(no subject)
Halloween seems to be over. Thank the Light.
Lan checks the front door, first, as he does at some point every day. It's still locked.
Then to the bar, for dinner. He's not used to this much choice, though he's been assured that the Bar can produce just about anything. Food is, for him, primarily fuel, with good taste as a nice bonus. On the trail, you eat what you carry or forage; in an inn, you eat what the cook's made, with perhaps a handful of choices; in a noble house, you eat what's served, or pick from what the kitchen's likely to have.
"Dinner," he requests, as he has before. This time what the bar produces is a sort of sliced flatbread with cheese and meat and a red sauce: Pizza, says the little card that appears with it.
All right then.
The plate and the accompanying mug of tea get carried to a corner table. One of the ones with a good view of the room, because Lan, like many of the bar's patrons, considers surveillance an important thing in daily life.
Lan checks the front door, first, as he does at some point every day. It's still locked.
Then to the bar, for dinner. He's not used to this much choice, though he's been assured that the Bar can produce just about anything. Food is, for him, primarily fuel, with good taste as a nice bonus. On the trail, you eat what you carry or forage; in an inn, you eat what the cook's made, with perhaps a handful of choices; in a noble house, you eat what's served, or pick from what the kitchen's likely to have.
"Dinner," he requests, as he has before. This time what the bar produces is a sort of sliced flatbread with cheese and meat and a red sauce: Pizza, says the little card that appears with it.
All right then.
The plate and the accompanying mug of tea get carried to a corner table. One of the ones with a good view of the room, because Lan, like many of the bar's patrons, considers surveillance an important thing in daily life.