The Curse of Cal'Riel

Don't Bite The Hand

Gale tried to make us feel at home in the Lucky Clam. Each of us had our own bedroom with a magical makeover meant to recall comforts from our past, settings we could recognize as home. I requested tapestries pinned to the ceiling, and oak flooring. I told him I'd like a bookshelf stocked with classic folklore. I omitted mentioning the bodice rippers I kept back home that wore the sleeves of famous plays, not because I was ashamed. I'm just picky about my smut. I said I liked posters of the best traveling troupes. I didn't specify which ones but he provided the ones with the most fame and least clothing.

Am I that obvious? I should be more stealthy when scoping out his hot patrons.

I asked for a quill with a full inkpot, set on the nightstand because I don't need a desk. What he also didn't need to supply was the journal. That was the one valuable taken from my room at the start of this journey.

All that to say, none of Gale's hospitality made up for his creepiness. The warlock, the ranger and I were up bright and early to interrogate him about that. We knew we would only have a small window of time before the monk and druid would get up and get his back.

"It's not fair that you know so much about us and we know dick about you," I said.

"What would you like to know?" Gale served my tea and the sludge Astra drank.

"I wanna know," Astra began, "howdja know how I take my coffee."

"The quality of your street pies tipped me off."

"See, I don't believe that," Astra argued. "I drink whatever grounds I can get my hands on. It's a blend of second-hand rich stuff. Which is exactly what this is. How couldja know that?"

Gale smiled. "Well, I know you."

"You don't know me, you only know how to spy on me," Astra said. "If you really did know me, you wouldn't have given me a plush bedroom."

That was a really strange thing to say. I had to wonder why a street urchin wouldn't request a plush bedroom if given the option. Had she never known the comforts of one?

"That's really weird that you've spied on us," Eiris added. "I get that you'd figure out to make my bedroom look like a big nest, but like, how did you know what kind of grasses and twigs I liked?"

"I know where you grew up," Gale said, serving tea to the aarakocra. "I know the flora native to that region."

Astra turned to me. "What'd he put in your bedroom?"

"Exactly what I asked for," I said.

"Nothing creepy?" asked Eiris.

"Oh it's creepy," I said. "I just told him tapestries. I didn't say what colors, yet he nailed the blues and purples I got in my room back home." I turned to him. "What the fuck, man?"

Gale didn't respond. He turned his attention to Charcyrl and Tempist who were descending the stairs.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted warmly. "The usuals?"

"Yes please!" Tempist said unfazed.

"Um, sure?" said Charcyrl, intrigued but not suspicious.

I didn't understand how they could be so passive about Gale's behavior. He totally must've had them under a charm spell, which meant we needed to get answers from him before his groupies defended him.

"It's your turn to pony up some info," I said with a poke to his chest. "Spill it, Clamkeeper."

"Again," Gale said politely. "What would you like to know?"

"When and where were you born?" Eiris said.

He answered as quickly as she asked. "I don't remember."

"Is it that 'cha don't remember?" Astra said, "or maybe you was never born."