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Azor Grimcleaver's Pathfinder Chronicles - Chapter 1
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<blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 4346754" data-attributes="member: 4936"><p>Mellisande hurries into town from the river where she'd been washing up for the big day. She hadn't even waited for her 'good clothes' to dry completely. The day was sunny and warm though, and the chill of damp clothes faded fast. It was important to be quick though. Melli wouldn't be the only one plying the Festival crowd for coin, and the first act people saw would usually be the one they paid best for.</p><p></p><p>She had a nice voice and sure feet, but singing and dancing wasn't her specialty. She had a schtick few in town could match...and the ones that could were generally too stodgy and bookbound to do it. Magic!</p><p></p><p>At first glance, Mellisande was a young girl, of perhaps ten or twelve. Big, adorable blue eyes and short, scruffy white ragamuffin hair accentuated this. Her body was proportioned as if an adult woman had been somehow shrunk down though. This, and her pointy ears, set her apart from her peers. She'd worked long and hard on getting her Festival outfit ready...snug breeches and a shirt that showed enough shape to be pleasing to the eye, but with enough give, and a coat, that helped her mostly human audience not be a little disturbed by a well-formed lady the size of a child. A delicate balance indeed. She saved considerably money using little spells to color it a rich, fine burgundy that would have been expensive to dye.</p><p></p><p>While people ate and singers sang and dancers danced and acrobats...acro...batted...Mellisande called her pitch and juggled balls of light and sprayed little geysers of ribbons (that quickly evaporated) and took volunteers from her onlookers to give their foods interesting flavors. She tore a fine silk scarf and put it back as a good as new, and all the while her little bowl rattled as folk parted with spare copper...and even a few precious silver jingles. Most didn't give anything but their laughter and amusement...and that was fine too.</p><p></p><p>She listened to the Mayor's speech from the buffet, as she ate as fast as she could (without staining the little linen frill tucked under her neck) in this, her only spare moments. There'd be a few more speeches, then people would be back to milling around, eating and looking for entertainment.</p><p></p><p>At the sight of the dog atrocity, Mellisande spat out her mouthful of chicken! There were nights when her only friends had been little stray dogs, looking for warmth, offering companionship. Her eyes narrowed, and she clambered up onto a table.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">"Everyone grab something sharp and lets GET these bastards!!"</span> she yelled.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shayuri, post: 4346754, member: 4936"] Mellisande hurries into town from the river where she'd been washing up for the big day. She hadn't even waited for her 'good clothes' to dry completely. The day was sunny and warm though, and the chill of damp clothes faded fast. It was important to be quick though. Melli wouldn't be the only one plying the Festival crowd for coin, and the first act people saw would usually be the one they paid best for. She had a nice voice and sure feet, but singing and dancing wasn't her specialty. She had a schtick few in town could match...and the ones that could were generally too stodgy and bookbound to do it. Magic! At first glance, Mellisande was a young girl, of perhaps ten or twelve. Big, adorable blue eyes and short, scruffy white ragamuffin hair accentuated this. Her body was proportioned as if an adult woman had been somehow shrunk down though. This, and her pointy ears, set her apart from her peers. She'd worked long and hard on getting her Festival outfit ready...snug breeches and a shirt that showed enough shape to be pleasing to the eye, but with enough give, and a coat, that helped her mostly human audience not be a little disturbed by a well-formed lady the size of a child. A delicate balance indeed. She saved considerably money using little spells to color it a rich, fine burgundy that would have been expensive to dye. While people ate and singers sang and dancers danced and acrobats...acro...batted...Mellisande called her pitch and juggled balls of light and sprayed little geysers of ribbons (that quickly evaporated) and took volunteers from her onlookers to give their foods interesting flavors. She tore a fine silk scarf and put it back as a good as new, and all the while her little bowl rattled as folk parted with spare copper...and even a few precious silver jingles. Most didn't give anything but their laughter and amusement...and that was fine too. She listened to the Mayor's speech from the buffet, as she ate as fast as she could (without staining the little linen frill tucked under her neck) in this, her only spare moments. There'd be a few more speeches, then people would be back to milling around, eating and looking for entertainment. At the sight of the dog atrocity, Mellisande spat out her mouthful of chicken! There were nights when her only friends had been little stray dogs, looking for warmth, offering companionship. Her eyes narrowed, and she clambered up onto a table. [COLOR="Lime"]"Everyone grab something sharp and lets GET these bastards!!"[/COLOR] she yelled. [/QUOTE]
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