Tiny Dungeon

Toral Li’Ar was on a mission. He was soaring through the air when he felt the pulse of power that sang through the woods below him. He paused in his flight, curious. He was out and about on the orders of the elder, scouting a few days out from the Mother Tree for any threats. Scrunching his tiny face up in thought he figured he could afford to deviate, if only to find out where the pulse came from.

He dove and was soon flitting above the branches of the trees in the direction of the pulse he had felt. For whatever reason the pulse had made him hungry like when the Mother Tree gave forth her fruits. That thought gave speed to his wings and he powered on. He had to dodge three different birds though now that he was closer to the forest canopy.

A shadow made him dart around the trunk of a tree, just in time for a beak to snap closed where he had been a moment ago. Toral risked a glance backward to confirm his suspicions. Yup, that was a jackdaw alright. Why was it always a jackdaw? He could almost hear the elders' words in his mind, “Our wings are our most precious pair of limbs and the Maker chose in his wisdom to also make them beautiful. Beware of creatures who collect shiny things for they will target you, if only to pluck them from your back.”

Toral snarled at the jackdaw who let out a croak in response. It continued darting after him and Toral continued to evade it, ducking under branches and flitting between leaves. The jackdaw was fast but Toral was faster. He ducked around another tree and darted straight up into the leaves. He watched as the jackdaw continued flying past, having lost sight of the little shiny creature it had been hunting.

Chuckling quietly, Loral gave his iridescent wings a little flutter, enjoying how the sun glinted off them. He was glad he had escaped so easily. Reaching into his vest, he pulled out a tiny glittering particle that easily fit in one hand. He only had one dot of dust and he didn’t want to waste it on something so simple. The Elder had strictly forbidden him from using it unless in the most dire of circumstances.

Putting the dot back he made sure that the jackdaw was gone before continuing his journey. It didn’t take him long after that to find what he was looking for. Looking like a cracked eggshell from the distance he arrived to find a clearing with a massive sprawling building ringed by a large porch. Even as he looked in he saw that the clearing had some sort of barrier around it that included some of the trees on the outskirts.

He was intrigued to see that although the barrier was damaged, it was in the process of rebuilding itself. Looking down he saw a variety of beasts clawing at the shield but they accomplished nothing more than making it ripple a little bit. What interested him was that smaller beasts and some birds could pass right through as if they didn’t count. Curious he darted out from the safety of a tree to see if he could pass through and found to his delight that he could. Still, he darted back to safety before any birds tried to test their luck.

He watched the goings on with growing intrigue. Why did they want to get in? His wings fluttered in anticipation and he couldn’t let go of the idea. Knowing he would be scolded when he returned, Loral darted into the barrier and began to investigate. Dodging under the porch to hide from the birds he gradually made his way around the house until he came upon the strangest of sights. A mink, and an evolved one at that, was fighting against five mice and a snake. It was winning of course, but finding a snake and mice working together was weird. What came next was even more so.

Squeaking in rage a huge mouse came charging out of a hole in the wall to engage the mink. With a needle? That it used like a sword? Loral was growing even more confused when he felt a presence stir. He stiffened turning this way and that, trying to determine the origins of the Aura. He wasn’t in it, he was just outside the boundary but as a scout for his people he had been trained to identify magical signatures and this one, while objectively weak compared to some, was deeper for some reason.

He turned and watched as the mouse defeated his opponent and then his mouth dropped as it began to shine with the light of evolution. Not just the one mouse either but every creature that had participated in the battle. He watched as the mink disappeared and its pelt was transformed. He watched as the needle was crafted into a blade that rivaled some of the Leprechauns’.

He watched the mice troop inside the hole in the wall and then watched the grass and ground move to cover the snake that had curled up to evolve. He shook himself slightly, unable to believe what he was seeing. Gradually the word came to him and his mind raced with implications.

Dungeon.

He bolted, pushing his wings to their limits. He had to return to the Mother Tree. The elder had to know, he had to call a council. His wings blurred as he burst through the barrier and took to the high skies. This was huge, momentous, impossible. A Dungeon, here in the Sylcyne Forest right under their noses. All the struggles of his people could be solved. They had to be told.

He slipped the dot of dust out of his pocket and gripped it tightly. This certainly counted as an emergency. He crushed the glittering mote in his hand and shuddered as Aether flooded his body. His wings hummed and he took on a brilliant glow as he carved a blazing line in the sky back to the Mother Tree. Loral Li’Ar, Fairy Scout, was on a mission and he wouldn’t be stopped by anything.

Beneath the canopy, glittering cruel eyes watched the path the fairy blazed in the sky. Turning, the small creature beheld the direction that the fairy had taken. Gripping its staff it laid about itself rousing other creatures slumbering nearby. With guttural whines for mercy, the others rose as the one wielding the staff pointed. Understanding dawned in the little creatures’ eyes and they gazed at the light hungrily before looking at the creature with the staff.

It nodded to them and began to move through the forest. It would have to gather the village but whatever the winged ones wanted they would claim it first. Too long had they been at the bottom. Too long had they been pushed aside by the taller races and called nasty names. The Fallen would not stay that way if Warmeister Geckodo had anything to say about it.