Ants in a hive(4)

Torghan's room was as spectacular as all the things that he had seen. The walls were smooth stone, painted in deep red, and the ceiling arched above him with intricate carvings that he could not begin to decipher. A large brazier in the corner cast a warm glow across the chamber, its flames dancing behind an ornate metal grate.

Of course, he had been given the finest accommodations—he was the one they had to impress, after all. The others had been given their own rooms, but none as grand as this.

The bed alone was a marvel. It was not a simple pile of furs as he was accustomed to, nor the hard wooden slabs travelers sometimes used. No, this was a great, cushioned thing, covered in thick blankets embroidered with swirling patterns in gold and silver thread. The mattress, impossibly soft, swallowed him whole when he lay upon it, a cloud beneath his weary body.