Syrrus
Wishful bard
Syrrus got up to get her a drink and soon came back with juice for her and a dark beer for himself. He had to lie if he said that he didn't like Guinness. It was the best beer type in the world, according to him. Syrrus sat down at one of the tables, smiling at his lady, circling a finger over the top of the glass. This wasn't going to be all that bad. He almost couldn't wait to show the town what he actually could do.