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Sep. 5th, 2015 09:29 am{From here}
Sinric leads Hannibal out through a door and out into the garden. He picks a path through the trees to what looks from the outside like small and simple marquee.
But inside it is something very different. Large as any room inside the bar, the floor is covered with richly patterned carpets, as soft underfoot as grass. The walls are draped with the finest silks. Silver lanterns hung from the roof cast geometric patterns from their cut work sides, coloured rainbow hues by glass inserts.
A table is set lavishly to one side with all the finest foods and drinks of Sinric's time.
But at the room's centre is a raised dais spread with silks and furs, cushions and bolsters; a bed worth of a king. Or an emperor.
Sinric leads Hannibal out through a door and out into the garden. He picks a path through the trees to what looks from the outside like small and simple marquee.
But inside it is something very different. Large as any room inside the bar, the floor is covered with richly patterned carpets, as soft underfoot as grass. The walls are draped with the finest silks. Silver lanterns hung from the roof cast geometric patterns from their cut work sides, coloured rainbow hues by glass inserts.
A table is set lavishly to one side with all the finest foods and drinks of Sinric's time.
But at the room's centre is a raised dais spread with silks and furs, cushions and bolsters; a bed worth of a king. Or an emperor.
