Merri/Open - noon
The smells throughout the district, when Merri could pick out something other than alcohol, were delicious. He slowly walked past each stall and paused at every single one that offered food, and his mouth watered as he laid his eyes upon various types of Kerwonian cuisine being barbecued or cooked. He couldn't well make up his mind as to what he wanted to eat for lunch, but with each footstep he took his stomach seemed to make sure it wanted to be heard over the din of the drunken crowd.
Finally, Merri settled on a booth that sold sausages with sides of spätzle and sauerkraut. He remembered last year that he really liked spätzle, at least, but he'd had some sort of ham hock with it (he couldn't remember the Kerwonian name for it) and he'd never had this kind of sausage before: a weisswurst, the sign said. He made his order and, somehow, he wound up with a cup of beer in his hands after he paid. Puzzled, Merri maneuvered the crowds as best as he could to find an open bench somewhere to sit; with any luck, he'd do it without losing his food.