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Moon opened his eyes and stretched out on the soft bed. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly.
The bed was a thing of marvel. Large and sturdy, it was made from a dark wood with a wondrously soft feather-filled mattress. He had never slept on a bed before, his usual fare back home had been a fur-covered hard wooden pallet, and making do with the hard ground under the stars during his long journey from the Northir Mountains.
He had wondered at the presence of a bed large and sturdy enough to bear his size and weight. Casca explained the room was frequently used by an enormous merchant named Kaliph. A generous man who always left large tips, the serving maids affectionately called him Four bellies
Swinging his feet onto the floor, Moon winced and held his throbbing head between his hands as a headache flared. Hoping to alleviate the pain, he kneaded his temples with his thumbs. Then he reached for his roll lying on the floor next to the bed and unwrapped the swathe of rags protecting his jar of brainwort. He muttered an obscenity for there was only a sprinkling of dust left.
He dipped a small tin cup into the bowl of water on the table next to his bed and tipped the dust into it. Stirring the mixture with a finger, he drank it, then lay down again, hoping the pain would abate.