The Laughing Goblin. In recent weeks the busy inn had become a home away from home. And far from home he was. Although he was far from his homeland this oasis in the busy port city of Phlan had brought him together with new friends, including the gruff but pleasant bar keeper, and part owner of the inn, Fat Mar.
He had also met several other new friends, adventurers like him. There was a halfling bard named Kithri, who played wonderous music. A larger than life human barbarian named Morg. A mischievous elven ranger, Rovidia, who shared his love of elven wine and taking souvenirs of their travels. Recently he had also fell in with a human warlock named Effrain who had a penchant for spirits in a flask and needing saving from his new best Tabaxi pal. From time to time he had also been joined by a fellow Tabaxi named Redtail, who was entirely way to serious but could all but past as his twin were it not for his red tipped tail.
He and his companions had just defeated a couple of pirates, on a ship. Cricket hated the water. But had gotten the courage to travel out to the ship to help his companions and unlike several of them, had avoided ending up in the bay that the ship had been moored at. He had almost been killed by his barbarian friend, Morg, who had been possessed by one of the pirates' spells. That had been an interesting experience…
"You were saying?" Mar interrupted his reminiscing.
"Oh, right. In exchange for that wonderful local folktale I was going to tell you a tale in return."
Cricket gave him a mischievous catlike grin. You see, Cricket was a Tabaxi. A catlike humanoid from a land far from the west, past the sea. His people were uncommon in Faerun. The fact that Redtail sat nearby did not escape him, though they were likely the only ones of their kind for a thousand leagues.
"I grew up in Maztica, a distant land west of your western most sea. My clan lived in an area called Flood-river, known for its heavy seasonal rains. I had a happy childhood, though my curiosity got me in much trouble as a child."
"Huh. I bet it did. You still act more like a kit than cat." chimed in Redtail.
Cricket ignored his dour companion.
"One spring, I was around 12 seasons I think, I wandered much farther than I ever had before. It was just after the rains and the river was wilder than it had been in many years. So like any adventurous child… I built a raft. Thinking myself an expert sailor I launched myself uncontrollably downriver. Unable to stop I ended up a hundred miles east, spilling out into the bay. Upon hitting the rough waters of the sea crashing inward toward land my fragile raft, already bashed by the Rapids of the engorged river, split apart. And my furry butt into the ocean. I washed ashore half drowned and fully soaked and cold. I've never liked the water since."
Cricket took a long drink from the glass of elven wine, happy of the unlimited refills just promised by Mar for all his recent deeds to help Phlan.
"Lucky for me a ship was moored nearby and the crew happy to help me. Unlucky for me they were slavers pulled into the cove for rest and resupplied. I found myself tossed into the hold with a couple other unfortunates. Humans, orks, all kinds. Even a couple thri-kreen and a bugbear."
He paused, feeling a pang of homesickness.
"Not much happened after that for a couple months. Easy waters made the trip to your Sea of Swords quick. And before I knew it I was being sold to a traveling show of exotic oddities just South of Neverwinter."
He emptied his glass once more, handing it to Mar. He waited a moment for a full glass before continuing his tale...