Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24510587-20180511212005/@comment-25828117-20180520000837

Graicus had hung his tunic over the foot end of his bed. To allow the cool summer night's breeze to flow over him as he lay there with his arms behind his head, looking out into the dark.

Both of them extended out from the sides like beefy wings on the already rather small single person bed.

He could see the flickering of the oil lamps and in the tavern crawl from under the door accompanied by the mumbling noises of calm conversation by those who had elected to not go to bed yet and he wondered if this was still worth it. He didn't know these people. Why was he still with them? Or so he asked himself.

He readjusted himself in his feathery bed. It was just too soft for him. Years of miserable experience of sleeping on the ground with nary a rock for a pillow had the effect of making everything else feel like it were so soft he'd sink through as if it were an unstrung hammock. It might've also been his massive weight that caused this sensation. Either way it made the man very restless, especially combined with the summer heat South Western Cyrodiil was known for.

The man's gaze ran towards the open window which allowed a perfectly clear star-lit night through. If he perked himself up somewhat he could hear Colovian Harriet Crickets chirping in the lavender fields to the north.

He smirked, considering that to be a pleasant sound to fall asleep to.

(was basically meaningless, but just so we don't lose the flow)