Open.

Alec sat in the window of the Inn, bent over a rullete. It was an instrument that looked as if could be a cross between a guitar and a lute. It was a new instrument, a gift from his Bardic Uncle Cricket for his coming of age. Back when Alec had traveled with his grandfather, he had been apprenticed to his Uncle, but it never went anywhere. Alec's voice was just not made for singing, something that was very important for a bard. But he still knew how to play a few instruments and now that he had some sort of attention span, he felt like trying to get a bit better at it.

His fingers lightly brushed across the strings as he tried to recall a favorite melody, wincing at the wrong notes he struck.