FIZZ

THE TIDAL TRICKSTER

In ages past, the oceans of Runeterra were home to civilizations far older than those

of the land. In the depths of what is now the Guardian’s Sea, a great city once stood—

it was here that the yordle Fizz made his home. He lived alongside the artisans and

warriors of that proud, noble race. Even though he was not one of them, they treated

him as an equal, and his playful nature and tall tales of adventures in the open sea

made him welcome at any gathering.

But the world was changing. The oceans were growing warmer, emboldening fierce

predators to rise up from the deepest trenches. Other settlements had fallen silent,

but the rulers of the great city could still not agree on how to deal with the threat.

Fizz pledged to roam the seas in search of survivors, or anyone who knew what had

happened.

Then, one dark day, the gigalodons came.

These huge dragon-sharks stunned their prey with fell shrieking, and the avenues of

the great city were soon clouded red. Thousands died in a matter of hours, the

immense bulk of their killers crushing towers and temples in a monstrous feeding

frenzy. Scenting blood in the water, Fizz raced back, determined to join the fight and

save the city.

He was too late. There was nothing left of the city to save. When the debris finally

settled, not a single living creature remained, nor any stone upon another, and the

ravenous shoal had moved on. Alone in the cold depths, Fizz sank into mournful
despair. As his yordle magic began to fade, he let himself be carried by the currents,

drifting in a catatonic torpor, dreaming away the millennia…

It was only chance that reawakened him. A handful of copper coins fell from above,

scattered to the seabed in the wake of a huge, wooden fish that swam upon the

surface. This was no gigalodon, but Fizz was alarmed nonetheless—he knew little of

the world overhead, but surely no fish could survive up there? He ventured up and

peered into the salty air for the first time.

There were people, people who lived outside of the water and sailed in wooden fish

of all sizes. Fizz found the thought both frightening and exciting, but the curious gifts

they cast into the water made it clear that they wanted to be his friends. In time,

following their movements to and fro across the oceans, he came to the port city of

Bilgewater.

To the inhabitants of that lawless place, this strange and slippery creature quickly

became something of a legend—the Tidal Trickster, a spirit of the ocean itself. It is

said that he can summon great beasts to do his bidding, hole a ship’s hull with his

stone trident, and breathe air or water as it suits him. Many a misbehaving child has

been warned on a moonless night: “Go quickly to sleep, or the Trickster will come and

feed you to the fishes…”

Fizz is good-natured, but mischievous even for a yordle, and delights in confounding

the people of Bilgewater. The most seasoned fishermen know, just as the ocean may

rise and fall, the Tidal Trickster is as likely to lead them into windless doldrums as to

an easy catch that would fill their nets. Even so, Fizz does not take kindly to the

greedy or selfish, and more than one haughty sea captain hoping to make a quick pile
of silver has found that her mysterious guide has led her crew not to safety, but to

shipwreck.