A Little Background...

"A WOMAN'S PLACE"
(a.k.a., what human women know)



Men go to school, go to war, go into politics, go into business, and sweep turds off the streets—both literally (sanitary crew) and figuratively (guardsmen).

Women lack formal education, so much so that they don't even know what lies beyond the island of Arcadia. Arcadia could be the name of the planet for all they know. And the sea is The Sea, no different than calling the sun and the moon The Sun and The Moon. But that doesn't mean women don't have career paths. A women can be a wife, a midwife, or...

...a Huntress.

That's the path taken for girls who are getting through their teens and are ambitious and have a tendency to slap drunken men in the face to establish the radius of one's "personal bubble." It's invisible. The slap helps.

Anyway, the Huntress has an important job. Like the lioness, she finds food for the pride. I mean village. But the word "pride" applies. A Huntress should be proud of her work, donning her beast hides and bone jewelry like badges of honor.

You know who considers that fashionable?

Most any Amazon...

 

"A WOMAN'S PLACE, cont'd"
(a.k.a., Amazons are human too)



Funny thing about Amazons. Some say they are goddesses. Others say they are sculpted from red earth. If a you ask an Amazon how she was born, she'll reply, "You're obviously not a wife or a midwife."

Anyway, most businessmen take advantage of women in matters of money, so Huntresses and Amazons trade goods for services, keeping each other fed, clothed, sheltered, and entertained—there's always a place at Queen Hippo's table for a Huntress who provides for her people.

 

"IT'S A COLOSSAL WORLD AFTER ALL"
(a.k.a., what it's like to be the size of a human's finger)



Where do Fairies come from? Not from Arcadia! The few who are seen here are in bottles at the magic shop.

It's not a bad gig. You relax in a knight's item pouch and shout, "Hey! Listen!" whenever he needs advice, or you zip out of the bottle and heal him if he falls. Your fairy dust can pop the cork any time. Oh, and your wings produce oxygen so you never run out of breathable air.

Humans think your wings are made of whatever dragonfly wings are made of, but you're actually part flower. The wings are petals, but it's probably best humans don't know that. Then they might start growing fairy flowers... if that's even a thing.

The truth is, you have no idea where Fairies come from. No Fairy on Arcadia does. You're all hanging out in the magic shop, ready to be handed off to knight who is willing to die for the good of Arcadia. All your Fairy friends keep coming back to the shop only to be rented again, so whatever risk the knights take, it's no skin off your petal-winged back.

Maybe a knight will purchase your bottle today. Hopefully, his item pouch won't stink of salted meat and soggy socks. Those Fairy Bottles aren't air tight, y'know, even though they could be. Fairy wings produce oxygen! You'd think a magic shop owner would know that!

 

"A WALKING WIKIPEDIA"
(a.k.a., why knowledge checks may prove to be more entertaining than informative)



If you're a Tin Maiden with a job—not a paying job, mind you, but steady work in the world of men nonetheless—then you are well aware that iron is in demand, as is bronze.

You have this vast database in your brain, and the word "bronze" makes you curious. Bronze is made of copper and tin, according to the same entry that says that lead and paint make gold. Your database also tells of a Copper Maiden. If the two of you meet, maybe you'll be melted down to make bronze. Maybe the demand for iron is why the Iron Maiden was melted down.

You seem to be the only maiden who works the mines in Arcadia. That is, you're the only metal person, and the rest of the staff is male. There are human men, satyrs and short guys that are either called elves, dwarves, leprechauns or wieners. Your database has conflicting information, and words the human men use to describe the elves/dwarves/leprechauns/wieners are heard as a bleep which you understand to mean "term unfit for a lady."

 

"BEAUTY AND THE BESTIAL"
(a.k.a., how society judges books by their cover)



The Oceanid is born from the sea. She hatches from a large shell as what appears to be a nineteen year old maiden with perfect skin and a head of flowing hair. Salt water doesn't seem to have any negative effect on the nymph's skin and hair, nor does the sun. She doesn't know her words, and walking is clumsy, but she swims with ease and grace.

Days go by, and The Sea speaks to the Oceanid. She understands all she needs to know about nature.

Weeks go by, and The Sea speaks more, this time about the world of men. The Sea gives a warning. The nymph does not understand. She is blissfully ignorant, with no possessions.

Hunger is easily thwarted as the nymph wills a current toward herself. Sea weed and bite-sized sea creatures nourish her.

Months go by. So does a ship. It is not the first she has seen, but this time, the Oceanid does not swim away. Men gaze admiringly. Their bodies are strange. Materials are folded over their flesh, as if ashamed of their bodies. The Sea warned of this. The nymph does not understand.

She understands a rope unfurling over the rail. She begins to climb aboard.

As she emerges from the water, something overwhelms the men...

 

"BEAUTY AND THE BESTIAL, cont'd"
(a.k.a., some men are pigs; some women are a different kind of animal)



A Monstress watches the naive skinny-dipper climbing toward a ship. Sailors? This won't end well.

When the strange creature emerges behind the Oceanid, the men gaps. There are words. The Monstress knows the human's words. "To arms!" Her scaly hide deflects the first two bolts, but a third is lodged into her shoulder. The poor aquatic creature loses her grip and plunges into the sea.

The Oceanid does not understand any of this conflict. She simply blasts the men with ice, freezing them in place so she can get away.



* * * * *



Hours go by.

The Oceanid and the Monstress are in calm waters. The Sea is warm. The water is pure. The Monstress' wounds begin to heal until her pain is gone.