u/MothLikesChocolate

Hello, this is perhaps an odd question from a writer.
I have a character that is a magic powered robot. He is integrated with all kinds of musical instruments as he is a bard (lungs are bagpipes, stomach is a cello, his hands can swap out for flutes or trumpets/horns, his shoulder his a push click violin, etc).

Currently I'm trying to describe him performing a song. The instrument I want him to play it on would preferably be a Harp. How I describe he creates this harp is by folding his body in half, laying his left arm over his left leg, machinery things happen to attach each limb with harp strings. As he returns to an upright sitting position, he raises his left arm, bending into a traditional harp-shaped arch.

But this means he's only got one hand left to actually play and I've opted to describe this instrument as a Lyre-Like Harp because of that.

My question is two-fold.
Is the description of an instrument being a "Lyre-like Harp" utter nonsense?
And can you play a harp one handed? (If not, then theoretically, could you if you were a robot with six fingers?)

When I tried to Google it, I got lyres or handed exercises for harp playing.

Any help is appreciated!

I got a starter idea for a book I've been wanting to write about my DND character and wanted to see what people thought!
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It's notable when a forest is silent.

Although this type of silence is typically born from impending natural disasters, on this night it seemed to be born of mutual agreement. Not a single insect dared to buzz, no birds cooed, no chittering from the squirrels, and even the bigger animals took the time to watch their step and avoid crunchy leaves or breakable twigs.
This night was unique in two ways: the silence and what broke it.

Abandoned and nestled into the roots of a tree, a newborn wailed. Her loud cries echoed and amplified with each new intake of air.
Just as lonely as her, the oak cradling her stood independent from its brothers and sisters in a small, circular clearing. It's treeline flooded with creatures that hesitated to emerge from the safety of shadows, something unseen, unnatural was discouraging them from an easy, albeit noisy dinner. A druid not currently present would've picked up on the bits of conversation being whispered amongst the animal kingdom.

"What is it?" asked a goose.
"Why can't we eat?" questioned a wolf.
"Who left it?" quizzed an owl.
"What's that?" a brave mousling squeaked from behind his mother. He'd have been chastised for his volume if everyone hadn't been instantly distracted by divine ropes of light forming like a fence in front of them.

At the halfway point between the solitary tree and its occupant appeared a man. He seemed to fade into existence, stepping out from nowhere, his foot appeared first, sandaled and perfectly manicured. Followed by flowing robes of yellow, orange, and white, adorned with golden vestments of office that were as remarkable as they were unfamiliar this deep in the woods.

Then he was there, as if he'd always been, a man of pure divinity. His melanin-rich skin dusted with specs of gold, bronze hair was loced and tied up to show off glowing, golden sclerae and a soft smile.

He didn't need to try; his approach was careful and considerate. The god reached the tree in just three steps before slowly kneeling to the unaware crier. "Now, now, Little Light, why all the tears?" A voice melodic and smooth that could suit no one but him. The newborn hiccuped as her discordant lamentation was interrupted. Big green eyes met glowing ones, and the smaller suddenly found no need to restart her previous symphony.

"There we are." He hummed, curling a finger across her cheek to wipe away the remnants of sorrow. She continued to stare in wonder, unblinking at the touch. The celestial took this opportunity to scoop her into his arms, manifest a blanket, and smoothly swaddling her all in one graceful movement. A warm and welcome improvement, the babe yawned.

With a chuckle, the older poked her nose playfully. "Not yet, Little Light. We need to figure out how you got here." He moved his finger to her forehead and closed his eyes.
The silence rushed back in full force; everyone present had all but held their breath to observe the incredibly rare scene playing out before them. When glowing orbs shone once again, it was putting it mildly to say what he'd seen was disappointing, if not outright unpleasant.

"Mortals," He muttered, turning his head away briefly. The baby whined in response, pulling his attention back to her. The god obliged her and choked back whatever feelings he'd been stewing in. Now a decision had been made. "It's been a while since I've given Destiny a headache. Perhaps it's time for a migraine." He chuckled, earning a shared giggle from his bundle.

The pair went back to the halfway point between the tree and the treeline, and a swell of magic began. The fence of divine light shifted and flickered before one line became two, two became four, four became eight, and so on until the entire clearing floor was bathed in it. The god played his role and began to walk backwards slowly.

Initially, nothing else seemed to change until the swaddle unraveled. A newborn was now a toddler. Her blanket was now a nice black dress that reached her ankles. The celestial adjusted accordingly and carefully set her on her own two feet, keeping a gentle yet guiding hold on her hands. The toddler squealed and laughed as she stumbled around with newfound motor skills, holding tight to her guardian's hands. They continued their walk, one backwards, one forwards, and in moments the girl became sure-footed, allowing her eyes to never leave her saviors. A childhood was passing by in between the blinks of onlookers. What one wolf missed, a rabbit would witness instead, and vice versa.

As the toddler aged, she gained her own identifying features. Long black hair lay over her shoulders, green eyes changed to golden, glowing sclerae, and a similar glow settled in her ribcage.

It was just before she would have become a preteen, the god who'd been leading her, who'd saved her, suddenly gasped. He faltered, then stumbled, and finally fell to his knees, clutching the middle of his chest with a face contorted in agony. His magic was washed away with an abrupt swirl of wind, fading into the darkness that still lingered in wait of the oncoming dawn.

Thin hands of shadow shot from the treeline and wrapped around the god, pulling him into the soil he knelt on. It was over in seconds.

All that remained was an eleven-year-old girl who looked around with a confusion that said the childhood she'd been rushed through had not been imprinted upon her memory.

A blink into existence.