Mar 26

Mar 26 Ecology of a Pixie

I had been working in the forest for the better part of two days before I finally saw the creature. I had just cleared the last of the hunter’s traps that had been placed in this small section of the Myr Woods. They had been illegally set by unscrupulous men, interested in the pelts of the woodland creatures who lived here and willing to slaughter as many as they could all in the name of gold.

I felt that I was being watched, but did my best to ignore it. As I settled down at my makeshift camp the first evening, I realized my shoelaces tied together as I got up to extinguish the campfire, and proceeded to fall flat on my face. When I awoke in the morning, my hair was completely covered in brambles and had suddenly turned a bright shade of pink. The brambles were painless but quite annoying to get out, so I decided to let them remain, giving me a bit of a crazy look.

The day was long, and occasionally I heard a burst of light laughter around me. Once or twice I was able to catch a small dancing light out of the corner of my eye, but I remained focused on the task at hand. It was dusk when I was finishing up with the final snare of the day, and I accidentally set it off, the small set of spikes going straight through my hand. I grimaced in pain and heard an audible gasp from behind me. I turned as I pried the trap from my now bleeding hand and saw a small creature, its hands covering its mouth and eyes wide. It made no effort to run away. In fact, it cautiously moved toward me with a look of concern.

I knew at once that my suspicions were right, and I had, in fact, been the victim of the childish pranks of a pixie. It had female features, had exquisite wings, and stood approximately two feet tall. The creature was dressed in a white gown adorned with tiny bright stones, and a tiara made of bright purple and orange flowers, held together with a dark green moss, sat atop its head. It had the delicate features common with the creatures of the Feywild and look almost like a miniature elf. (1) It was quite the outfit, making my worn leathers, dirty face, and bramble-filled pink hair feel decidedly lower class.

“Are you…ok?” it said in Sylvian.

“Quite alright,” I said as I wrapped the bandage around my still bleeding hand. “I suppose I have you to thank for this?” I said, pointing to my hair. It giggled quite loudly, all concern for my injury gone, amused by its own prank. (2)

“Why yes, and I must say you look lovely. Pink is definitely your color.” She giggled at her own joke again. “Name’s Wren. Wren Willowlake. A pleasure to finally meet you.” she said as she sat down upon a small moss-covered next to me.

“Likewise,” I said, tying the bandage into a knot as I finished wrapping my hand. “My name is Taurlian, but my friends call me Tau. Are you alone, or are there others with you?”

“I am by myself now,” she said, staring at me with a mischievous grin on her face. “My friends have gone home, called back by the Summer Queen herself! (3) I was enjoying playing with you too much to head back quite yet.”

“So we were playing? It seemed awfully one-sided.”

“Well, you were such a good sport. I figured we were playing together. I wasn’t wrong, was I?” she asked.

I sighed, allowing myself a wry smile. “I guess not. Tell me, what were you doing here in this forest, other than making my hair look fabulous.”

“Nothing in particular,” breaking eye contact to stare at the sky above. I knew she was lying but decided to let it go. It’s not often one gets to talk to a pixie. (4) “So how long have you been hiding in the forest, watching me?”

“Oh, I don’t need to hide. I may have been right next to you at certain points, but there was no way you’d see me,” she said. “It is always my choice whether I want someone to see me. (5) Mortals can be tricky creatures to read, and sometimes they do not appreciate my playful nature. Some can even be downright mean. Those that think they have mastered the powers of the arcane have this annoying tendency to summon us at the most inconvenient times.”

“Summon you?” I asked. “Why would someone summon you to play tricks on them?”

“Not to play tricks, silly. They always seem to want us to change them into a T-Rex whenever they get into a fight,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “It’s not so much being summoned against our will, but the complete lack of creativity that irks me.” (6)

As I pondered what being transformed into a dinosaur would be like, Wren continued talking. She jumped from topic to topic, talking so rapidly it was hard to keep up at times. I listened to her tell me all about the wonders of the Feywild and the fantastic creatures that lived there. She listed her top ten favorite pranks, many of which ended with an upset goblin or thoroughly embarrassed dwarf. I set about making camp for the night, enjoying the sound of her voice. I realized I had been alone in the woods for quite a while, and having someone to talk to was a pleasant change. Even if that someone was doing all the talking. She continued on.

“Years ago, some pixies would carry weapons, which I always thought was a bit silly,” Wren said, not without some contempt in her voice. “All I need is my dust. With it I can fly, create illusions, control a bit of nature, and course polymorph. Why do I need a sword weighing me down?” (7)

“Seems silly to me,” I said honestly, although I couldn’t imagine not having my sword at my side. “So Wren, what is your favorite thing about being a pixie?” I asked as I finished lighting the campfire and turned to face her.

But before I could see that she was gone, I felt my entire body begin to change. Within a matter of seconds, it occurred to me that I had been transformed. I had become a hulking creature with a massive jaw and tiny little arms. I was a tyrannosaurus rex! The change lasted for only a minute or so, but in that time, I managed to destroy my campsite, clumsy stopping around in my new form. As I changed back, glad to be myself again, I heard a giggle from the forest.

“My favorite thing about being a pixie? The pranks, of course!”

Pixies are usually described as diminutive elves with gossamer wings like those of dragonflies or butterflies (Monster Manual 2014 ). This does not mean that they are elves and probably find the stereotypical stoic elf to be a bore.
Pixies are tiny tricksters. They study the visitors at a distance to gauge their temperament and play harmless tricks on them to measure their reactions… If the visitors are good-natured, the pixies are likely to be emboldened and more friendly.
Pixies obediently serve the Court of Stars and obey the commands of its leaders. They divide themselves into orders that revere their own rulers. Some serve the Summer Queen, others the Prince of Frost. (Heroes of the Feywild, 2011)
While incredibly curious and playful creatures, pixies are timid.
5th Edition pixies have the superior invisibility trait, able to turn invisible until their concentration ends magically. It has been said that a pixie’s wings can be crushed into dust of disappearance, but pixies frown upon this practice. (Monstrous Manual, 1993)
It is technically legal to summon a pixie and have them use the polymorph spell to change you into a T-Rex.
Pixies in the earlier editions would carry weapons they would use in combat. For example, the 3.5e Pixie would carry longswords and longbows, even employing magical arrows that would cause no damage but result in the target losing their memory or being put to sleep. (Monster Manual, 2003)

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