"Sure. I'm on waiting duty right now, and that table over there's full of hungry folk. Wanna go give them the stew?"

It's a domestic sight for certain, but a job is a job. Roland offers Quatre a tray, unsteady and heavy from the number of bowls balancing precariously on its surface, and nods his chin towards the farthest end of the inn where adventurers from another world - definitely not Voidtreckers - looked solemn and tired.

"I'll help you carry the mugs. Come on."