4th Summer 516 AV, Outside Sunberth, mid-day
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After playing at the inn the night before, Baran had come to realise he needed some new things for his gamba. Despite his lifestyle, and the difficulty in maintaining his instrument, he would never stop playing, not for anything. However, keeping care of his instrument whilst it was tied in cloth only, or trying to get by on the basics wouldn't cut it, not any more. Although he had been playing decently the previous night, his bow had started to skate across the strings alarmingly easily. To be able to play well, he'd need to re-stock his currently empty supply of rosin. Maybe he'd shell out on a proper instrument case, too.
So, early that morning, the man had gone back to where he'd been the night previously. The market in particular was where he had looked, one of the busiest, messiest, most unorganised places he'd seen. Unfortunately for him though, he'd been unable to find what he'd been looking for. Baran had been stumped for a while, trying to think what to do.
He'd been worried that Sunberth wouldn't exactly have much in the way of supplies for a musician, and apparently he'd been proven right. He'd managed to find a gamba instrument case, slightly shoddy and with a suspicious dent, but it was better than what he had currently. And it came equipped with leather straps, not only to keep it closed but to put on his back, which was exactly how Baran preferred it.
The next thing he'd searched for was rosin, but it seemed there wasn't anything. The best thing he'd found was a sprightly young man selling battered old fiddles. They'd had a chat, and Baran had asked him if he sold rosin. In response, the man had told him no, but had instead described how he made his own rosin, 'to save money'.
All Baran needed, apparently, was beeswax, pine tree sap a bowl with holes and a bowl without, and some cloth. So, he'd bought two small metal bowls, a dagger with which to stab holes, some cloth and a chunk of beeswax. Then he was supposed to heat them up and filter it, somehow, and then let it harden. How he was supposed to do that was a bit of a mystery, but that was why he was wandering, with Meredith the pony, through the dusty turf a little distance from Sunberth, searching for a tree.
Ledger :
