It was an historical battlefield, a floating fortress, a center for Police and Navy alike. It had bustling civlian areas, a plethora of venues, a network of government offices - so much that it staggered one just to think about it.
Yet, among these various places, there lied one spot, a quiet, out of the way cafe. It's sign was a bit worn, but one could make out it's name: Cafe d'Observateur d'Etoile
The inside was quite unlike any other place in Gallia - there was antiquated tables and chairs, hewn from cut wood, rather than the metal and synthetic materials which had dominated manufacturing industries. There was a long table towards the back, backed by an array of gleaming refrigerating units, built into the wood, along with minimally decorated pantries, filled with dried goods, and 2 stoves, decorated with wrought iron frames. The only sign of procing was a small wooden tablet, propped up at the counter. The din of the scattered patrons was low, and the coffee quite hot.