At the same time,

150 some leagues to the Northeast, near the peak of the Lesser Eastern Spine

I was standing in a circle of standing stones that my people have used for ritual magic for centuries, sweat drenching my greenish brow, saying the final words to my summoning ritual. Everything was aligned with utmost precision with the mana field of Patria. As I said the last word to the ritual, something changed. I gasped in horror as instead of the minor impling I had been attempting to summon, a full blown imp had shown up. The warding circle was definitely not strong enough to deal with the likes of it. I had only time for a quick inhale, before its claws shredded the warding circle and then in the next moment, my throat. As I collapsed to the ground choking on the blood dripping from my throat, I had time to notice that I broke my right tusk when I hit the ground, then I knew no more.

At the same time,

85 some leagues Southwest, in the foothills of La Espina Dorsal Del Mundo

I was in my rooftop workshop working under the soft light of Tia and Tio. According to the lit marked candle I had to one side of my current project it was almost the end of the midnight mark. I was in the final stages of aligning my latest attempt at creating an enchanted compass, the ability to find true north by way of the mana field of Patria will be a major boon to sailors and travelers alike when the stars are obscured. Just as I was about to note down the last measurement needed, the field shifted a fraction. I started cursing as I realized I was going to have to recalibrate the entire apparatus, and my work of the past several candle marks was wasted. After a few moments I stopped cursing, quietly muttering to myself and the local squirrels, “What caused that?” After a few more moments thought my brows furrowed as I again voiced my thoughts aloud, “Normally a dungeons opening to the surface is much noisier, is it further away?” I was going to need further experiments to see just exactly where the dungeon actually emerged. Something for the morning, it isn’t like I am getting any younger at 468 years of age and I need what sleep I can get. I reached over to the plate I had set a piece a fruit on, and saw that it was another victim of my friendly squirrels, I sighed and blew out the candle heading to my bed.

At the same time,

About 24000 li to the West across the Impassable Sea, in the land of Tien Xia

I snorted in my sleep, a small flare and puff of smoke lighting the late-night sky. I opened one eye looking east across the sea, then closed my eye after a moment, mumbling “Let the Elves deal with it.” I adjusted my wings and tail, then promptly went back to sleep on my carefully hoarded stash of gold. The sound of the waves on the shore below my eyrie, sending me to my dreams once more.

Half a candle-mark ago,

About 1450 leagues to the Southeast on a desolate island in the midst of the Eternal Ocean

I stood about 50 strides back from the beach facing the mid-morning sun, in the midst of the wards my master and I had placed 55 years prior. I was eagerly waiting for him to break free from the ground and announce the arrival of his dungeon, the first Abyssal dungeon that wasn’t in imminent danger of being hunted down and destroyed by those fearful fools. He would spread truth of the Abyss to the worthy and destroy those who are not. I felt a rumble in the ground behind me. I then turned to see his grand opening burst out into the open in the form of a Grendel's head, jaws agape. I smile and eagerly step forward into the entrance, then knelt, whilst calling out “Master, your servant has been faithful and has been awaiting your guidance.” I then heard in my mind a dark rumbling laugh, followed by my master’s voice saying, “Excellent, join me.” I looked up, smiling into the depths and see a dark pustule covered claw the size of a boar reach out and grab me. I only had a moment to think “Why?”, when the other claw reached out and crushed my skull.

Four candle-marks later, Dawn,

The outskirts of the town of Soria, 85 some leagues Southwest of James’ tuft of grass, in the foothills of La Espina Dorsal Del Mundo.

I stumbled, bleary eyed and grouchy to my door, if only to get that massively annoying mage Ramirez to stop his magical banging on my door. I slam the door open, and look out to see him turn to me with a smile on his face, about to say something to me. I couldn’t have that so I yelled at him, “What the Hades are you doing banging on my door at the crack of dawn you senile excuse of a mage !?!!?” It probably was not as vociferous as needed, but certainly more than he expected. It was obvious that Ramirez was slightly taken aback, as he coughed politely, appearing almost abashed.

After a moment he almost apologetically said to me, “Sorry about that Timoteo, I forgot the time. I need you to run this device out to the outlook, between here and Tudela. Then scratch where the arrow is pointing on the rim, here, and then bring it back to me.” To that long-winded statement, I stared, somewhat blankly at him for a long moment. Then having finally parsed his statement, asked him, in a very long-suffering tone, “and this was important at the crack of dawn because?!?” To this Ramirez blinked his eyes, almost owlishly. Then he realized he obviously hadn’t told me the most important part said, “Oh! Yes, I think there was a dungeon emergence last night, but the signature was extremely weak. I want to triangulate its position.”

That, almost, was worth waking me at the crack of dawn for, but not really. I put my hand out, and still somewhat tersely said, “Give it here. I will head out after lunch. I need more than two marks sleep. I should be back by dinner tomorrow, if I am able to borrow a horse.” Ramirez handed the device over, then sighed and replied, “Thank you Timoteo. I will have one waiting for you in front of your tree.” He turned and waved, then said as he headed to the skyway, “Sleep well, friend.” After ensuring that he had indeed left, I closed the door, somewhat more forcefully than needed. Then threw the deadbolt, turned and headed back to my bed, pausing only to deposit the device on the kitchen table. I then gratefully flopped down fully clothed onto my bed, falling asleep mere moments after my head hit the pillow.

Four additional candle-marks of sleep and I almost felt like a normal Forest Elf once again. It was about a half candle-mark before the midday mark, I had just finished a late brunch, and I was almost ready to leave on Ramirez’s errand. Another couple of things to go in my saddlebags, my bow and skinning knife and I should be good to go. I closed and locked my door and walked down the stairs from the skyway to the ground to find that Ramirez had done quite a bit better than finding me some old nag, and had provided his own horse.

He had brought the horse with him from the capital, Mondrigal, when he returned from his annual trip three years ago. Taller and built more for speed and stamina, the six cubit at the withers, pale Mondrissian mare, would serve me much better on this errand than any of the local horses. It would be almost 27 leagues to reach the outlook Ramirez wanted me to use his device at. As I mounted his mare, I mumble, “sooner, started, sooner finished.” Then I was away. Hopefully the road will be quiet, if I am undisturbed, I should reach the outlook a few candle-marks after dusk.

I was mostly fortunate, I saw a dire-bear and her cubs sunning by the road, before they saw or heard me. I was able to detour around them with only a half-candle mark delay. I am just glad that it was still daylight, otherwise my journey to the outlook would have been much more harrowing. One doesn’t generally go after a dire-bear with less than two archers and a spearman with a good sized boar spear, I have done it before, but that doesn’t mean I would welcome the opportunity to renew that experience. I set up camp just off the road at the outlook, my dinner, a hare and some readily available herbs and mushrooms.

Once sated, and my leftovers packed for the journey home, it was time to pull out the device Ramirez wanted me to use and record the readings obtained. It must have been a couple of candle-marks before the midnight mark, the campfire providing more than enough light to see the device clearly. The difficult part was ensuring that the marker was pointing steadily in one direction. I ended up placing it on the ground whilst I recorded the reading, as my hands proved to be insufficiently steady for the task.

That done, I looked up at where the marker was pointing and saw the red reflected glow of Tia’s light coming from the snows of La Cima Del Mundo. I sincerely hoped the entrance wasn’t near the top, the air is very thin up there. It is said that only the Dragons and the Sylph have ever been as high. I shook my head and as I banked my campfire for the night mumbled, as I was apparently wont to do, “no use borrowing trouble. I’ll find out after Ramirez finishes his triangulation.” A short trip to my bedroll, and I soon drifted off to sleep.

The trip back to Soria was uneventful. I even made it back a couple of candle-marks before dusk, probably the only pleasant surprise to come of this errand. I tied the horse’s reins to the pole next to the feed and water troughs in front of Ramirez’s tree, just on the south side of town. Then I made my way up to his abode, still tired from the 54 some leagues of riding over the past couple of days. My bed was calling me, however, I really wanted to get this errand over-with. Fortunately he was in, and responded to my sharp rap on his door with a slightly muffled, yet surprised, “Back already Timoteo? I knew it was the right decision to lend you Nube de Baile.” He opened the door and waved me in, saying as I passed him, “In the lab, but don’t touch anything.” I swear, you screw up one time and the old codger never forgets, sigh.

After I find a safe place to sit amongst the clutter, Ramirez comes in and pulls out what has to be a tracing of the most detailed map I have seen. Then starts to clear space for it in and amongst the detritus everywhere. Clearing my throat, I being unable to withhold my curiosity, ask more quietly than I usually do, “Where did you get the map Ramirez?” He, true to form, answered me somewhat distractedly, “I did a service for the Sylph ambassador whilst in the capital a few decades back. I received the original to this map as gratitude. Now, let’s see.”

He then placed a straight edge on the map and drew a quick line from Soria out to the edge of the continent, then after a few more moments, another line from the outlook where I had taken the reading for him. He then cleared his throat and looked up at me saying, “well, you aren’t going to like the next journey I send you on.” At that I looked up sharply at him, and then looked at the map and groaned. Somewhere on the southwestern slope of La Cima del Mundo, about 85 leagues of rough country from Soria was where the lines crossed, he was right, I was not going to like this next journey at all.

Ramirez and I had a short argument as to what to do next, but after half a candle-mark he came around to my way of thinking. We headed over to Mayor Alfonso’s office, both to inform him of the situation, and get his read on it as well. I was going to knock, but Ramirez, senile charging bull that he is, just opened the Mayor’s office door as though it was his own. Then he proclaimed, quite loudly in my estimation, “Alfonso, we might have a dungeon problem. I was wanting to have Timoteo go out and investigate.” To which, I promptly refuted, “Ramirez. Yes, we might have a dungeon problem, but it needs to be Alfonso’s decision as to who investigates it, when. Alfonso, sorry for the intrusion, but as you can hear, we appear to have a situation.”

Alfonso had looked up at us when we entered, quill still in hand, but as I wound down, he put the quill away. He then moved the papers he was working on to one side, then pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose said, “Ramirez, I assume you have more than a flight of fancy behind that statement. Show me what you have.” Ramirez started speaking as though a set of flood gates had opened, proceeding to take a half candle-mark to explain the situation in excruciating detail, whereas I probably would have done it in a couple of phrases. I wasn’t going to interrupt Ramirez and give Alfonso an excuse to be angry with me, who knows what a retired general might decide would be fitting punishment for a trifle. Ramirez pointing at the drawn lines on his traced map finally finished up with, “And here is where the triangulation indicates the dungeons emergence should be.”

Alfonso leaned back in his chair, probably grateful that Ramirez had actually finished his explanation of the situation. After a few moments thought, he took a deep breath before turning to me and saying, “Timoteo. Since you have been running all over Patria for a couple of days, we can wait until noon tomorrow before I send you out, but, I think I will send Dimitri with you. He is quite strong and should be able to help you scale any obstacles you may encounter, not to mention provide you with another set of eyes, whilst searching for the dungeon.”

I blink, and have to think for a moment, “Dimitri. That is the wolf beast-kin that moved here with his family seeking asylum, last winter, isn’t it?” To which Alfonso, replied concisely, “Indeed.” As he raised his eyebrow, about to ask me a question. I shrugged and responded, “Eh, more the merrier. I will be ready at the start of the midday mark tomorrow. I am off to dinner, a bath, and bed, in that order. Have a good evening, my good elves.” As I headed home to do those very things, I shook my head, this next errand really was going to be a pain, at least I will have someone to share the misery.

A few moments later, back in Alfonso’s office.

A good several long moments after the door closed behind Timoteo, I turned in my chair towards Ramirez and told him, ”Ramirez. Before you find your own bed, which it looks like you need almost as much as Timoteo, even if you don’t show it as much as he. I need you to send a letter to Guild master Franco at the Campanella guild branch. Despite the dungeons inconvenient location, it still needs a full evaluation, and possibly monitoring, depending on its sanity. I will discuss tomorrow’s expedition with Dimitri. Given what happened to his nephew before they came here, he should not have any objections to locating a suspicious dungeon.”

Ramirez stood, replying, “I will do so, I know how to get Franco’s attention.” He then turned to head out himself. As he opened the door, he half turned to me, and stated quietly, “For all our sakes let us hope it isn’t either an Abyssal or Blood dungeon. We would need Zeus’s spear to dig it out of there, if we don’t mobilize quickly.” I responded just as quietly, “Agreed. Try and get some sleep Ramirez.” Regardless of how the investigation turns out, it is going to be a busy season, one way or the other.