Chapter 18
To the south of Coldport, the wide road wound away for only a few hundred feet before disappearing over the sloping edge of the bluff. For three hundred feet, the road overlapped itself in a series of switchbacks known colloquially as The Pillows, both for the strange, wrinkled nature the road took on when viewed from afar, and the stacks of the white stone the bluff was made of taking an almost soft texture from miles away. The dozens of inns erected to overlook the stretch of road helped solidify the name as well. Those inns were all full that night.
Not many paying customers lounged in the rooms that overlooked the sheer cliff drops to a rocky splash below, though the rooms were all full of the rowdiest type of men, men who would avail themselves of the food, wine, and wome
