I found myself in southern Oregon now. I wasn’t regretting the job, but I was unsure what I was doing. Maxine Hamilton had booked me a fancy private booth on a train that I couldn’t have ever hoped to afford, so during the ride I decided to spend my time preparing this bestiary of hers to the best of my ability. Unfortunately I had only come up with little more than a template and two subjects, beast men and wizards. Maxine was my most recent example of the former, and a poor example of the latter– at least I wanted to believe that was right. After name was type, humanoids, constructs, goblinoids, demihumans, and the like. How rare the creature was to encounter– which may be the hardest part to determine, disposition, habitat, and lastly any notes– mostly how they look and any other comments I may have.
	I turned to look out the window, the setting sun cast its dim orange glow across the sky. I was sitting at a nice wooden desk. The window was to my left and a magic design of a steam locomotive spun its wheels and billowed steam in front of me. It was a little distracting. A plate sat on the coffee table behind me, the remnants of a chicken fried steak I had enjoyed a few hours ago, its aroma still gracing my cabin. The small desk in front of me was where I kept my notes and the journal I would be writing any and all details I could think of. Apart from my notes was a book I had laid out before me, finished and ready to be traded for another at whatever bookstore I could find in Highrock. To my left, below the window was a twin sized bed where my two bags lay strewn about, and against the wall behind me was a comfortable leather couch. It was my second of three days traveling. I would arrive in the small coastal town of Highrock tomorrow evening. I was getting anxious. I didn’t have instructions on who I was supposed to meet, I just hoped it would be fruitful for this project. 
	I rubbed my face and put my book and work aside. The cabin wasn’t exactly lavish, but was quite cozy. All the colors were some form of  cream or brown. A cream carpet, brown leather seats, very soft, beige blankets on the bed, brown faux supports on the otherwise cream walls in the corners of the room. Not exactly striking to say the least. Pictures of trains, new and old, also adorned the walls, their frames adding a much needed golden warmth to the boring surroundings. Along with the aforementioned magical train imagery, in lieu of a clock there was a magicked flower of some kind on the wall near the door. It was a bit difficult to read, but seemed to gain petals with each passing hour before losing them all at twelve. There were some small tables– the nightstand and a side table for the couch, holding bottles of wine, bottled liquor, and even sweets all tempting me. I had been assured they were included with the room, but I still felt odd partaking in the liquor. Although I couldn’t hold back from the taffy sweets. It was getting late now. Dusk was passing and giving way to night, which painted the sky in beautiful hues of purples and blues, dotted by the brightly shining stars only visible like this in the countryside. It was a nice change from my typical scenery at home, but I couldn't waste time thinking of that now. Then my stomach grumbled. If I couldn't work then I should at least eat, I figured. I picked up my plate and stepped out into the hallway, traveling through the railway cars to the food car where I dropped my dirty plate off. The other train cars were all similar. I was in the front passenger car which had a short, gray carpet and held three cabins in each car, all looking much like mine from what little I had gleamed. 
	The food car had multiple booth and bar seats, each one a crimson leather with a lighter wood accent. The tables and bar were both made of this light wood. At the bar, I could place orders even late into the night, the halfling bartender keeping himself busy cleaning glasses. The thought of an interview crossed my mind, but I didn’t want to bother him at work, or so I told myself, but if I had been honest I couldn't find the will to interact with him as I was afraid I would stumble over my words trying to come up with suitable questions. As we passed under a bridge, the lights dimmed and I thought I saw a flash of white in the corner of the room. I frowned as I looked at the booth seats. Nothing caught my eye. I shook myself, “Lack of sleep,” I grumbled.
	“Hm?” The halfling looked up at me, “Can I get you a drink?”
	“Oh, no thank you,” I picked up a menu of snacks, “How about some peanut butter and chocolate ice cream, a tube of cheddar chips…” My stomach growled again as I peered over the menu of snacks, “Some of those Newman’s chicken bites,” I relented and showed him my room card. Maxine was covering that too.
	“Wonderful choices. Give me just a moment,” He smiled and stepped off his stool and into the closed off kitchen.
	Wonderful smells came from it, and I thought to write down a detail that even I knew– halflings were wonderful cooks. I took a deep breath and leaned on the bar. I continued making mental notes as I ran my fingers over the smooth, waxed countertop. The races of Men. Halflings, dwarves, elves, gnomes… Humans too? I wondered, “What about subspecies?” I found myself groaning, “Not to mention goblins, orcs, beast folk… Fey…”
	“Fey?” A small voice inquired.
	I whipped around, startled at the intrusion, only to find that no one was around. I wiped my forehead, “I’m losing it.”
	“Are you alright?” The halfling had returned. He placed a silver tray on the bar before me. Two water bottles, a tall tube of chips, a little container of ice cream, and the delectable smelling glazed, sweet and spicy chicken, “I brought you some water too.”
	“I appreciate it,” I nodded, “And I’m fine, just tired. Thanks.”
	I took my food up in my arms and hurried back to my personal cabin. After using my card to open the door, I scurried inside. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, alone again. I set my food down and put the cold foods away in the small fridge in the corner of the room. Then I stripped my clothes off and scooped up my backpack before hurrying into my private bathroom. A quick rinse in the shower ought to calm my nerves.

	Steam poured from my bathroom as I stepped out. Shorts and a loose shirt covered my form. The overhead lights were off. A small glow emanated from the coffee table. My eyes grew wide as I tiptoed over. That same white light I had seen in my peripheral at the bar was actually a small creature that was now groaning in pain. The creature was a pixie, I recognized it from an old book, though the pictures did not do her kind justice; she was quite beautiful, like a living doll. She was a lithe little thing, barely bigger than the size of my hand. Her skin looked smooth and soft, her dark complexion was rosy and warm much like the fuzzy puff of white fluff that clung around her neck and shoulders like a lion's mane– or perhaps more fittingly that of a moth, given the spindly antennae and the equally furry wings that flapped pitifully behind her. Amusingly, this gave her the look of a ball of puff, and I wondered if it was some kind of camouflage from wandering eyes. Her hair was cut short, but was still quite feathery and messy as it fell on her shoulders, my gazing then brought me to her most striking feature: her eyes. Much like the starlit night, they looked like black globes reflecting the night sky. Though small in size upon close examination I found them mesmerizing. Then it occurred to me that she was looking back at me before she quickly shut them and I had to say something, “Uh, miss?” I leaned down at the small creature,  “Are you… okay?” I wanted to poke at her, but thought it best that I kept my hands to myself.
	Her eyes fluttered open, showing me her all black eyes, “Spicy…” She mewled. It was then that I realized what she had done.
	As a chuckle left my lips, I went to the freezer and grabbed my ice cream. I peeled the top off and offered her a small spoonful with the attached plastic utensil. Like a bee on a flower, the pixie threw herself onto the frozen delicacy. She ate half of it before rolling onto her back, “Oh, that’s so much better!” She buzzed cheerfully.
	I flipped the light on. She had eaten half of one of my chicken bites just as I had suspected, “Why are you taking my food?”
	“What do you mean? You gave me food willingly, friend,” She stood up and folded her arms. I spotted a small sheathed sword and a backpack made of a leaf-like material on the table next to her. What I thought had been a leotard, actually seemed to be a silvery dyed leather armor piece. Her forearms were similarly adorned as was her legs from the knee down ending in a pair of black, pointed shoes.
	I stopped myself from arguing with her as I realized what good fortune this was. This was a learning opportunity. This was exactly what my travels were for. I quickly relented to her comment, I had given her the ice cream after all, “Right. Well, finish your chicken, then,” I plated up a single piece of the glazed, breaded chicken and a bit of ice cream.
	The silvery pixie seemed amazed by this, taking out her small sword and cutting a bit of chicken for herself, “Wow! Thanks, human!” Her accent was hard to place. Not really Scottish, but she had a similar inflection in her light, warm speech.
	“It’s Reece, miss.”
	“You tall folk are so strange,” She shook her head at me, “Giving out your names so easily. They hold power, human.”
	“Maybe amongst your kind,” I shrugged, “But in my defense, Reece is only part of my name. Is there… Something I can call you?”
	The pixie looked up at me as she chewed on some chicken. She twirled her blueish sword in her hand idly, “Well, you did share food with me. Kleeix.”
	“Kleeix the pixie?”
	“Kleeix the explorer, warrior, sight seeker, and musician extraordinaire!” She stood and gave me a deep, flourishing bow. The fluff on her body shook as she used such large movements.
	I nodded and wrote down her myriad of titles, “What are you doing here?”
	“Mapping the realms of men. I hopped aboard this people mover to see more of the world,” She sat down on her backpack and stabbed her sword into the wooden table. 
	“I see…” I kept scribbling notes, “And by people mover, you mean this train.”
	She gave me a blank look, “There isn’t any training here. This transportation is quite a bore, actually. Why are you here? You don’t look like a fighter.”
	“I’m not. I’m an author and chronicler. I’m traveling to meet new people and creatures and write about them.”
	Kleeix stood, putting her fist in her other hand, “Then we have the same goal! Since we are friends now, I shall accompany you!” She gave me a smile.
	I found myself smiling back, “I feel like there’s more to it than me just sharing food–”
	“But that’s exactly it! No fairy nor pixie has been kind enough to share a meal with me, much less a human! Thank you.”
	“You’re welcome,” I nodded, “But why is that significant?”
	“You tall folk are so backwards,” She huffed, “While we fey take whatever food we need, to be given excess is a great kindness! You heavy, lumbering tall folk are so archaic, strange, and perhaps some would call you evil with this buying and selling of food. Such a necessary commodity kept behind access to currency. Bah!” Kleeix ate some more chicken and then more ice cream, picking out a chunk of chocolate to nibble on.
	I took notes on fey culture, did they all share her explicit disdain for money? Or was it the simple act of trading goods? That might be too personal for now, so I changed subjects, “Are all pixies warriors?”
	“Just me. Others like pranks and jokes, but I crave adventure,” She smiled, “What about you? Surely there is more to life than books and paper. A gorgeous woman at home? A sense of adventure? A desire to be more than just… yourself.”
	I slumped a little bit, “No… Just books and paper.”
	“Then you definitely need my help, human– Reece,” She corrected herself, “You are not built for this.”
	I slumped more, “I know that.”
	The pixie gracefully flew from her seat to where my hand rested on the couch. Her fluffy wings fluttered as she knelt down and touched my hands, running her cool, tiny fingers over my dry knuckles, “No need to look so glum. I shall be by your side throughout your adventure! I have years of this under my belt, seeing all four corners of the fey lands of this world and the old!”
	I nodded and sighed, “I am simply overwhelmed, I guess,” I slowly sat up and returned to my note taking, “And I've hardly even started.”
	“One step at a time, my dear,” She flew up and gently sat on my shoulder. She was almost impossibly light, nearly without any weight. I felt her grip my earlobe for stability as she watched me write. “So what is it exactly that you're writing here, Reece the Chronicler?”
	“I was commissioned to write a bestiary, a book of however many different creatures I meet,” I explained, “I’m writing about our meeting first, truth be told. I… hope you don't mind.”
	“I suppose I don’t. What does ‘commissioned’ mean?” She asked.
	“I’m being paid. What do fey creatures like you do for work?”
	“We don’t,” She sounded almost smug, “Beyond a favor for a favor, we have no need for work or money. Our food is plentiful, our people are healthy, and most fey have all the fun they could ever want.”
	“What do you eat?”
	“Fruits and vegetables, mostly. The berries that grow everywhere are so vibrant and tasty! I don’t eat a lot of vegetables, though,” She chuckled, “Alderia has the best berries. They have this icy feel when you take a bite of their crisp flesh that washes over you, especially helpful in the summer. Like mint.”
	With a nod, my notation continued, “Got it, got it. How many pixies leave the fey lands? I know it's rare to see a fey, maybe very rare.”
	“Not many, and not all on purpose,” Kleeix explained, “Some stumble out or are tricked into it. Usually we send someone to find them. Fey land portals can be pretty hard to spot if you’re not looking. Maybe a few trees make a natural arch, a bush to scurry under, even a hole in the ground! We can tell on the fey lands side, because it looks so much like the forests of this world, the beautiful vibrant colors give way to lush greens, for example. In Alderia, the trees are usually blue.”
	“So it looks like our world is bleeding into yours if I’m understanding you correctly?” I asked, feverishly writing down everything she told me.
	“More or less. Maybe more like, growing out through the portal? It doesn’t go very far, Alderia is a bit too harsh for most plants on this side. It’s really cold!”
I paused a moment to think of a question for her, “So I take it you’re an Alderian pixie?”
	She smiled brightly, “You’ve hit the nail on the head.”
	“Do all Alderian pixies look like you?”
	She thought about that for a moment with a hum, “I’d say mostly, yes. Although sometimes they like to color their fuzzies like the flowers, all blue and purple and silver and such.” She answered, playing with her ‘mane'. I had no doubts now that it was a part of her.
	“One more. Is iron something that harms you? Like in the story books?” I inquired.
	Kleeix shivered, “Yes. It hurts. It poisons us. Pure iron is our biggest weakness. High fey are still effected even by these man made alloys, but lesser fey such as I can only be effected by pure iron.”
	I put my pen down, “I think I have something. Let’s go over this.”

Name: Pixie, Alderian
Type: Fey
Rarity: Very Rare
Disposition: Playful
Habitat: Northern Fey Lands
Notes: Pixies, along with their fairy brethren seem to spend their days playing, pranking and joking. Without the need to barter, they have no use for money and take whatever food they need. Giving a pixie food is a quick way to make friends with them. Although their diet is mostly vegetables and fruits, they are omnivorous and will eat meat if given it. (Or sometimes take it anyway.) Some pixies, like other races, are born with wanderlust and will adventure out into the physical world for exploration. Some also put the idea of pranks and joy aside and pick up weapons, calling themselves warriors. Combat effectiveness has yet to be seen with my own eyes.
	Alderian Pixies are covered in white or silver fluff like a mane, and adorn themselves in similar colors, as is expected of fey from the colder area of the fey wilds.  They stand from about half a foot to a foot tall. Two antennae with similar fluff stick from the top of their heads and their eyes are all black with shimmering sparkles, as if peering into the night sky.
	All fey suffer when exposed to pure iron. Alloys are seemingly fine, such as steel, but a chunk of pure, unrefined iron would harm such a creature.
	Further inquiries about how they differ from fairies and other fey is required as well as the fey lands they come from.

	“How’s that?” I asked.
	“No mention of beauty?” Kleeix huffed and folded her arms.
	“The pixie I encountered called herself Kleeix,” I began to write, “And I found her a rather fetching subject even after she ate my chicken. I gave her ice cream and she quickly became my traveling companion, calling herself a warrior and explorer. I was surprised to see that she adorned herself in leather armor decorated to look like silvery leaves. Better?”
	“Better.”
	I put my notes down and picked my chicken up. Quietly, Kleeix and I finished our meals, “We’ll be in Highrock tomorrow night,” I informed her, “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”
	Kleeix was having more ice cream, “That makes one of us.”
	I frowned, “What do you mean?”
	“While I don’t know what to expect, I’ve learned to just roll with it in my many years of travel. I think you should try that too. Go wherever adventure takes you, and find what you need there before moving on. Not all who wander are lost, afterall.”
	I was silent for a time as I finished my food, considering her words. 
	The pixie yawned and fluttered off my shoulder. She went to her pack and unstrapped a bedroll from it. A few tiny feathers fell off of it, “We can talk more tomorrow, Reece the author. Good night.”
	“Yeah. Good night,” I discarded the trash and put away the last of the ice cream before turning the overhead lights off and crawling into bed.
	Kleeix’s silvery glow dimmed as the fey quickly fell asleep. I found myself thinking late into the night, unable to sleep. I had met my first subject in only two days. A pixie no less. I had no recollection if that was a good or bad sign in certain more superstitious groups. She seemed happy with the description I had written, thankfully. I prayed my future encounters would be just as pleasant, but I knew with orcs and goblins at the least, I would have a difficult time. As for Keelix, would this fey woman actually stay with me? Were we really pals after such a simple exchange? Was this all a big trick with a huge payoff for her? I hadn’t been exposed to these other cultures yet, but I hoped I would learn more and hoped my worries were baseless.