<strong>@ Oral addiction</strong><br/>The waitress nodded politely as your final order was supplied, her form hurrying away towards the kitchen to deliver your order. A shrill  squeal from the kitchen attracts the attention of several customers, before the craning necks turn their attention back towards the most important meal of the day.<br/><br/>Several minutes later, a blushing serving girl brings back your order, warmed bread, one slice pre-cut with honey spread in the shape of a heart, a selection of cheeses and three well-cooked red sausages, each with lip prints at the tip as though they'd each been kissed. It seemed... rather nice compared to those around you, as you can plainly see others have had their meats charred and unrecognisable, the occasional patron in the quickly filling dining hall tapping their plates with hardened bread or grumbling about cold eggs and beans.<br/><br/>The blushing waitress points her thumb towards the kitchen and heads towards the entrance to the room to serve her next customer, only to be quickly waylaid by a trio of drably dressed figures in well-polished boots.<br/><br/>Standing by the kitchen entrance is the flaxen-haired, shapely beauty Vatra had shared his bed with the previous night, only to find her missing this morning, the reason now seemed to be that she was preparing breakfast, meaning she likely only had a few hours of sleep the previous night, if that. The woman blows a kiss in the direction of your tattooed form, only to rush back to her work as something seems to have gone on fire, judging by the amount of smoke pouring from the kitchen door as she opens it. None of the staff or regulars look very put off by this, as though the odd plume of smoke was a regular occurance.<br/><br/><hr/><strong>@ Ixy</strong>(and maybe Katina?)<br/><strong>"As you wish, but... would your friend like anything, miss?"</strong>the servant asked, turning his gaze towards your masked and veiled associate. However, once Ithi'ka utters the phrase "that is all for us", he lowers his head in a slight bow and heads towards the kitchen with your... slightly abstract order.<br/>You are eventually treated to a sight of... well, admittedly poorly cut and presented food, much like the others you pointed at received. It seems to be a breakfast dish popular in Lower Farron, or at least an attempt at copying it without knowing exactly what was supposed to go into it, while the original recipe called for the eggs of a subterranean beast and luminous mushrooms to be used, the omelette before you is much more vibrant and yellow, with seasonal above-ground mushrooms and potatoes cooked into it. A small side-bowl contains diced bacon drizzled in a strong-smelling liquid, possibly whiskey.<br/><br/>It's not long before a group you can probably identify from your time in the city as being from the "Midnight Steel" military corporation being ushered to a table, a card with the group's symbol of a sword atop a crescent moon placed upon it showing it as having been reserved from them. The group is, after all, very partial to order and predetermined action above all else, a mirror image of the madmen let loose to entertain the upcoming festival.<br/><br/><hr/><strong>@ Changingsaint</strong><br/>As the attendant was about to usher Gale to a free seat, a group of three men dressed in dark grey, neatly pressed, silver-buttoned uniforms with dark, knee-high and steel toed boots, each wearing cloaks black as pitch fastened around their necks with steel pins depicting a double-edged sword atop a crescent moon shove past you, their apparent leader grumbling<strong>"The usual"</strong>to the serving girl, forcing her attention from you as he unceremoniously grabs her arm, moving towards a pre-planned destination in the room.<br/>The girl mouths "sorry" to you, as she attempts to flag another servant on the way past to show you to a seat.<br/><strong>"Tch. Every morning, same thing. Day in, day out, same seat, same meal,"</strong>the new face framed with auburn hair says to Gale,<strong>"Sorry about that, the Steel boys always have to have their own way, and it's either them or the clowns... I'll see if I can get you a discount for your trouble, sir. I think I heard you say... tea with your meal, right? I'll see what chef can cook up for you."</strong><br/><br/>She leaves you for the time being, stopping with a bear-like man who the casual observer might observe to be the manager, currently busy telling tall tales and laughing raucously with a group of older gentlemen.<br/><br/>Minutes pass, and a selection of hot and cold meats eventually lands on your table, mostly pork products of one type or another (though you think you might be able to spot some mutton) and those that have been cooked looks slightly ill-treated, with a small side of ever-so soggy vegetables and a hot, steaming cup of tea.<br/><strong>"On the house, the boss heard your story and agreed on a discount. Once again, sorry for they way you were treated, sir."</strong>