Chapter 32 – The Forest Federation!
I hummed to myself, my legs kicking up and down on the bed. Certain things about being a lizard girl took getting used to, not accidentally tearing up mattresses was one of them. But to be fair, there are essentially knives on my feet! So this time, I would be more careful, especially after we’d been assigned such a nice tent. A bright orange one–big enough for two. Midday sun filtered through the dark orange fabric, painting the interior in dreamy hues.
The entrance flap was pulled aside and my mate strolled in. He held a clay jug of water in one hand and a basket of vibrant fruit in the other.
“I’m back! How was your nap, Vy?” Windthrow said cheerfully.
I rolled onto my back. “It was very very needed!”
“Glad you slept well, it was an eventful trip up here for both of us.”
He smiled shyly, placing the jug and fruit on a table by the entrance.
”And lunch is served! Eat up. We'll need our energy.”
Flexing my abs, I rolled to my feet. Windthrow quickly averted his eyes, still holding the entrance shut.
Oh yeah, I’m naked.
We’d made love and mutually confessed! But he was still so bashful! Some people frowned upon that in my old world, huh? Losing my virginity, before officially being a “thing”...ah doesn't matter! From across the tent, I walked towards Wind. Subtly swaying my hips, in sync with my tail, giving my most sultry smile.
“Hmm, what’s wrong Windthrow?” I impaled a red fruit with my claw, taking a big bite.
The juice dripped from my mouth, over the curve of my breasts and down my toned body. With my long tongue, I lapped up the sticky juice on my chest.
“Ah, looks like I made a mess,” I purred.
“Vylet, please…” He took a drawn out breath. ”Not when we’ll be at the Federation meeting all day.”
“Aww okay~” I stood on the tips of my talons and pecked Windthrow on the lips.
“Is it my fault if my mate can’t control himself?”
He scooped me up, holding me with my buttocks against his forearm.
“You're so naughty! How about this– when we’re done with our duty to Sapwood, I'll give into my desires. Would that satisfy you?”
I squirmed ineffectively in his powerful arms. “Yeah, I would like that,” I whispered.
Did he know the smallest taste of his strength made my mind fuzzy and desperate for him? Windthrow placed me on the ground, playfully tapping my backside.
“Good girl. Now get dressed, I won't let anyone else enjoy this view.”
My mate gripped my wrist while we waited in line.
Ahead of us was Waypoint Fort, the site of the Federation meeting. An old Imperial ruin. With its huge stone arches, it looked more like a coliseum than a fort. The sun hung low in the sky, casting the long line to get inside in deep shadows. Around us was a sea of colorful tents, including our little orange love nest. Dozens of black and green flags stuck up from the encampments–hand dyed, imprecise and so hopeful.
Each person in line was checked and disarmed by two bulky Goliath guards. It seemed not all outside the Weald were thrilled about our new nation. This world had dedicated haters just like my old one.
Crowds pushed in on all sides. Windthrow moved closer to me, his breath heavy and frantic.
“Are you doing okay?” I asked.
“It’s the evening– I’m only a little cold,” he said, his voice quivering.
If we were in Strive, people would be eating dinner outside or swimming in the lake. And many of our comrades in line were dressed very lightly, including myself! In simpler terms, he was trying to save face.
I pried myself from Wind’s nervous death grip. For an agonizing moment, he looked at me with a stricken expression. My heart ached for him!
I gripped the hem of my green-gold cloak, pulling it around us. My body pressed against Windthrow.
“We’re okay. It’ll seem less busy once we’re inside,” I whispered.
“Vylet, I said I’m–”
“Shh, it’s okay. Take deep breaths, we’re close to the front.”
His shoulders rose and fell. Slowly, the color returned to his cheeks. When the guards finally gestured for us, he seemed much calmer.
“What syndicate, town, village, or guild do yous represent?”
The Goliath guard wore rusted chain mail, a gleaming sword was strapped to his back. He eyed us suspiciously. Windthrow stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“I’m Windthrow Zerzan and this is Vylet. We’re representatives from Sapwood Village, in the western Weald.”
The other guard wore spectacles, comically small for his face. He took fervent notes and nodded.
“Looks like yous are expected. You’ll have to temporarily hand over all bows, blades”–he peered down at me–”And spears.”
It felt like surrendering my child, friend, and most useful tool. All in one! I whispered a silent apology before giving them Tanglewood. Without my old friend, I felt practically naked–considering my usual attire, it was a very uncomfy feeling! We were waved inside.
Our steps echoed as we entered the hall. Despite being lit by dozens of torches, the black stone made the place feel dark. At the far side of the room were steps upwards, between two tables–maybe some sort of front desks. The day's last sunlight spilled down the stairs.
“Go on up,” one of the Goliath guards barked. I almost jumped outta my scales!
“This place is weird,” I said.
Windthrow was tense, despite the room being safe. “Yes, the Imperials weren’t known for their welcoming structures. This was not a simple fort. They used it for blood sports.”
“For…gladiators fighting stuff?” I asked.
He nodded. “One of the human hobbies. Of course, they never dared to fight themselves. Many people. Slaves. Are likely to have died here.”
The light and clamor became louder the higher we climbed. Windthrow muttered under his breath, “Such cruel violent creatures.”
Then we were in the light, and holy shit, did the vibe shift. We were back in the celebratory atmosphere that accompanied our trip here, minus the booze. And public displays of affection.
This was a coliseum, roman style. But built with dark brick, instead of washed out sandstone. Rows and rows of stone benches spiraled downwards, towards the center. Each was packed with people, of all species. The Harengon, with their fluffy ears. The Goliaths, felt bad for whoever had to sit behind them. Then the rest: Elves, Halflings, Half-Elfs, Orcs, Gnomes and Tabaxi. And a few Dragonborn, or as I used to call them, fellow scale-havers!
The really interesting part was that we weren’t divided by “species”, but by profession and geography! Small banners marked the delegations from the different Weald towns, including Six Dice and Strive. Rows were reserved for tons of different syndicates, including tailors, blacksmiths, armorers, druids, and herbalists. And so many more. Our nation would have a truly spectacular amount of talent!
I found the Sapwood Village banner, where our seats were. Luckily, we ended up near the back. I only had to say “Excuse me” and “Sorry!” a dozen times as we made our way over.
At the center of the arena was a large white marble table, surrounded by several chairs. Those were the seats for the largest and most important delegations. Lancet was there, sipping wine with her usual scowl. Of course Delemin was down there too, representing the Warriors Guild. He let out a huge belly laugh, and slapped the back of the Farmers Guild delegate–an old Dwarven man with a wide straw hat.
A few minutes after we took our seats, an old elf stood up from one of the closest rows. He wore a ragged robe, colored like pine tree bark. His eyes were pale and cloudy. If not for the gnarled staff he held, it appeared like a slight breeze could topple him over. He shuffled to the center of the coliseum.
The jovial atmosphere quieted. Finally, the man stood beside one of the empty stone chairs.
He held the end of the staff next to his mouth, muttering something under his breath. A subtle blue luminescence surrounded the staff.
“Welcome, my friends. Some of you may not know who I am. My name is Proudhon. I was a slave, like all of you. Nothing more.”
The old elf's voice was raspy and strained, but through the magic of his staff it echoed around the entire building.
Windthrow leaned over and whispered, “Proudhon spoke for those of us that didn’t want to serve the dragon, Hearthtooth. He inspired us to come to the Weald.”
“–that’s what led to us coming here. To the Emel Weald,” Proudhon paused, looking at the other representatives around the table.
Suddenly, he slammed his staff against the marble table. A shower of sparks erupted upwards, causing a collective gasp from all of us!
“Now! I was against the notion of forming a nation. But given the threats we face, it may be our only chance at survival!”
His voice was not that of an elderly elf anymore. I saw why he commanded so much respect.
“Are you willing to put your neighbor above yourself? To offer aid to the outcast? To share instead of hoard? And to tear down all who would seek to oppress you or your neighbors?”
We erupted into cheers, climbing to our feet. The Dragonborn and Goliath lifted up the smaller species, ensuring that they could still see.
“Can you give up borrowed power, once it has served its purpose? In the interest of all of us in the Emel Weald?”
The wild cheers continued to escalate. Windthrow and I clung to each other as the whole fort shook down to its foundations. He slammed his staff onto the table again. Once, twice, three times! “Silence! Silence! Silence!”
A hush fell over us. Like we were all one organism, enraptured in this momentous moment.
“Before we decide. I must let us know of other paths we may take. That is my duty.”
Proudhon pointed his staff into the stands. “The representatives from the People’s Republic of Portalis will speak.”
Two people walked down. A small and thin Dragonborn woman in dark armor. Her scales were snow white. Following behind, was an equally pale male Dragonborn in full plate armor, including an ominous full helm. He carried a great sword–the only weapon visible amongst the spectators.
The world tilted on its axis–sudden vertigo threatened to topple me. Only with Windthrow’s help did I stay standing. These were the Draciar twins! The psychos that almost killed us in Tangle village!
One of the seats in the center was intended for them, but they decided on a different approach. Both jumped atop the table, to the immediate dismay of the other representatives.
“Greetings valued forest peasants! My name is Vertka Draciar”–she gestured to her brother–”And that is Vormath Draciar!”
Vertka opted to shout instead of using magical amplification.
“We've had a good time here. Learning about all your cherished…values. But the time has come to be realistic. To grow up.” Her voice projected supreme confidence.
“Your cherished freedom. Was a gift achieved through the help of the Usurper Wyrm.” A chorus of boos, but Proudhon signaled for us to quiet. She continued, “The Usurper Wyrm arrived to usurp this world's corrupt order, as they have done countless times before.”
Vertka, flicked her wrist. Her brother kneeled down and she stepped atop his shoulders. A bizarre way to gain a couple extra feet of height...
“The Wyrm will build utopia on this world. Starting with The People’s Republic of Portalis. Your choice, the only one. Is if you will join now, peacefully.” She looked at the spectators. “Or later…through other means.”
Rage washed over the crowd. I wanted to go down there, and wipe that wicked grin off her face. My talons dug into the ground–if I cast jump now I could be upon her in moments–
“Vylet. Keep yourself in check. Calm down,” Windthrow shouted over the clamor.
He grabbed my waist. Insurance against me doing something stupid.
“It seems the people have given their answer, we will build our own home here,” Proudhon shouted, channeling our anger. “Now please leave, after today you are not welcome in the Weald.”
Vertka curtsied, before prancing off her brother’s shoulders. Their composure didn’t break despite the shouts and threats. They left unharmed.
“Apologies. One more representative must speak.” Proudhon pointed to the other side of the fort.
My eyes darted around, trying to find the next speaker. I spotted a well dressed Gnome as he descended the stairs. He wore thick spectacles and was quite young. Wait! That’s Lec! How could that be the same person that drew lewd art of me!? But it was really him.
He sat in one of the empty chairs. Proudhon gave him his staff. Clearly, Lec wasn’t up to shouting like Vertka!
“My name is Lecla Kinbee. I represent the Allied Republic of Administer Constituents.” He spoke with smooth confidence. Each word was injected with a healthy dose of empathy. “I come with a message from the president of ARAC, President Hearthtooth.
Immediate jeers. Like this was a wrestling match or something! Lec waited patiently for them to stop.
“President Hearthtooth, would again, like to offer the people of the Weald the opportunity to become citizens of our great nation.”
More shouts, worse than the reaction to the Draciars. Lec’s eyes widened—I almost felt bad for him.
“Ah, I assure you– we value the principles of freedom, commerce and democracy. All managed by President Hearthtooth, who also guarantees your safety against the Usurper, in case of–” A bottle crashed against the table, scattering glass.
Lancet jumped to her feet, fury in her eyes. “Who threw that!? You know we’re down here too?!”
Proudhon, with a single gesture, calmed us down.
“What do you think, should we listen to Lec and his President Hearthtooth?” he shouted.
“Nooooo!” we responded in chorus.
“I apologize Mr. Lec. We’ll have to decline.”
He took back his staff.
“I think we have decided, my friends!” Proudhon climbed atop the table, showing remarkable strength for how old he appeared.
“Let this be the start of our shared nation and home. The Forest Federation!”
My heart was still racing with excitement as I left. Cheers still carried from inside. It was like leaving a party or a concert, when your ears wouldn't stop ringing. I had to get used to silence again.
Windthrow was still there. He needed to speak with the Hunters Guild members. I also sensed that he wanted to make an effort to face up to his anxiety–gods I loved that man. Tomorrow would be much of the same. Boring details and wild celebrations. Figuring out how to defend our home. You know, little unimportant things!
With my rucksack and Tanglewood (luckily the guards hadn't lost it!), I walked to the edge of the encampment. Then a bit further. There was something I needed to do.
After a short search, I found a nice spot. A quiet grove, with a big ol' boulder! Close enough for me to see the fire light from camp filtering through the trees. I sat atop the boulder, stretching my claws to the night sky and basking in the glow from the twin moons.
There was a friend that I hadn’t updated for awhile. I rustled around in my bag, feeling for their smooth surface.
Telar. The first person I met on the Southern Continent. A victim of imperial experimentation, their soul was imprisoned in a crystal. After saving me from a giant octopus so long ago, they’d gone quiet.
I focused on the gray crystal—as if I could bring it to life through sheer force of will. If I could just hear Telar's voice again, all would be right in my little world.
“Hey Telar. Sorry, it’s been a stupid long time. If you could say something, anything, I'd be really happy.”
No response. I sighed. Welp no harm in continuing.
“So much has happened since you left. I found someone, and– I love them. Guess what? They actually love me back. One day you’ll meet them–”
Suddenly, the arid scent of metal and oil drifted over. Two figures emerged out of the darkness. One was small, the other was a brute in armor.
The smaller one clapped their hands, slowly and deliberately.
“Awww, so emotional! Never thought I'd catch you talking to a rock. We have much to discuss, Vylet.” Vertka said, her voice dripping with venom.