Who: Dustfinger & ??? What: Doing what he does best. When: Weeks after Mo read them into Fantasia. Where: The Village Square Rating: G Status: Open and incomplete.
Strangely enough Dustfinger was starting the get accustomed to waking up in different lands. Not that he was particularly thrilled to be in a new village with nothing but his leather pack and the clothes on his back, but he’d begun to expect such things from the Bluejay. There was no point in denying it now. It was his doing afterall and Dustfinger really was the man’s “Shadow,” since he tended to follow him every where- that is, to whatever world they traveled. He wondered who else had followed, more than likely Meggie, but nevertheless locating Silvertongue was a priority. Until then finding the nearest village and earning some cash to support himself.
A days trek later and the fire dancer found himself in a rather small but busy town lined with cottages that reminded him of village nearest Roxanne’s cottage. It was never as lucrative as performing in Lombrica but the Motley Folk frequented and performing with his own find was always best. Other performers trusted most, they sat closest with non-judgmental eyes, offered free music, wine, mead, wares, or crafts for trade instead of money. Sometimes even merely the company or conversation was worth more that whatever he would earn in the streets of the city.
Finding an appropriate location in the center square, Dustfinger rubbed his hands together and breathed gently into them. He passed his hand over the rounded end of three torches, setting them aflame. Slowly, carefully he juggled them into the air, starting with a simple, traditional skill. His pack shuffled behind him and the horned Gwin popped his head out, darting around the corner, probably off to go kill himself a chicken or rodent for lunch.