Well, don't you hate it when a story seems to be going somewhere, and then it just suddenly ends? That's what happened with the bard. Perhaps he had a stronger drink than they were serving me. I head back across the street, and inquire as to the location of my room. Unsurprisingly, the proprietor calls out Lilanca to escort me to my room. I thank her and close the door, wondering just what the odd confused look on her face meant as I did so. Funny lowlanders.
I turn about, glad to have some privacy again, and find that the room is surprisingly well furnished. There's even a basin, pitcher, and more of the fragrance set out. Not that I'm tempted. Flowery smelling goliaths, ha ha. I set my pack down on the chair (padded!) and pull out my stasis rod. this should make for a good security device, I suppose. I turn around and place the top of the ball-end against the center of the door and press the button. Letting go, it seems to do it's job and just hang their in the air. Good thing the door opens into the room, I think to myself.
Turning to the window next, I pull my dagger from it's sheath prepared to use it to wedge the window shut, but find myself returning it to it's place; the window doesn't open. How do they keep it cool in here, I wonder. Because it is a nice, comfortable temperature, unlike the steamy roast I'd endured on my way into town. That would be a nice trick to take with me, ha.
Finally, feeling a little more secure, with my recently developed paranoia appeased, I strip down and prepare to go to bed, rather glad for the laundry service having cleaned and dried my clothes while I bathed earlier. I flop down on the bed and nearly fall off the other side as I fell like I'm being sucked into, and then bounced across, the mattress. I flail about as I scramble free of the bed and back to my feet, on alert, panting. Then I laugh at myself. Way too paranoid. Or am I? What was the deal with Lilanca and whatever it was that spoke through her? That was not normal.
I calm myself back down and attempt to sit on the bed, quite a bit more carefully this time. And, once again, I sink deep into the bed. You'd think at prices like this, they would have sturdier beds! I scooch along the bed and try to lay down. Carefully. And find that my head is against the ornate headboard, while my feet and half my calves hang off the end of the bed. Sigh. Of course. Not made for a Goliath. Next town I visit, I'm going to need to ask where they have accommodations suitable for me. Oh well, at least the room is fairly large. I drag the mattress off the bed and onto the floor, along with all the many, many linens (Who needs this many layers? And why would I need six pillows? Madness!), onto the floor, hoping that things will be a little firmer and support me better. And, as it turns out, those extra pillows made for a half-way decent extension to the bedding for my feet. I do have to admit that these blankets feel awfully nice and soft, though, I think to myself.
As I prepare to fall asleep, I remind myself of the pre-dawn appointment, setting a mental alarm, so to speak, to wake up in time to see what this odd omen is all about. Thank goodness I've always been able to wake up whenever I plan to. I'll go and see, but I'll be watching from a side-street, on my guard. Until then, it's time for a well earned rest...
