There was something to be said for the food on the market level. It was hearty, it was cheap, and the ones who prepared it suffered no fools or air-wasters. One could spend twenty credits on a paltry tuber appetizer with crumbled meat flakes and melted cheese and a smattering of limited herb sprinkled over the top, or one could come to the working-people's market, spend five credits, and receive a plate with fire-grilled meat cutlets, some sort of par-boiled leafy green, a handful of some spice blend dashed over the top, and ale-battered tuber fries wrapped up and drizzled with whatever condiment concoction was on offer for the day.

And that was just one small stall's offering.

The uppers truly were missing out, and for Idiri that was all the better.

She had finished her meal, passing off her tray to a bustling server who was also tending to a handful of other quick-eating diners. Satisfied and ready to continue, the old Kaleesh left her perch and continued on into the morass of other shoppers.

A Cizerack female pushed past her, followed by a quick succession of others on their way to... something. The energy of the small stream of bodies hurrying to wherever was enough to pique her curiosity, and Idiri found herself sliding into the line and letting the current guide her.