Lazaret:
Cats are afraid of water. I am a Tabaxi. I fear nothing.
Tovar and friends roar with approval and laughter at the tabaxi's witty reply. One bangs his mug repeatedly on the table while the other slaps Tovar on the back and shouts,
"Bring this fearless cat another ale!"
Meanwhile, on the other side of the tavern, a halfling has discreetly found his way to a quiet table. Like the tabaxi, he is new to Westbank, but his arrival is marked with significantly less fanfare, which is his preference.
Thorfire Shortankard:
While drinking his second ale, he thinks to himself..."What the #$%@ is with that Cat Dude?!?"
Thorfire has, in fact, met a tabaxi or two in his days in the south. Even so, the sight of a walking, talking cat is still strange to say the least. Stranger still is the way he seems to have captivated the table, undoubtedly with a mix of silver tongue and excessive alcohol. Thorfire concludes that luck is on his side today, for with such a spectacle across the tavern, it is unlikely that anyone will even notice him.
Finally, at yet another table in this ever-busier tavern, another outsider, this one an elf, takes notice of the tabaxi and his audience as they cheer another of his stories.
Celador Qiris:
Tell me, beautiful, what do you know about him
"Oh my," the bar maid blushes at Celador's compliment.
"I can't say that I know much. He arrived earlier today on the caravan from Wellwood. Some men in here earlier complained that he stowed away and should be held accountable for that." Her discussion is interrupted by another ovation from the noisy table.
"But it doesn't look like anyone's too upset about it anymore.