Entering the establishment, visitors are greeted with a long, dimly lit hallway, the walls littered with paraphernalia. Notices and wanted posters are haphazardly stuck to the dark red stucco that runs the length of the gloomy interior.  At a glance, the hallway appears to be vacant, but soon the illusion is dispelled. The dim atmosphere is broken into by the sounds and sights of life. Busy-looking people pass through, carrying what appears to be deliveries down the hall and out the front door while others sit and talk in a huddled group in the small room just off the main hallway.

 

​

At the end of the hall, visitors must turn either left or right.

 

​

To the right lies an archway leading to a stairwell, a faint glow of light visible from below.
 

To the left sits a lone wooden door with no sign in sight. However, most visitors don’t get as far as touching the door knob before they’re greeted by a highlander in an apron, one who looks far more suited for pummeling people than working as the chef for the establishment.