As Michael stepped into the bustling dining area, his famished stomach growled audibly, protesting his delay in satiating its hunger. The relatively empty space indicated that he had arrived a bit early for dinner, prompting him to order some ale to temporarily appease his appetite.
Choosing a secluded table near the window, Michael kept his eyes fixed on the menu, barely glancing up as a woman approached. Speaking in a hurried tone, he placed his order, "Three flagons of ale, and please inquire about the start of dinner service."
Silence lingered, leaving Michael feeling increasingly uneasy. "Um, three flagons of ale, please," he repeated slowly, raising his volume, assuming the barmaid might be a bit slow.
