Living in the broom closet masquerading as a room above the bar was never a long term solution, just somewhere to stay dry ’til finding my feet. Adam loved the arrangement, some poor sod always around to ward off ne’er-do-wells not to mention kicking out the regulars once they’d reached the bottom of their wallets.
There was always going to be a sign to move on. I thought it would be subtle, clearly the universe had other ideas. The bar was covered in blue-green flames. Slumped over the cash drawer melted in place, Adam left the mortal plane how he lived, coveting his meagre wealth. He wasn’t going to need it where he’d gone. Reaching through the dancing flames, I grasped the bills from the til.
I knew faerie fire only effects the intended target but was a little fuzzy on how it interacted with their stuff so really I was salvaging. In short order the register was clear, plus some of the nicer bottles clinked in my pack as I whistled to my next adventure.