Dinner At the Embassy - (YOUR Participation Requested!)

Anyone who would dine at or be invited to dine at the Embassy for any reason is more than welcome to this dinner 'tonight'-- 'tonight' in quotes because it's a time warped affair so other threads can still run concurrent to this one. This would be, timeline wise, before game launch events.

I OOCly encourage everyone (that means YOU!) to drop by and make this as entertaining an evening as you can- be it misjudging the strength of the Elonian ale and launching into tales of heroics, asserting how this or that dish is 'just how mother used to make it', or how it's 'all wrong', or anything else entertaining that you can think of!

Those with undecided characters are welcome to 'NPC' it as a friend, guest, servant, or family member, etc.

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Dinner is announced with an a slightly unnerved sense to it, for the cooks and waitstaff had been hard pressed in meeting vague expectation.

The dining hall has been rearranged to support an additional table, spread with a mishmash panoply of drink and spicy foods from variety of cultures, including Canthan, Ascalonian, and Elonion- and even a few cross-species dishes. The usual method of wheeling in dish by dish the evening's fare has been discarded, as dictated by Rulon, in favor of this self-serve buffet and its extending foodclutter on the actual dining table. The standard middle-to-upper class Krytan food and drink is no where to be seen on the busy table setting.

Seating arrangements are wholly upset, as seating itself has been made into a tricky affair; the head and one long side are free and clear, with only minor inconvenience for the buffet table behind them, but the foot is cramped by furniture and the opposing long side is mushed as close to the wall as can be while still fitting a slender human.

"Dinner...is served."

The news that he would not be eating alone this eve had not met him well. Were they in the Black Citadel, he would have had lease to deal a thrashing to the waitstaff that arrived to inform him that they had failed to leave him his preferred selection of raw meat amidst the bustle of preparation. As he reached the bottom step he paused, recoiling from the collection of pungent odors that instantly accosted his nose. Through the door he spied his dining companions for the evening beginning to assemble, and briefly his gaze cast to the main entrance. There could still be time to go hunting...

At last he heaved a mighty sigh, trudging towards the dining hall with the only three words that he could think of upon his lips: "Burn my fur..."

» 9-1-12: Interest Dinner At The Duchy