Fleeting Look

Fleeting Look

Fleeting's story begins where many others have hopefully never even entertained the notion of venturing near. As he awoke to a faint scratching sound by his left, and favourite, ear, Fleeting felt a sense of unease. He delicately opened one tentative eye to survey his environment, and gust of wind rudely blew a cloud of sand into his face. He surmised that, as rogue clouds of sand rarely ventured out alone in search of ruining people’s days, he must be somewhere in the desert nation of Isk.
Now Fleeting knew two things for certain about Isk: 1. It was not a place in which he was inclined to spend a great deal more time, and, 2. It had been named creatively by the sound made by a certain type of snake when it sneezes.
What he did not know, was how he ended up there. In fact, he could not remember anything before his abrupt awakening, apart from his name and his evident dislike of grainy substances. Fleeting decided to spend, at minimum, the next few paragraphs trying to answer the question; Who am I?
Fleeting ventured south because it was the direction that looked slightly less sandy, where he eventually ended up in the mysterious region of Kothar. There he was taken in by a friendly but wary dwarf couple, who had been shunned from their original home because of their interest in forbidden studies and for always trying to recruit dwarves and humans into inter-species three legged races. He lived in their small, octagonal house for three years, and took the time there to study and learn from their teachings. Fleeting became fascinated with unspoken theories surrounding the creation of their world, which many believed had been created by The Great Eight; all powerful Gods. His two dwarf friends, Sweltelfarhl the Heavy and her husband, Jim, helped him understand that the creation of everything that could be seen in the world was instead the work of an unfortunate accident involving substances and forces that could not be comprehended by mere mortals. Fleeting now truly believed that the Gods were nothing more than made up stories used to bring fear and order across the Manylands, and to use as an excuse by believers in times of great anguish, such as misplacing their favourite hat.
He wanted to spread this revelation to others, and left his dwarven friends alone to their life of solitude and beard grooming. Fleeting set out west in the direction of the Kerym Mountain range, as he thought it a good place to survey his next destination. Unfortunately, as Fleeting quickly remembered after 17 days of walking towards them, objects have a tendency to change in size dependant on things such as distance and perception. Reaching the base of the first and smallest mountain, Fleeting, having only previously walked up one rather modest incline, decided to go around.
Fortuitously, he came across the Star Sea, so named by the infamous elven explorer Sfetim Quickly, who enjoyed both alliteration and squinting at the sun. There he boarded small merchant vessel, bound for the Burakrin Republic, in search of adventure and possibly cheese. The voyage went mostly without mishap, except for one minor hijacking where all the crew were brutally slain, aside from Fleeting. The vessel was boarded by the infamous pirate ship, Night’s Teacher, who had realised after years of futile attempts that it was super difficult to do any form of learning after the sun went down. The captain of the Teacher had seen Fleeting as something of a curiosity. With his strange turquoise skin and slight nervous tick every time someone looked at him for less than half a second, Fleeting was not the usual seafaring merchant that was their usual prey. This gave Fleeting an edge as what he lacked in memory and luck, he more than made up for in poor decision making. He singled out the meanest, toughest looking of the crew, a terrifying brigand who the others referred to as ‘Seph,’ and challenged him to a fight to the death. Fortunately for Fleeting, Seph had two fatal flaws. Firstly, he could never turn down a fight. Seph had made a living from killing and he was good at it. Secondly, at the beginning of EVERY battle, Seph let out a mighty battle cry. This cry, which was very similar to the sound made by the female manatee during mating season, could be heard for miles around, and went on for a full 30 seconds. As Seph bent his head back and let loose his high pitched squeal, Fleeting deftly leapt overboard and swam for the nearest island. He hid from the pirates for a full week, surviving only on moss and the occasional manatee, beached after hearing the sound of Seph’s mighty roar.
He then managed to craft a small but trusty raft, which carried him safely to the capital city of Runedar. While navigating the tight and crowded streets, he accidentally found himself inside the holy temple of The Great Eight, mistaking it for a dwarven bar due to all the vertically challenged occupants, most of whom turned out just to be kneeling. Thinking that there must be either projectiles or small feathered waterfowl swarming overhead, Fleeting quickly dropped to his knees too. There he caught the attention of a hooded figure, seated quietly in the corner of the circular chamber. The figure approached and knelt down beside him. He turned his grizzled face towards Fleeting, and whispered in a horse and aged voice, “Are you a believer?” Fleeting, taken aback, took a few moments to consider his response. After much thought, he decided he would like more information before deciding on his answer. Fleeting liked to take a careful, measured approach to his conversations, in order to avoid confusion and misunderstandings. After weighing up all the possible sensible responses in his head, he decided on one he liked and confirmed it to himself with a confident “Yes.” Unfortunately for Fleeting, he accidentally said this confirmation out loud. The stranger led him by the arm to a winding staircase leading to a subterranean area below the holy temple. There he was met with several other hooded figures, who formed an imposing circle around him. Their leader, a slender old human with sun-beaten skin, asked Fleeting for his full name. He gave it, and each of the figures in turn quickly glanced at him before nodding their approval. What passed then is a bit of a haze for Fleeting. There was much chanting, and talk in a language unfamiliar to him. His dwarven friends had taught him how to deal with these situation, so he stayed calm and nodded in response to every phrase.
After 15 or so minutes, a great ethereal figure rose from the front of the room. The entire chamber started to shake, and the hooded figures held their hands up in reverence. The ethereal figure spoke, yet his lips did not move. Fleeting felt the voice, inside him, as if projected across the room. “I am Ominack, of the Great Eight, and I appear to you in my true form,” the figure boomed. “I am Fleeting,” he replied, “and I appear to have wet myself.” Fleeting quickly remember all he had learned since he awoke in the desert of the hayfever serpent. There were no Gods and this could all be explained through reason. He decided to go along with whatever this figure requested, as to his knowledge nothing bad had ever happened to people who did the will of imaginary beings. Fleeting swore a non-holy oath, which sounded awfully holy, to uphold the values of the Great Eight and become a champion for good and righteousness. He promised to smite any non-believers and punish those who are most deserving. Fortunately for Fleeting, who fell into both of these categories, he lacked the ability to smite people, and figured that his two indiscretions probably cancelled each other out anyway.
He spent the next 5 years learning the way of the secretive order that he had accidentally joined, but never thought to enquire as to their name. Laden with a mighty, holy power that he attributed to his healthy diet and positive attitude, instead of the near unlimited energy channelled into him by an actual God, Fleeting became a proficient swordsman and gave excellent hugs. He ventured out on his own after this, spreading the word of a God that he didn’t believe in and trying to explore the ideas presented by different cultures. He ventured north to a small, enclosed region cut off from the rest of the world, where he found a humble nomadic band of pygmy Goliaths. These friendly folk, who due to their breeding were now just about the size of your average human, enjoyed Fleeting’s company and made him one of their tribe. He gained all the tribal benefits including his pick of the best rocks to throw aimlessly at chickens, and a new name: Grognog Ognog the third. Unfortunately this caused some confusion, as this tribe was unable to pronounce any consonants when saying names. Oooo, as he affectionately became known, left the tribe after 6months, after a disagreement with one of the elders, Angramad Atlan. The final argument, which in true tribal form took the form of both screaming each other’s names at one another, was the breaking point in the relationship, and signified that it might be time for Fleeting to leave.
Awaking from what seemed the longest sleep of his life – most certainly longer than the usual three hours – with an upturned vial containing the remnants of a bright pink liquid. The pygmy Goliaths were nowhere to be seen, not even a trace. But Ominack was back, apparently sitting on a rock, although Fleeting knew he couldn’t be, because he doesn’t exist. Ominack seemed to know nothing of the pygmy Goliaths, thereby disproving Ominack’s powers – pah! God of Truth indeed – but instead warned Fleeting about some troublesome Dwarves worshipping the so-called Dwarven God of Creation, Faerfan. Ominack claimed that Faerfan was no God at all – it seemed strange that one God would try to undermine the existence of another, but perhaps Fleeting could kill two chickens with one rock – or is that Gods. No matter, Fleeting was now ready to set out in search of the truth about his past, and see what adventure awaited him. He just needed to wait around the Halflight Forest for a sign. Should be easy enough…

Physical Description

Apparel & Accessories

A brown hooded cloak is usually worn over his armour

Personality Characteristics

Motivation

Anyone's guess

Personality Quirks

Sleeps inverted, keeps a pet in his pocket which he frequently feeds lettuce or cabbage to

Social

Contacts & Relations

Sweltelfarhl the Heavy, and her husband Jim - dwarven couple in Kothar

Religious Views

Ominack - God of Truth

Alignment

Chaotic Neutral

Species

Tiefling

Honorary & Occupational Titles

Lance - The Order of the Broken Fang

Birthplace

Kothar

Eyes

Grey, pupil-less

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

turquoise

Height

5'10''

Quotes & Catchphrases

"Do you know what the collective noun is for...?"

Aligned Organization

The Order of the Broken Fang

Known Languages

Common, Draconic, Infernal