Testran rushed into the inn and eatery. It was most certainly cold outside, with the winter soon coming in. The cape fluttered on his back, definitely not serving it's purpose of keeping the cold from freezing his blood into near solid chunks. "Barkeep," he called, sitting down at the bar and tossing out a jumble of coins that clinked noisily on the stone tabletop. "Bring me a glass of drink! Preferably something warm, if you don't mind." He certainly hoped that it was enough. The last town he went through didn't appreciate the finer arts, and barely gave him anything at all. The bartender nodded, then passed him a tankard of steaming brew. Testran drank quickly, then walked over to the center of the room and set his case down, pulling out from it a guitar and strumming up the beginning of a musical piece.