Stretching your legs

Strange things live in Dejune. There are fire crabs, a humanoid slug, and Kruin, and that's just the beginning. Sitting outside the Fallen Sword is a rather rotund man, gently rolling his feet through the grass.
His bulbous eyes sit above his smooth green-grey skin, and apart from his webbed toes and damp skin, he might be a giant, fat, earless goblin. He gazes up at the sky, occasionally reaching into a leather bag by his side, fishing out a cicada and noisily crunching it.
It's been two weeks since he escape the Myrrn (via a short layover in Pharasma's line) and he's looking much better. His skin has gone from a dark green to a blotchy green-grey, which he assures you is healthy. His first order of business was to travel north (aided by a friendly wind walk spell) to see his old village. On arrival however his hopes were dashed - the place was in ruins, stones and the sign of old fires. 
A few quiet questions made in exchange for a few small bags of silver reveal that his village had fallen under the influence of the cult of the Frog God, and had been razed only a matter of months ago as the cultists fled the region and sought to cover their tracks. A trader helpfully recalled that one Tsarthar had lived there until the end, although sadly the poor creature had gone mad, and had both lit and perished in the flames. With any link to his past severed (and putting on a bold face), he returned to Dejune to begin again.
Agamemnon sought to name him Dragonfoil for his bravery, but he politely declined. He found the word "Foil" fun to say, and took that for a name instead. He explained that his actions were born of frustration rather than valor, coupled with a desire "to die with my chin up and my spear raised". That said, someone had slipped him a chipped dragon scale (not from the dragon he'd fought, of course) and he'd made it into a charm, wearing it around his neck on a silk string. He had kept the masterwork spear and leather armor he'd found in the Myrrn, and could be seen down by the river most days with a net, catching himself his meals.
He had no idea what he was to do with his day (or indeed his life, as Tsarthars do not age), which was why he was sitting outside the church munching his way through his recent catch. As he enjoyed the early afternoon sun, he was approached by a woman in her forties, wearing a suit of magical but thoroughly-battered platemail. She greeted him warmly, slightly over-exaggerating her expression, as people tend to do when in conversation with monstrous humanoids
"You must be Foil. I'm Kingsman Sharn. May I join you?"
"Good day Kingsman. Please take a seat, I welcome the company. You're welcome to an auchenorrhyncha. They are very crunchy, although probably not to your taste"
"Thank you, but I'll pass. I have a pigeon pie, which you are welcome to try"
"Thank you, but I don't eat pigeon. Actually, I've never eaten pigeon, I just assume I wont like it. Hah! You know what, since you're offering, I will try a small bit. Thank you"
Foil chewed the morsel carefully, nodding politely while gently fishing in his bag for a cidada and a waterskin to get rid of the taste. "What brings you to the company of this old frog?"
"I was rather hoping to ask a favor. Kingsman isn't my name, it's a title. I'm the head of the Dejune Adventurer's Guild. We're always looking for more courageous folks to join our rank."
Foil chuckled good-naturedly. "I think you have the wrong man. I have only been in one fight I remember, and that ended with me doing my best jam impression".
As Foil crunched and chomped his way through his bugs, Sharn made a mess of her pie, getting pigeon-gravy everywhere, before wiping her hands on the grass.
"See the thing is Foil, we found a map to a sunken treasure off the coast. I was hoping to ask your help, seeing as you're a natural swimmer, and you look strong enough to help us if we encounter a strong current or something of the sort while we're diving."
"Nice of you to say Sharn, darned nice, but...hmmm. Actually, if you can't find another strong swimmer before you leave, I'll help you. Honestly, I'd prefer to keep my toes out of any adventures for the time being, but I also don't feel right just sitting here while others are off risking their lives for...say, what are you risking your life for?"
"The treasure was said to hold the Secret of Saint Daniella"
"Who was she?"
"Dunno. That's the secret, I guess"
"Well alright Sharn. If you don't find anyone more suited, I'm staying in town, in the refugee barracks"
"Really? I don't mean to be rude, but I thought you'd be staying down by the river with the Burned Eel"
"The what?"
"Haven't you been to the docks yet? Follow the road north of town, and when you'd normally keep on north to the river, take the path East. It hits the river a little upstream"
"I will go and have a look. Thank you kindly, Sharn. Thank you for the pie, also"
"Don't mention it"
With nothing else to do with his afternoon, Foil took Sharn's directions to the docks. He'd ignored the area previously as he'd (correctly) guessed there was better bug-catching to be found further upstream. The Burned Eel was an odd vessel, and Foil was initially hesitant to approach it, as he'd had his fill of boats for one lifetime. Still, the boat had a large net, and he couldn't say no to nets. He swam over and pulled himself on board, ignoring the people milling about. The net was solid, made of thick rope that wouldn't rot or snap under constant use. He closed his eyes, and for a moment imagined that the net was light as a feather, floating through the sky to catch swarms of bugs high above. When he opened his eyes, a young man in furs carrying an odd copper-iron-and-wooden staff was watching him. His skin was dark, and the furs lent him a rugged air, as of someone who never willingly steps foot indoors.
"What were you thinking about?" asked the man in a friendly tone.
"I was wondering if you could run a net through the sky and catch bugs. But I guess the holes would need to be smaller. Also you might catch birds. But I suppose they could be made into pies, if one was of a mind to do so"
The man nodded, and looked at the sky, perhaps scanning it for floating nets, or possibly pigeons.
"You must be Foil. I'm Mishka. Over there is my brother Pangu. We're fishermen, and this is the Eel, our boat."
"Nice to meet you. I'm...a net-fancier, I guess."
"You're a Tsarthar, aren't you? I'm a druid of the wilds. Stories say your people are often powerful druids of the water and the caves. If you have anything to teach, I'd gladly learn"
"Sadly I cannot help you. I'm no druid, just a bug catcher and a small time net-aficionado."
Far from looking disappointed, Mishka's face brightened "Perhaps then I could teach you. I'm already training two other druids, a small Tengu boy who takes care of the fire crabs, and another Tengu refugee who has an affinity for the animals of the forest. One more would make a nice little gathering"
Foil laughed at the image his mind conjured up "I'm flattered, but I'm sorry to say all I'm good for is weaving and entertaining a fondness for nets."
Mishka cocked his head slightly to the side "Why? Surely there are other things you'd like to do, other things you're good at"
Foil smiled sadly "All I've been doing for decades is farming and catching bugs. I fear it's my lot in life."
"Why? You do it because you've done it, and you will continue to do it because it's all you've ever done?"
Foil paused a few long seconds, thinking it over. "I did fight a dragon once."
Mishka tapped him on the shoulder playfully "There you are then. If you're only go to do things you've already done, grab that spear and go find a wyrm. Maybe try throwing a net on it, before it flies away"
Foil laughed and laughed, and eventually had to sit down on the deck, gasping for breath. "Fight a dragon indeed! What use is escaping from that cave if all I do is try and find myself another cave! Haha, the foolishness of it. Forgive an old frog. I don't think I'll go fight dragons, but I will join your little circle. Time to experience something new"
Mishka brightened "That's the spirit. Do you want to come out for the evening catch?"
Still laughing, Foil shook his head "Good gods no. No more boats for me. I think I'll go back to town, I've got someone I want to speak to. Do you know where the Dejune Adventurer's Guild meets?"