Darayat throws the soldier a wink before turning to the other two. "Come on, you lot, you should get something in your stomachs before passing out." He starts wandering around the makeshift camp, searching for someone in charge of food.
Floyd is quick to his feet, "Right, I could use a bite." He and the second eagerly follow, while the third remains slack jawed a few moments more, finally shaking himself and rushing after.
It takes a fair amount of searching and asking around, but you eventually locate a food bearing transport. It is presently surrounded by a dozen soldiers, and they don’t look overly happy. On the ground there are a couple unconscious soldiers with bruises on their heads, along with an assortment of pans and cooking utensils. On top of the transport is a lone lizardman waving a skillet back and forth threateningly.
One of the soldier yells at the goblin, “Come on Cook’e, just give us a little something to e-“ He is cut short as he quickly ducks the metal projectile.
The lizard pulls another pan out from the canvas and snarls back, “Not mess time. You know rules.”