Faustralia

May strolled through the dark streets of Faustralia, her sharp eyes glancing every which way. Her knives tucked away in her cloak and her slate clean. Faustralia would be a new start, though she was sad about leaving her perfect house in Ponville. But, she wasn't a criminal here, well, not yet.

She plucked her favorite dagger out of its pocket and started twirling it around as she walked, searching around for guards or other threats.

Chrome Blade opened the satchel full of coals and poured them into the forge. Second guessing himself, he checked the sign he had already checked 30 or so times-the open sign. It still said open. Sure, it was his first day with an open shop in Faustralia, and it was a blacksmith shop, not THAT popular, but he should have a couple customers by now.

He looked back to the fire and saw a coal had fallen to the musty old floor of the musty old building he had purchased, convenient with its own musty old skyroof to let the forge's smoke out. On instinct, he tried to levitate the coal back into the fire.

Obviously, nothing happened.

Chrome rubbed his broken horn and used his tongs to put the coal back into the fire.

He checked the open sign again to find a suspicious-looking mare twirling something glimmering, thus making her look more suspicious, while she walked, somehow absentmindedly walking on only three legs.

(Hmm. Peculiar.)