Eh! Well, ‘allo there, young ‘uns. Shouldn’t you cheeky little sprats already be a-bed? What’s that? You want a suppertime story from old One-Legged Lars, eh?

Alright, alright, just one ‘afore bed. Gather round. But I don’t wanna hear no cryin’ or whimperin’ this time. This is Bilgewater, after all, and even our bedtime tales have more’n a little darkness in ‘em.

Right. Now, you’ve heard of the Tidal Trickster, the little ocean sprite they call Fizz, ain’t ya? Ye have? Good, good. Well, this is a story about the time old Lars met him. What’s that? Must have been fun? Well, what sort o’ stories you been told? No it weren’t fun, thank you very much! He’s a malign little terror, that one, and you’ll be lucky if you never cross paths with ‘im in all your lives. But I’m gettin’ ahead of me self. Ahem.

Right, so there I was, clingin’ to a rock out in the Jagged Straits. Me ship was sunk don’t matter how it happened, there’s a tale for another night, maybe but that’s as it was. I clung to that rock for three days and nights, with fins a-circlin’.

And just when I was startin’ to give up all hope... he appeared.

All I seen at first were those two big, round eyes, pale as death, as he swam towards me. Them circling sharks took off right away, and no mistake they was a-feared of him, see, just as you all should be. Closer, and closer, and closer ‘e came. I don’t mind admittin’ I were scared, but he’d shooed off them hungry fishes, so I dove into the sea, and started swimmin’ for Bilgewater, as quick as ye like!

But every time I looks back, ‘e was there, with those big eyes peerin’ at me! I finally get to shore, and thought I’d lost ‘im... But how wrong old Lars was!

I got a room in a flea-ridden flophouse down Rat Town way, but it didn’t take long for me to realize... I weren’t alone. What first clued me was the creepin’ stink o’ seaweed and fish in me room. Oh, pooh! That and the little wet footprints on the stair when I awoke in the mornin’...

They call ‘im the Trickster, and he certainly lived up to the name. Put seawater in me porridge when I weren’t lookin’! Tied me bootlaces together, so I fell as soon as took a step! And slipped eels under me blankets! Give me a right proper scare when they started wrigglin’, I’ll tell ye!

And all the time, I hears ‘im laughing. Still makes me skin crawl, just to think of it. For a whole week Fizz haunted me. Drove me fairly to the brink o’ madness! “What do ye want, you little monster?” I screams!

But on the final night, I woke. I heared his webbed feet, flappin’ on the floor. Slap. Slap. Slap.

Closer, ‘e came, and closer. “This is it!” I thought. “He’s come to end me, once and for all,” and I hid me self under the covers.

Slap. Slap. Slap, went his cold, wet feet! And then... silence. I lay there, cowering, for what must’ve been an hour, ‘afore I dared a peek. Slowly, I reaches out, lights the lamp, and do you know what happened next?

Nothin’.

Aye, Fizz were gone, at long last. But he left something for me, on the wooden box ‘aside me bed. A coin, a gold Kraken, no less. This coin here, in fact! Eh, eh, look wi’ your eyes, not your ‘ands! That’s my lucky Kraken, ye know.

But I tell you, rather than make me happy for I hadn’t a penny to me name back then the sight of that coin filled me with dread. ‘Cos this were the very coin that our captain swore he tossed into the ocean, on our way out o’ port. That was his offering to the Bearded Lady for safe passage, but the Tidal Trickster had took it! That was the reason our ship’d sunk! That playful, hateful little imp, he’d doomed the whole crew, and done it with a wicked, fishy grin on his face.

So, I tell you little sprats now, pray you never encounter ‘im, ‘cos while ‘e might seem all fun and games, let me tell you now – he ain’t.

Now, off to bed with ye! And pray you don’t see no little wet footprints on the floorboards when you wake! Hah!