The Curse of Cal'Riel

The Summons

"Finally, you're awake!"

I heard Song's voice and sat up to find myself wrapped in ratty blankets. There was a cool breeze rushing through what I quickly realized was a belltower (because of the giant bell hanging above our heads). The surrounding scaffolding had undergone a tabaxi makeover. There were piles of old cushions, pots of wheatgrass, hanging links of sausage, and a few buckets of water. She'd obviously secured a temporary hideout. I saw my leathers (what was left of them!) hanging on a clothesline.

"The fuck happened to my gear?" I asked groggily.

Song sighed. "Hairballs. You don't remember any of it, do you?"

In my periphery, I could tell my hair had kinked up the way it does after drying out.

"How did I get wet?"

"You uh..." she began with a partial smile, "you jumped into the river."

I blinked. "Why would I do that?"

"Because your clothes were on fire," she stated.

I shut my eyes, trying to imagine the scenario. "Why were my clothes on fire, Song?"

"Because you blazed through the guild hall like a magma bear on uppers."

I needed to sit with that one for a moment. "Don't bullshit me."

"No bullshit, friend. I saw it with my own eyes. We all did, me and the other tabs."

There was a pattern here I was really starting to hate. Twice now, I've come to from a state of — I don't even know what — to find Song regaling me with a bunch of shit I didn't want to hear! My head got heavier by the moment.

"I know what you need," Song said with a pat to my head. "Although you'll have to heat it up. I don't have a way to do that here."

She was now talking from across the space. I barely heard her. I think she was asking about tea flavors.

Wrapping a blanket around me, I got up and started rifling through the pockets of my soggy gear, looking for answers. The garrote was still there. Vial of poison, check. Throwing stars, check. Daggers, all accounted for. Then I checked the drawstring bags and my pace quickened. Where there should be blinding power and ball bearings, there was instead loot! Extremely high ticket valuables. Like the ones kept in Rivon's office where he held our payouts. I had heard a payout could range in currency from Common coins to precious gems, and I was now holding a wicked assortment of them!

Song returned with a cup of tea, which she didn't hand to me once she saw what I was holding.

"Oh," she said. "That explains why you were in there so long. We all thought arson and mass murder were your crimes of the night. I didn't realize you'd tacked burglary on too."

Her words summoned a few fleeting memories and the treasure fell through my fingers, piece by piece, scattering on the floor.

"M-mass murder?" I grabbed her by the arms. The cold tea sloshed and splashed my legs. I barely felt it. "What did I do, Song!?"

She shrugged, like it was no big thing. The same shrug she gave whenever I asked if she needed to decompress after a hit. "What we all needed done but didn't have the balls to do. You took out the threat, Inigo. Set a righteous fire to their short-lived victory celebration you did!"

Releasing her, I stumbled back onto a stack of old cushions. "Fuck me!"

"What I'm curious about," she went on casually, setting my tea in front of me then collecting the spilled treasure off of the floor, "Did you rob the joint before or after you went full volcano on it? I mean, someone not of your element would clearly do the burglary first, so as not to murder themself too. But I have a feeling, considering the state of your armor, and your natural resistance — which probably makes you pretty cocky in places like burning buildings, smoldering calderas, and flaming afterlives — you pillaged Rivon's office while the mutinous mutts were screaming in seared agony."