After the initial shock of being dropped into a strange place, alone and without most of his traveling gear, Schmendrick had decided that the City was not, in fact, such a horrible place. He could handle this: he wasn't happy about it, mind you, but he didn't panic or get angry the way he might have, once upon a time. He had his wits, and he could form a plan. Someone was sure to know of a way home. He'd just ask around.
It had proved harder than expected. No one seemed to know where Hagsgate was, and when he'd explained that he wanted to get home, they gave him pitying looks. He wasn't the first one to have been in this situation, it seemed.
So, Schmendrick set up temporary arrangements. He'd found a key to an apartment in his pocket, and while the idea of living in a compartment half the size of Haggard's kitchen didn't really appeal, it was shelter. Schmendrick had never been one to turn up his nose at free shelter. Or food.
Food was going to be slightly harder to come by. He'd had no idea that he ought to look in the refrigerator, because he had no idea what a refrigerator was. So, instead, he'd taken to the nearest street corner to do magic for coin or food. It was humiliating, but let it not be said that Schmendrick refused to embarrass himself in the pursuit of a good meal.
At the moment, three balls were busy juggling themselves. It was a simple enchantment, but it wasn't working entirely to plan. As Schmendrick reached into his pocket for something to transfigure, one of the juggling balls whalloped him hard, against the side of his head. The other two followed suit. WHAM. WHAM. Suddenly they were busy boxing his ears, which was decidedly not what he'd intended when he'd muttered the sing-songy spell.
"OW." Schmendrick hissed, lifting his hands to protect his skull. The balls abruptly dropped, one knocking him soundly on the crown as it fell. They hit the pavement and scattered, rolling off in all directions.