As night fell, when Thales and Jann stepped into the glittering banquet hall, the Competing Feast had only started an hour ago, yet the guests had already engaged in lively conversations with clinking glasses, some even drunkenly staggering all around, and a few unrestrained foreign visitors were wildly swaying and dancing in the Iris Garden, howling like ghosts and wolves, competing in singing.
This indeed gave Thales a new impression of the Southern Shore's banquet customs: an unending supply of fine food and drinks, minstrels playing continuously without breaks, with no need to wait for the host to arrive for the guests to kick off a night of wild merriment on their own.
