Ah! That explains it! I, too, fell in love with the right instrument merely at a glance. It all really starts from there.
[The ghost of Old Jaskier rises, possessing him; his hands move with energy as he goes across the tavern to pluck up a perfect replication of the lute he received at the hands of Filavandrel; though the sight and weight of it still fills him with sorrow, the idea he can pass on this skill to Ciri, of all people, allows him to bear that same weight.
It isn't an elven lute that made him who he is, anyway. It's only... she was there for the whole way.]
As long as you go in knowing the quality of it won't help you if you don't know how to use it. However, I can't say a pretty instrument won't distract from a missed note sometimes. [He smiles, holding the lute out in offering.] Well... it's a complicated question, considering the nature of the lute. Every one is unique, really. [Oh, Ciri, you really got him started.] Personally, I look for a rich wood to start with.
[And so he quickly falls into the descriptions of the bridge, the pegs, the feeling of wood under his fingers and the number of strings. Of how one can discern the difference between real lamb-gut strings and a false string, made of horsehair or somesuch. It has to be proper gut, thank you.
His ramblings begin to wane a bit as he realizes he might ben watching the light in Ciri's eyes die.] This is a lot all at once, isn't it?
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[The ghost of Old Jaskier rises, possessing him; his hands move with energy as he goes across the tavern to pluck up a perfect replication of the lute he received at the hands of Filavandrel; though the sight and weight of it still fills him with sorrow, the idea he can pass on this skill to Ciri, of all people, allows him to bear that same weight.
It isn't an elven lute that made him who he is, anyway. It's only... she was there for the whole way.]
As long as you go in knowing the quality of it won't help you if you don't know how to use it. However, I can't say a pretty instrument won't distract from a missed note sometimes. [He smiles, holding the lute out in offering.] Well... it's a complicated question, considering the nature of the lute. Every one is unique, really. [Oh, Ciri, you really got him started.] Personally, I look for a rich wood to start with.
[And so he quickly falls into the descriptions of the bridge, the pegs, the feeling of wood under his fingers and the number of strings. Of how one can discern the difference between real lamb-gut strings and a false string, made of horsehair or somesuch. It has to be proper gut, thank you.
His ramblings begin to wane a bit as he realizes he might ben watching the light in Ciri's eyes die.] This is a lot all at once, isn't it?