"The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life." -- C. S. Lewis

  Heaving a mental sigh, both of relief and confusion. I put the dragon’s visit out of mind. All the more reason to take a break, I decided. I’d always been motivated by quests in my video games and by immediate deadlines in my professional life; I wanted to make a conscious effort to slow down a bit and enjoy myself – insofar as that was possible. Obviously, being a non-motile dungeon core was going to come with some restrictions in hedonistic pleasure-seeking – not that I was all that prone to that in any event.

  Still, I could take some time out to at least try to catalog the local bird life. I assumed, since my naturalist title wasn’t all that rare, that I wasn’t exactly breaking new ground, but since I had no references to the local avifauna, I was on my own. The identify functions gave me the names of the various species as I encountered them within my domain; it didn’t give much information on their place in the local ecosystem, their identifying characteristics, migratory habits or anything else. I might have gotten some of that from my other naturalist skills, but I decided not to worry about those, just yet. For that matter, I had no idea how many species might be present. Were the handful of species I’d already seen the majority of what was present? Or just the tip of the flying iceberg? From prior knowledge, I knew that most islands had relatively limited numbers of species, but that was mostly due to isolation from larger landmasses. Would flying over a wide range of habitats result in a greater number of species? Would the vertical separation from those landmasses affect things? Were their species introduced by past residents that lingered on? I had lots of questions and no real answers.

  Frankly, though, I was enjoying that. In the absence of scholarly knowledge, I could do my own data collection, build up my own knowledge as if I were an explorer in an untouched world. That was daunting, but exciting. That said, the process wasn’t anything that elaborate, given that I was starting from scratch. I started by cataloging my available habitats – there were moderately extensive grasslands, what seemed like successional forest, and some limited riparian habitat. In the distance there were hills reaching up to a fairly high mountain. I’d expect some elevational changes in habitat, too, except I was forbidden from heading that way. I supposed the hawk-eagle could likely explore without irritating May, but I was going to give her as much space as possible for a while. I assumed the cliff edge might attract some cliff nesters as well, though I wasn’t really sure how that would work.

  The few species I’d seen so far suggested at least some endemic species, and the reported timeframe for the sky islands seemed to suggest that was to be expected. Thousands of years of at least partial breeding isolation should generate some endemic species, possibly even some fun flightless ones. I’d always found that concept interesting – that species isolated on islands tended towards gigantism or dwarfism. The island rule wasn’t all that tidy, though, with the effects moderated by a variety of factors ranging from temperature to island size to the influence of sapient inhabitants.

  Between the Hawk-Eagle and the ground squirrels, I had access to a broad range of viewpoints, and the Hawk-Eagle's sight provided vision equivalent to a reasonable set of binoculars, from the perspective of magnification. I even discovered that having it perch in visible locations would draw multi-species mobs of smaller birds hoping to drive it off. While I couldn't use my classify skill on them through the Hawk-Eagle, it did give me a more visual impression than my mana sight did and classify worked on anything in my domain (at least so far). Devoting even a couple of hours to bird identification (and more general nature observation) garnered me the completion of two more naturalist birding quests. I knew I should clean up some of the other early naturalist quests as well, but birding had been a hobby in my old world, and I felt like indulging.

  Species Identified: Rosy Greenfinch, Dwarf Bellbird, Gray-crowned Flycatcher, Brown Brush-sparrow, Sky Island Warbler

  Quest Completed: Spot a Bird – Reward: Choose two of the identified species

  Blueprint acquired: Dwarf Bellbird

  Blueprint acquired: Sky Island Warbler

  I chose those two for no clear purpose. The dwarf bellbird was a visually nondescript bird of browns and rufous, but with a startlingly loud, bell-like call. I didn’t know if it was “dwarf” because it was smaller than other bellbirds or if it had some association with dwarves, but I was interested enough in the sound to choose it. The warbler was a smaller, active bird of the treetops with the male having bright blues and yellows, and I chose it from a lingering affection for warblers in my old home and a vague desire to pick species endemic to the sky island.

  Quest Reset – Spot a Bird – Identify 10 new species of bird; Reward: T1 Avian Blueprint and T2 Avian Blueprint

  Species Identified: Torrent Teal, Sky Island Hawk, Green Brush-Warbler, Reedbed Sparrow, Lesser Brown Woodpecker, Elfin Treecreeper, Greater Grasslark, Grassland DuskOwl, Crag Swift, Marsh Swallow

  Quest Completed – Spot A Bird; Reward – Choose one T1 species and one T2 species from identified avians.

  Fortunately, I could tell which birds belonged in which tier from an inspection of their identifying information. Most, of course, were T1, with only the hawk, the owl and the Teal falling into T2. I expected that for the predatory species; I wasn’t sure what made the duck special. Looking closer, it had a water affinity suitable for its swift water habitat. I got the sense its magic mostly enabled it to swim more easily against the current; in return, it was a weak flyer. While that was interesting, I opted for the endemic hawk with its earth affinity, allowing it a weak earth-infused attack using a regenerating primary feather at its base. I also picked up the lark, a nondescript, mostly terrestrial bird with a striking musical ability.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Blueprint Acquired: Sky Island Hawk

  Blueprint Acquired: Greater Grasslark

  Quest Reset: Spot A Bird – Identify 15 new species of avian: Reward – 2 T1 avian blueprints and 1 T2 avian blueprint

  I’d gotten 2 additional species towards the reset – Riverine Flycatcher and Blue Queenfisher – when my birding activities were sidelined by new visitors.

  Unsurprisingly, the Hawk-Eagle had spotted them first. It appeared to be a party of five small humanoid creatures with skin tinted a grassy yellow-green and patchy, thin brownish fur providing natural camouflage. Their heads were hairless, with low, sloping brows and big yellow eyes suggesting a primarily nocturnal lifestyle. They moved in a crouched, semibipedal manner and likely would have been about 1.1 m tall, standing upright.

  Not being birds, and without securing a blueprint, I couldn’t be sure what species they represented just yet. Having said that, I had a pretty good idea from my Lesser Cave Goblin blueprint that these were from a closely related species – at a guess, one adapted more to living in grasslands as opposed to caves. Aside from their skin tone, they were also slightly taller and slenderer in build than the cave goblins. While I knew from my blueprint that the cave goblins were subsapient, possibly on the level of chimpanzees in my old world, I couldn’t be sure about these. They wore no clothes but seemed to have at least some simple tools in the form of pointed sticks and simple chert hammerstones. I could make out no actual language, but it seemed they mostly communicated through low grunting calls, hand gestures, and physical posture. Four were males and the lone female seemed to be in charge, insofar as observing them suggested she directed their path. Which was meandering, hesitantly, in the direction of my entrance. They had clearly reacted to my aura, in some fashion, when they’d crossed into my domain. They’d paused, scanned the area nervously, and proceeded towards the center of my surface zone with tools clutched and visible nerves. I was unsurprised to find that Classify now worked to identify them as Lesser Plains Goblins.

  As opposed to the dragon, or even the bear, I felt no threat from them. I was confident that not only could they not damage my core in the event they reached that far, but that the bears could take them out without an issue. They may have been T2 creatures, while the bears were T1, but they weren’t a great matchup – their added intelligence and weak earth affinity not enough to compensate for the sheer disparity in mass and physical power. Realistically, the only question was whether I wanted to kill them or set them up to return regularly. As it stood, I didn’t have any rewards set up that seemed likely to draw them back and wasn’t sure what value they might hold for me or if there were more in the area.

  I decided to let things play out to get a better sense of them and their capabilities. I sent the grizzlies out to forage beyond my boundaries; I set them no particular task but encouraged them to bring back something they hadn’t seen me produce before when they came back. The cubs had been with their mother for nearly a year, so I was confident they were capable of foraging for themselves. The dungeon-created bear didn’t need to eat or drink at all really, but I had discovered that it doing so saved me some mana in upkeep costs.

  I had sent the bears out once I was confident they’d be spotted by the visiting goblinoids. As seemed reasonable, the goblinoids had hidden themselves in some tall grass upwind where they could track the progress of the bears. As the bears moved out of sight, moving to the south and east, the goblinoids darted cautiously into the entrance the bears had exited. I wasn’t sure how the creatures would do against my traps and the smaller creatures, but I thought I could always have the bears ambush them on their departure.

  The goblins spent a couple of minutes exploring the bears’ den, not finding much of interest to them apparently, aside from a spray of healmint which the female eagerly secured. They sniffed cautiously at each doorway, and I assumed they could smell the badger, as the males formed up a rough line with weapons ready and rushed into its room. The badger wasn’t taken by surprise, but neither was it able to effectively combat the four creatures. The crude spears were enough to keep it out of biting range, though able to cause only shallow wounds in exchange. The badger managed to inflict a few nasty scratches, but nothing more before the spears pinned it down long enough for a vicious hammer blow to the skull to finish the job.

  The female goblin chewed the healmint and spread the paste on their injuries, to their visible relief, while the males used a sharpened rock to open the badger’s belly. That was followed by a rather messy feeding, complete with squabbling and low snarls between the males as they established a hierarchy. The apparently dominant male gave the female some choice bits while the others waited for him to come back for his share. Given that the badger was nearly as heavy as the smallest male, there was plenty to go around. Still, not much more than 20 minutes later, the now fairly gory creatures headed back into the bears’ den and through to the trapped hallway with a waterfall at the end.

  One of the subordinate males was made to take point, and it was quickly apparent that his scouting skills didn’t extend to spotting traps. He’d had just enough time to notice the smooth, slippery mica panel under his feet before crashing through and falling into the briars and bleed grass. He sent up some howls that his compatriots seemed to find amusing, mostly, and they gathered around hooting animatedly to watch him struggle free of the briars, dripping a dark red blood from numerous small scratches. The bleedgrass meant that was likely to continue for a while, but not long enough to really incapacitate the creature. Eventually, the dominant male lost his patience and reached down far enough to catch the arm of his subordinate as he leapt for the edge. Hauling him out, the group edged around the now-exposed pit trap and reformed. One of the other subordinates was made to take the lead, and this one was rather less lucky. Not more than a minute after starting down the hall, he’d stepped on the pressure switch. Looking down at his feet with a confused expression on his face turned out to be the worst possible reaction, as the spiked, wrought iron ball met his face in fairly explosive fashion, hurling his nearly decapitated remains back into the other goblins. Gutbuster trap or not, the goblin was just the wrong height to tank this trap successfully...

  That prompted much more in the way of terrified hooting, and at least one of the goblins nearly fell back into the first pit trap. In all, that really seemed to discourage them from further exploration, at least for today, and the female chittered at them briefly before leading them hastily back out the main entrance. I let them go their way in peace, curious to see if they’d come back another day.

  From the deceased goblin, I received a quick rush of mana and a new blueprint.

  Blueprint Acquired: Lesser Plains Goblin

  I remained unsure whether I simply hadn’t heard them speak enough to pick up the language or if their sounds, while clearly conveying some information, simply didn’t reach the level of an actual language. I leaned towards the latter, or at least I hoped so. I suspected the day would come when I killed a clearly sapient being, but I’d like to put that off as long as possible. The goblins were already pretty close to that line, if not across it.

  I cleaned up the remains, reset the traps, and alerted the adult bear that it was allowed to return when convenient.