Stranded on The Southern Continent

A thick mist hung low to the ground.

None of our trio were in the mood for conversation –instead we listened to the birds, insects and the sounds of our own footsteps. Windthrow’s were barely audible as he led our motley crew. My own were slightly heavier –that’s just how it is with talons. I’d need to be on all fours to make less noise.

Last, and certainly least, was the reason for the absolutely rancid vibes. The great inflictor of sexual frustration, Lec! He stumbled over every root, stepped in every puddle, and –despite being a gnome– managed to walk into low hanging branches!

He panted heavily. Calling to us from behind, “I’ve apologized! I did not mean to interrupt your coupling!”

Windthrow didn’t turn around, pushing a hand through his platinum blond hair.

“Not angry, Lec. Hurry up and we’ll get to Strive before nightfall,” he said.

The flat tone, lack of eye contact, and the hair thing –he wasn’t angry, he was pissed!

Windthrow had been a gentleman back in Six Dice, focusing on my first time (as a woman) over the edge. Which left him a little “backed up”. Then he’d waited patiently, and seemed ready to accept my “gift” last night. Only for Lec to barge in at the last second!

Probably not fair to blame it on Lec, clearly this was my fault, as Windthrow’s mate.

I felt a tug on my tail.

“I’ve told you, Lec, don’t do that! If you want to get my attention, tug on my cloak or something!” I slowed my pace to walk beside him. “So– what do you want?”

Lec’s beady eyes, enlarged by his spectacles, roved over my body. He’d done the impossible. Made me consider wearing more than just my cloak and wraps!

“How can I get him to accept my apology, Miss Vylet?”

I sighed, absent mindedly reaching beneath my cloak to itch the molting scales on my back. “Give it time.”

“I see.” Lec got caught in a small thorny shrub, almost falling forward. “I have been meaning to ask you, Miss Vylet. During your…romantic interaction. The way you used your tail was quite intriguing. Have you ever thought about–”

“We’re not good enough friends to talk about that!” I flashed my claws and gave him my meanest glare.

This was meant to be intimidating. But his pale face turned bright red, and –not so subtly– his eyes wandered down to my chest.

I turned, covering myself with my cloak. “Can you not be weird, for like a second…”

Dammit. I’ll get these wraps remade in Strive; I’m starting to overflow a bit. And my damn back scales are so itchy!

I fell back in line behind Windthrow –more aware now of not giving Lec a free show.

---

Towering trees and treacherous underbrush gradually transformed into flowering fields and swaying grass. And those faded into farms of multicolored grains and newly planted orchards.

People –Elves, Orcs, Dragonborn, Harengon, Tabaxi– waved at us from the fields, shouting friendly greetings. It wasn’t long before we joined a rudimentary dirt path. Alongside the road, a young goblin and a pretty orc woman were working on installing a sign. They wished us “good afternoon” as we paused to take a look. Welcome Free Peoples to the Town of Strive.

The scale of this place was much grander than either Sapwood or Six Dice. We’d thought the farmland was the town, but it was only the far flung outskirts!

About a dozen children ran alongside us as we arrived –a group as diverse as the farmers that’d greeted us.

“Where are you from!?”

“Are you here to join the Warriors or Rangers?”

“My mama is part of the Weavers Guild!”

And of course, directed at me: “What are you?”

A volunteer guard –attracted by the commotion– shooed the kids away and asked our business in Strive.

“We’re here for the Federation meeting, is there somewhere we can stay for the next two weeks?” Windthrow said, offering a respectful bow.

The guard, a female sea elf, lit up. “Of course! We’ve had many travelers from across the Weald visiting us, let me give you a tour!”

We trailed behind, as she led us to the center of town.

This place was amazing! Not only was it home to a huge array of species, but was also full of an incredible variety of styles and cultures. Tabaxi lived in makeshift treehouses, looking down at us as they sipped steaming coffee. Nearby dwarves had dug out Shire-style homes under small hillocks. Other residents lived in traditional log cabins, or in larger group dormitories.

The whole town radiated from a large central square, paved with gleaming white brick. Crowds of residents hawked goods, enjoyed meals, played ball games, and dozed under fabric sun shades.

Half of this central square backed onto a small lake. Looking across the placid waters, I saw that buildings ringed the entirety of the lake. Each, like the rest of Strive, were built in distinctive styles. But they all shared wide open patios and balconies from which townspeople could enjoy the fresh air and serene views. The vibe very much reminded me of Rivendale from Lord of the Rings.

A lifeblood, a pulse and energy that only existed in larger cities, ran through this place. We accepted greetings from almost everyone who crossed our path. Our friendly sea elf guard led us to the middle of the square.

“This is the center of Strive, our pride and joy!” The guard exclaimed, outstretching their arms.

“From here you can see most of the guilds and syndicates!” They pointed out two colorful timber buildings, with an adjacent training ground where armed men and women struck wooden dummies. “That’s the Rangers Guild and the Warriors Guild. They share that training space.”

“Then there’s the Weavers, Bookmakers, Smiths, Herbalists”–they counted off their fingers until they ran out of digits, then kept going–”Painters, Carpenters, Fletching, oh and just off the central square are the Pottery syndicates…”

“I think we understand! If we need a specific guild, we’ll ask around!” I interrupted.

She laughed and cleared her throat. “Ah, my apologies!”

“I should mention that if you want food there’s a wide range of establishments around town! And the largest kitchen serves meals right here, on the square, at sunrise and sunset.”

“We don’t have any money…” I started.

The guard looked at me blankly. “Neither do we! As long as you don’t have a bad reputation, no one will withhold anything from you.”

So, it was just like Sapwood. They’d scaled up the same ideas in Strive. And things looked to be going pretty smoothly.

“Now, before I show you your lodgings, can I ask what town you represent? I’ll need to pass on that information to the organizers of the Federation meeting,” the guard said.

I looked to Windthrow, expecting him to answer. He was silent. Some of the color had drained from his face. He swayed slightly, as if the mildest breeze could knock him over.

“Sapwood Village, in the Eastern Weald, across the river.” I answered.

The guard nodded. “And with that, follow me! I can show you where you’ll be staying.”

We left the crowded square. Windthrow gradually began to look more steady. Some of his complexion returned.

The guard led us via a lakeside path to a wooden hut, perched on a gravel beach. It boasted a large shaded patio, with a table and chairs, arched windows covered with wooden shutters, and a bright yellow front door. Inside she showed us a simple bedroom containing a twin bed, covered by a fine mesh net. In the corner was a large carved basin –for us to clean ourselves.

“If there’s nothing else, I hope you enjoy your two weeks in our town.” She turned to leave, before snapping her fingers, and turning to face us once again. “Oh and don’t forget, at the start of each week, after breakfast, we assign the ‘rotational’ jobs. Cleaning latrines, sweeping the square, litter pickup, that sort of thing. Technically, not mandatory, but if you want to have a nice time in our town you’ll want to participate."

I shrugged. “Of course, Sapwood had something similar. Thanks for your generous tour.”

The moment the door was shut, Windthrow collapsed onto the bed with a thud.

I kneeled beside him, and stroked his silky hair. “You okay?”

“Feeling…a bit ill. Let me rest, for just a moment,” he muttered.

Since he looked in desperate need of a rest, I decided to explore the town on my own.

Just outside, a cadre of tabaxi children were splashing in the lake, looking like a bunch of wet cats. They waved to me as I looked over from our patio. Not waiting to see if I waved back, they went right back to playing.

On the shore people lounged and chatted, some sipping wine. A family washed their clothes in the water –all three laughing and smiling. Following the lakeside path, I saw much of the same –townspeople enjoying their evening.

While back in the square, the activity didn’t show signs of slowing. People sat on the ground as a half-elven woman wrote on a primitive blackboard. She was teaching the Common language –I’d have to join in during our stay. Elsewhere, people erupted in hysterics as a brightly dressed dragonborn performed some sort of silent routine. She’d pretend that an invisible horde of tiny enemies were swarming her, frantically twisting and rolling to get them off.

The sounds of drums echoed across Strive –mingling with the rhythmic twang of target practice at the Rangers guild.

Everyone was out and about, taking part in dozens of different activities. I could approach any group and freely join in. It wouldn’t be weird! Okay, sure, some people were staring at me. But, a scaled lizard woman with horns and a tail was new. To apparently everyone. Word would spread and they’d get used to me in no time!

A loud bell rang atop a nearby building.

“Dinner! Dinner! Forest greens, mushrooms, with a side of roasted meat. Courtesy of the Rangers Guild!”

Muscular orcs rolled out hulking wooden bowls, containing tons of various greens, with somewhat suspicious purple mushrooms mixed in. Not exactly my tempo. But then my nose caught the scent of meat –huge heaping trays of meat!

Everyone formed an orderly line. Despite my ravenous appetite, I joined them. Windthrow would be so proud of me!

When I returned to my lodgings –with a plate of food for myself and one for Windthrow– my mate was lounging on the patio. Two glasses of dark red wine sat on the table in front of him. He flashed that ever brilliant smile as I approached –its radiance only rivaled by his platinum hair.

“How you feeling Windthrow” I asked, pulling up a chair across from him.

“Much better, sorry for how I acted earlier.” He gazed across the water, taking a short sip of wine.

I started on the salad…which was not to my taste. Like does eating this even do anything for a body like mine?

“Hmmm, are you sure?” A sip of the wine. A little sour, but with a vibrant fruity edge. “If you’d like, wanna tell me what happened? I am your mate after all.”

He sputtered. Almost spitting out a mouthful of wine. “Oh, I’m your what? I thought that wasn’t you, just your instincts?”

Windthrow…had a point. When had I accepted that he was my mate? And what does that mean anyway? That I’m his girlfriend, without the commitment?

I laughed awkwardly, rhythmically tapping my claws on the table. “Just a turn of phrase!”

“We’ve done certain activities together, but I don’t believe we’ve mated.” He leaned across the table. “Although, if that idiot Lec didn’t interfere, perhaps you could call me that.”

Wait a second…

“Where did Lec go?!” I looked around the patio, and peered across the beach, as if he’d just been hiding for the last few hours.

Windthrow shrugged. “He came into town with us, and then sort of wandered off. You worry too much Vylet. He’s an adult and we got him where he needed to go.”

“I guess, it's just…” I relaxed back into my chair. “Wait, don’t change the subject! What happened earlier?”

He took a long sip of wine, finishing the glass in a single swig.

“It was strange. We got into the square, and my heart started racing. My chest tightened. It was like the world was spinning.”

“And you felt sick to your stomach? And your ears were ringing like someone struck a bell right beside them?” I added.

His eyes widened, looking like two vibrant lily pads. “How’d you know?”

“I used to feel like that around lots of people too.” I stroked his ankle with my tail.

“How’d you get over it?” He avoided eye contact.

“That’s a tough one.”

In reality, I came to a different world. Lost my male body (Thank god!). Became a species that’s deeply influenced by ingrained instincts. And Voilà, much less social anxiety! But I couldn’t tell him that!

I nervously flicked my tongue around my fangs. “It takes time, you have to be gentle with yourself.”

He nodded gravely. As if I’d given him actionable advice. I’m sorry Windthrow! I never solved this one either!

The rest of dinner was relaxing. We watched the sunset over the lake, reflecting fiery orange hues across Strive. Only downside of the evening? The meat. Seasoned nicely, but way overdone. How could people eat this, when it wasn’t nice and bloody?

We retired early. Listening to the crickets and the gentle ebb of the lake, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

---

When I saw what type of village Strive was –charming, vibrant, safe, and friendly– I’d started imagining our two weeks here as a very unofficial “honeymoon”. Good food, good company, having fun and relaxing. Alternating between wild loud sex and romantic gentle sex every night. The reality was much different.

Windthrow and I gathered the next morning in the central square, where the weekly “rotational” jobs were assigned. Of course literally everyone was here; it was a struggle to find a spot where we could see.

We lucked out, being assigned none of the rotational jobs that week. But the damage was done. Windthrow skipped breakfast, and volunteered to go hunting with some Rangers for the entire day.

That first day I practiced guitar sitting by the lake. Slowly getting the hang of this 3-fingered picking style. The noises I was making couldn’t be described as “music” yet, but at least the neighbors hadn’t told me to shut up!

Later that night, Windthrow joined me in bed when I’d already started dozing among the soft blankets.

The rest of the week followed that pattern. Windthrow hunting, me left on my own. All the while the stubborn molting scales on my back kept bothering me.

I did learn a lot about Strive though!

The town was “governed” by the local guilds and syndicates. Almost the entire town was part of a syndicate or a guild. Sometimes multiple! Whatever economy there was, seemed to be based on mutual aid. And while most things were shared, everyone was relatively satisfied.

And to my initial horror, Lancet was right. Love seemed to be very much free in Strive. Men with Men, Women with Women, duos, trios, and probably other arrangements! Then there was the family dynamics. While, of course, children lived with their parents, everyone looked out for the kids, whether they were related or not.

I fell into my own routine. While the morning chill still hung over the village –townspeople feeling either lazy, or energetic from breakfast– I’d sit in on the first class of the day. Rows of kids, of every race, sitting criss cross apple sauce, were taught their letters by Miss Guiny. Then me, towering over them in the back, like a bodacious fantasy godzilla.

When night came I’d join the adults, sipping wine and munching on biscuits, to learn my letters in a more sophisticated environment. Still with Miss Guiny though…a dragonborn that was only rivaled by Cleyre in her voluptuous curves.

---

On the last night of the week, the twin moons cast the world in a purplish haze. Reflecting off the water like neon lights from some gaudy city. One from my old world. But nights like these could only be experienced on the Southern Continent.

My every step clattered, as my talons dug into the gravel beach. I held my cherry wood guitar. Tonight, I felt like practicing in the central square. The bustle, the activity, the heartbeat of Strive…I’d grown to love it.

I picked a nice spot near the lake, where I could revel in the cool breeze, but still be part of the activity. In this perfect spot, by the light of the moons, I worked on a song from my old world.

The notes drifted around the square –seamlessly blending with the tempo of Strive. Sometimes my claw would slip, creating a discordant interruption, but not so often anymore.

The breeze as it played across my scales, the otherworldly light, and a belly full of roasted meat –it combined to lull me into a comfortable daze.

“Does it have words?” A young sounding voice asked.

I startled, strumming every string, and opened my eyes.

Around me were about 6 people. A chocolate furred Tabaxi smiled lazily at me, sitting only a foot away. Behind them were an assortment of other townspeople, who’d started watching my apparent performance.

“This one is sorry! Please continue!” the tabaxi said.

“It has words, but I’m no good at singing, and it’s not my song and–”

“This one thinks you can’t be so bad, why not try?” they responded.

“Okay, but be nice…” I cleared my throat.

I know that it is freezing but I think we have to walk~♩

My claws clumsily danced across the strings. But they hit the right notes, sometimes at the right time too! At least with this guitar even my clumsy playing sounded warm and clear.

I keep waving at the taxis they keep turning their lights off~♩

Was that my voice? Couldn’t be. My singing voice wasn’t so silvery. So high. It wasn’t so bright.

My audience was swaying –more had started watching.

But Julie knows a party at some actor’s West Side loft~♩

The world was becoming fuzzy and smeared around me…was I crying?

One final note echoed across the square as my voice trailed off.

The members of my “audience” softly applauded. And as I fielded a few compliments, I noticed an unexpected, attractive (not to mention, attentive, kind, smart, creative, and beautiful) set of eyes watching. Windthrow!

He didn’t have a second to greet me before I jumped into his arms.

“You’re back early!” I exclaimed, wiping tears from my scales.

“We caught a large boar early on in the day and”–he put a hand around my waist–“Never mind that! I had no idea you were so talented, or that you could sing!”

“Ah. I’ve been practicing–” Windthrow pulled me into a kiss, practically devouring me like a starving animal.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me from the crowd.

“I see you’re feeling better! Where you taking me?”

The left side of Windthrow’s face was illuminated by the moons. His hand felt hot against my wrist.

“Back to our lodgings. I think we’re both pretty tired, right Vy?”

As we walked, I pushed myself against him, resting my head on his chest. “Eheheh, I don’t know, it's still early.”

Windthrow took his hand from my wrist and started rubbing my back, just above the base of my tail. I cooed. A shiver of pleasure ran across my body.

How’d he learn about that spot –no fair.

Windthrow flung open the door to our love nest, and playfully pushed me into the darkened interior.

Map of the Journey so Far: