It was the day of the fair. A myriad of booths filled the center of the midsized town of Bedrod laden with every sort of food, trinket, or textile imaginable. There were a few other entertainers as well. Lark had wandered through the maze of commerce earlier, inspecting the competition. A puppet theater had set up in the largest open area by the fountain. A sickly looking juggler tossed scarves into the air. Lark swung her lute around her shoulders and tuned it carefully. She had placed herself near the richest looking textile merchants. Customers always lingered over the piles of beautiful fabrics, and hopefully the fine quality of the cloth was going to attract rich clientele who dropped gold coins into the hats of very feminine looking performers. Lark was a woman, but she usually traveled alone and she found it best to travel as a man in order to avoid the harassment and raised eyebrows that a woman alone tended to attract. Women were generally more generous with their coins, anyway. Once she had found a good corner, Lark put her hat down and began to play, weaving a complex and beautiful melody with each pluck of a string.