Wyndspring's Log - 04

We ate breakfast as the train rolled past Damance Lake in the company of a felyne woman. Seth slept as the rest of us talked about local lore over bacon and hash. Marmite has taken to ale, having a large bowl for breakfast. Afterwards, we went to check on the package and wyndcart. On the way back, we stopped at the observation car.

String music filled the mostly empty car, played by a human girl. Sitting near her, Seth tries to conjure lyrics to her song. His poetry can use much work, but we applaud anyways. Another song begins, and with a lit smoke, I join in as well backing up his bad lyrics. Her instrument, a guitar, is fascinating as I watch her play it. Designs begin to form in my head as I question the design and the matter of acoustics.

Like us, she is leaving the train at Winkerhill Station. She is a young traveling minstrel, still nervous and new to the world. I complement her upon her skill with the guitar and recommend that she try to advance her skills at Winkerbottoms, a college of magic. Much to Seth's approval, she takes to the idea and she is invited to lunch with us in the lounge.

During lunch, I begin to actualize my design, naming it a soundspring. By the end of my double serving of sandwiches I get it to make sounds. After tuning it, the soundspring can be used to make a melody. The strings, six of them, are suspended with the instrument's shell. As a crank is turned the strings are plucked, the faster the crank is turned, the faster the tempo. Keys are fashioned along the neck which apply pressure to different strings which variate the notes. The afternoon provides ample opportunity to begin to learn how to play.

After dining, I retire to my room to build. During the evening I assemble a louder timer alarm for Bim as well as some extra soundsprings and timer alarms to sell at the next station. That night I dream of string music to the sound of the tracks.