Calcifer Cursewood grew up in Amberdell where she enjoyed a peaceful life in her neck of the woods, known among her companions for her kooky charm and theatrical mannerisms. From a young age she gravitated toward performance and sound, finding comfort in rhythm, storytelling, and the strange little moments between notes that others tended to overlook. While her pals were off tending to fields she would be getting up to mischief while tending to her chores with the local animals and bugs around. Once they came back after a day's work is done they would go sneak out and hangout around a campfire jokin' and playing tunes with each other while they shared in tales that were mostly lies, and lies that were mostly tales.
They began by playing simple tunes for their own enjoyment before gradually finding small gigs beyond their familiar surroundings, where Calcifer’s kooky enthusiasm quickly became a highlight of their performances. Recently her friend has started to talk about a gig they're looking to get outside the Vale, so now she's tasked with the choice of leaving for the first time. She doesn't know what she doesn't know but she's excited to get out into the world and see what's out there...only under the pretense she can come home safe and sound around the comfort of her familiars.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
*Calcifer Cursewood steps into the shack without hesitation, her reddish eyes drifting over the floating candles as if they are mildly interesting rather than unusual.*
“I like what you've done with the place lady,” she says softly, voice light and almost sing-song as she takes in the room. *She tilts her head at the old hag, studying her only momentarily with quiet curiosity before moving further inside to prod around the peculiarities and oddities within the shop.*
“I’m looking for someone,” Calcifer continues, folding her hands behind her back as she rocks gently on her heels. “A friend of mine got ahead of our group and didn’t come back when they were supposed to.”
*Calcifer glances toward the candles again, then back to the hag.*
“He headed this way to find a music gig for us.”
The old hag narrows her eyes slightly. “People don’t just vanish without reason in a town like this,” she mutters, voice rough and dry. “Especially not ones being looked for.”
Calcifer nods slowly, as if she finds this entirely reasonable. “That’s what I thought too,” she replies. “Which is why I came to ask instead of guessing.”
*The hag leans back in her chair, studying her.* “And what makes you think I’d know anything about it?”
*Calcifer gives a small, polite smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.* “You seem like someone who notices things others don’t,” she says simply. “And I’d rather ask the person who knows than the people who only think they do.”
*The old hag pauses for a moment before a smirk spreads across her face...*
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