At the table, a burly man tearing apart an entire roasted beast leg paused and lifted his eyes from behind the meat.
His gaze lingered on the woman for a moment before returning to the food in his hands, and he gave only a barely perceptible nod.
In another corner, a woman dressed in clothes as gaudy as a stage costume leaned against the wall, toying with an excessively decorated fan. Her needle-sharp gaze scraped over every corner of the room.
Beside her stood a lean, muscular man with his back against the wall and his arms folded. His half-lowered eyelids made him look as though he were dozing, but the occasional glance he cast toward the doorway was sharp as a blade.
At the other end of the hall, however, the scene was entirely different.
The smell of alcohol mingled with sweat amid the heat and clamor.
Raucous laughter rose in waves, almost lifting the painted ceiling.
Waitresses in matching dresses flitted through the crowd like butterflies, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling as they gazed up at the men spraying spittle as they talked.
"That blade was this close to the tip of my nose!"
A heavily bearded man held two fingers a tiny distance apart and slapped his companion hard on the back with his other hand. "I twisted my waist, dodged it, and knocked that lousy sword right out of his hand with a backhand strike!"
The young men gathered around him gasped in amazement. Growing even more pleased with himself, he pulled a waitress serving wine into his arms and pinched her waist.
The waitress giggled without pulling away and filled his cup with amber liquid again instead.
Similar groups were scattered throughout the spacious hall.
At the center of each stood one or more people