Morning sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows of The Copper Kettle, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across weathered wooden tables where early patrons savored their first meals of the day. Located just two streets from the Alchemist Guild, the establishment had earned a reputation for exceptional cuisine and—more importantly for David's current situation—discretion. Private booths lined the walls, each partially enclosed by ornate wooden screens that provided the illusion of privacy while still allowing patrons to participate in the tavern's convivial atmosphere.