HOME | DD

Description
When it comes to assumptions and myths about dryads, one of the funny ones is that dryads are happy-go-lucky creatures that are always cheery and prone to frolicking. It is kind of weird how many people believe that about our kind. Do we truly come off that way to others, or is optimism and smiling truly that rare in those parts? Sure we are pretty upbeat about things, but I never would have thought that we would give off such an impression. I guess that would make me guilty of spreading such a belief, as I am usually a pretty happy, cheery person. I am not carefree and joyful because I am a dryad, I just tend to find a good thing in every situation. I have also learned that complaining often does very little to change things when working in my field. You can bellyache all day about how hard it is to climb a mountain in pursuit of trolls, but at the end of it all, the mountain is going to make itself easier for you. Regardless, it seems to be a widely accepted belief, save for an exception. This is what makes this idea kind of funny, because a lot of people see dryads as happy little flowers, but those same people are very much aware of Conifer dryads and do not find them cheery folk in the slightest.

Conifer dryads have many unique things about them, and one of the biggest is where they live. Their species can be found in cold environments, often arctic tundras and coniferous forests. While many other dryads despise the chilly weather, they do just fine in a world of heavy snowfall and freezing nights. Another thing that makes them stand out is their size. Conifer dryads are one the the tallest of our kind, with adults reaching about eleven to twelve feet in height. Even their sapling share this incredible size, as they are three feet tall when the emerge. Their height is gained from long limbs, which are quite useful for walking through deep snow and climbing the massive trees that make up their forests. Their "conifer" title comes from their pinecone-like head cap and the green needles that cover their arms and legs. With large, thick plates, the head cap of a Conifer dryad serves as hefty armor for them. It helps protect them from falling ice from the branches high above, enemy attacks and projectiles that may be aimed at their heads. The sharp needles on their limbs serves as defense from predators and attackers, making it difficult for foes to climb up their legs without getting stabbed. To go with their natural growths, Conifer dryads often wear garments made of lichens and moss. Some claim they help warm them, but I can't see how such thin, sparse things could do anything against the freezing winds!

Due to their preferred habitat, Conifer dryads are a nomadic species. They move with the seasons, relocating their camps through the forests and plains in order to keep close to a steady food source. Herds of prey are key to this cycle, as they provide the meat and furs they use to last the long, harsh winters. The dwellings of these dryads are made of leather, fallen branches, stones and bone. These huts of theirs are made to be collapsible and transportable, so that they may take them along during the migrations. Oddly enough, these dwellings are often wide and short, which would seem unfitting for such a tall species. Well it turns out that adults hardly spend any time within these houses, only going in them to rest. It is the saplings who hide within these huts, and they do not need nearly as much ceiling space. For adults, they are perfectly fine with crawling in these short doorways. Another reason these huts are so short comparatively is that they do not obstruct the dryads' line of sight. Ever vigilante, the Conifer dryads like to be well aware of their surroundings, and buildings as tall as them would block their view and give the enemy a place to sneak up from.

As I mentioned before when talking about dryad cheeriness, Conifer dryads are the exception to this rule (though not really since it is a false belief, but anyhoo). Their attitudes are much like the places they live, cold and serious. Due to the extreme weather and low temperatures, their kind cannot afford to waste time and energy on frivolous things. What matters to them is food, fur and the forest. They must make sure that their food stores are full and that they have enough warm garments for cruel winters ahead. The woods they call home is also vital, as it offers protection, a place to stay and is the burial ground of their ancestors. With all these concerns combined, Conifer dryads can come off as a harsh and hostile species. They do not like to waste time with outsiders, especially since these strangers would most likely try to take some of their resources. Even walking through their territory is enough to gain their irritated attention, as they become suspicious of an attack and are also peeved about all the game that was chased away by the intruder's blundering. Even other dryads can be met with this distaste, I know I have! When I went out to find a group that would allow me to stay close and study them, it turned out that they found me first! Apparently my intrusion was noticed and a whole squad of them dropped from the trees and surrounded me! The dramatic entrance knocked me off my roots! Immediately they wanted to know what I wanted, and I told them. They then told me to go elsewhere, as they didn't want to be bothered by my "foolishness." I tried to convince them, but apparently this annoyed them further, as one of the sisters grabbed me by the pack and hauled me off like a naughty dog. I was tossed into a snow bank and it was then that I decided to try and find a different group to befriend.

Though us dryads can get a cold shoulder from their kind, other species can get it even worse. Humans are the best example of this, as Conifer dryads absolutely despise them. This is mainly due to human settlements and lumber companies moving in to chop down trees for their own uses. The pines that grow in these frozen forests are massive in size and tough in composition, which makes them prized for ship masts and sturdy homes. At the same time, these giant trees are ancestors to the Conifer dryads, and they will not let an ax even touch their bark. Yes, other dryad species are not fans of lumbering and forest cutting, but we do not protest these activities in such a...violent manner. Those who come to their forests with plans of lumbering and chopping will be met with extreme lethal force. The tales of such encounters and battles can be quite chilling, even to the likes of me! Workers found dead in the frozen branches above, horses and riders shish-kebobbed by ten-foot long spears and entire lumber camps wiped off the face of the earth. Their violent response to these harvesting attempts have made Conifer dryads famous. Those who live up north will steer clear of any forests inhabited by them and they often craft their goods from anything besides wood. These precautions are smart, as Conifer dryads are powerful fighters and great hunters. Their long limbs allow them to throw out sweeping blows, and they also add range to their weaponry. Though they look thin, they are quite strong and are capable of lifting a human-sized opponent up with a single hand. Their stone blade weapons allow them to take out foes from afar, but don't underestimate their close combat skills! I have literally seen one of these dryads punt a charging wolf across the woods, and the poor thing didn't have a good landing. Another thing to keep in mind is their armored head cap. While it serves as great defense, it also can be used for a bludgeoning weapon. Turns out that Conifer dryads like to headbutt things during hunts and battle. It may sound silly, but they can crack a skull wide open with one of these blows. There are even stories of great conifer hunters who could knock an arctic dragon out cold with an attack like this. After what I have seen, I think I can believe that!

While Conifer Dryads do come off a bit cold and mean, they are not strangers to warmer feelings. You can see this anytime one of these hardened warriors is with their saplings. Though they can be strict teachers and parents, they do spend time with their offspring and can find joy in their silly antics. In fact, a large chunk of their hunting and gathering is used to collect food and furs for their young. Unlike their mothers, Conifer saplings are not able to withstand such cold temperatures and brutal winds alone. Instead, they are bundled up in thick furs and hides to keep warm, and they tend to hide within the huts to avoid the harsh weather. In most cases, outsiders will never see a Conifer sapling, as they remain indoors while their parents keep watch over the village. And don't think you can just walk into one of these dwellings to see them, as Conifer dryads are very protective of their young. In fact, it took me two weeks to earn enough trust for me to even be near on of their saplings. Even after spending a few months with them, I was never allowed to enter the huts where the saplings slept. I couldn't even look at the dwelling for too long, as that would earn me a wooden smack on the noggin from a peeved mother.

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

Description
When it comes to assumptions and myths about dryads, one of the funny ones is that dryads are happy-go-lucky creatures that are always cheery and prone to frolicking. It is kind of weird how many people believe that about our kind. Do we truly come off that way to others, or is optimism and smiling truly that rare in those parts? Sure we are pretty upbeat about things, but I never would have thought that we would give off such an impression. I guess that would make me guilty of spreading such a belief, as I am usually a pretty happy, cheery person. I am not carefree and joyful because I am a dryad, I just tend to find a good thing in every situation. I have also learned that complaining often does very little to change things when working in my field. You can bellyache all day about how hard it is to climb a mountain in pursuit of trolls, but at the end of it all, the mountain is going to make itself easier for you. Regardless, it seems to be a widely accepted belief, save for an exception. This is what makes this idea kind of funny, because a lot of people see dryads as happy little flowers, but those same people are very much aware of Conifer dryads and do not find them cheery folk in the slightest.

Conifer dryads have many unique things about them, and one of the biggest is where they live. Their species can be found in cold environments, often arctic tundras and coniferous forests. While many other dryads despise the chilly weather, they do just fine in a world of heavy snowfall and freezing nights. Another thing that makes them stand out is their size. Conifer dryads are one the the tallest of our kind, with adults reaching about eleven to twelve feet in height. Even their sapling share this incredible size, as they are three feet tall when the emerge. Their height is gained from long limbs, which are quite useful for walking through deep snow and climbing the massive trees that make up their forests. Their "conifer" title comes from their pinecone-like head cap and the green needles that cover their arms and legs. With large, thick plates, the head cap of a Conifer dryad serves as hefty armor for them. It helps protect them from falling ice from the branches high above, enemy attacks and projectiles that may be aimed at their heads. The sharp needles on their limbs serves as defense from predators and attackers, making it difficult for foes to climb up their legs without getting stabbed. To go with their natural growths, Conifer dryads often wear garments made of lichens and moss. Some claim they help warm them, but I can't see how such thin, sparse things could do anything against the freezing winds!

Due to their preferred habitat, Conifer dryads are a nomadic species. They move with the seasons, relocating their camps through the forests and plains in order to keep close to a steady food source. Herds of prey are key to this cycle, as they provide the meat and furs they use to last the long, harsh winters. The dwellings of these dryads are made of leather, fallen branches, stones and bone. These huts of theirs are made to be collapsible and transportable, so that they may take them along during the migrations. Oddly enough, these dwellings are often wide and short, which would seem unfitting for such a tall species. Well it turns out that adults hardly spend any time within these houses, only going in them to rest. It is the saplings who hide within these huts, and they do not need nearly as much ceiling space. For adults, they are perfectly fine with crawling in these short doorways. Another reason these huts are so short comparatively is that they do not obstruct the dryads' line of sight. Ever vigilante, the Conifer dryads like to be well aware of their surroundings, and buildings as tall as them would block their view and give the enemy a place to sneak up from.

As I mentioned before when talking about dryad cheeriness, Conifer dryads are the exception to this rule (though not really since it is a false belief, but anyhoo). Their attitudes are much like the places they live, cold and serious. Due to the extreme weather and low temperatures, their kind cannot afford to waste time and energy on frivolous things. What matters to them is food, fur and the forest. They must make sure that their food stores are full and that they have enough warm garments for cruel winters ahead. The woods they call home is also vital, as it offers protection, a place to stay and is the burial ground of their ancestors. With all these concerns combined, Conifer dryads can come off as a harsh and hostile species. They do not like to waste time with outsiders, especially since these strangers would most likely try to take some of their resources. Even walking through their territory is enough to gain their irritated attention, as they become suspicious of an attack and are also peeved about all the game that was chased away by the intruder's blundering. Even other dryads can be met with this distaste, I know I have! When I went out to find a group that would allow me to stay close and study them, it turned out that they found me first! Apparently my intrusion was noticed and a whole squad of them dropped from the trees and surrounded me! The dramatic entrance knocked me off my roots! Immediately they wanted to know what I wanted, and I told them. They then told me to go elsewhere, as they didn't want to be bothered by my "foolishness." I tried to convince them, but apparently this annoyed them further, as one of the sisters grabbed me by the pack and hauled me off like a naughty dog. I was tossed into a snow bank and it was then that I decided to try and find a different group to befriend.

Though us dryads can get a cold shoulder from their kind, other species can get it even worse. Humans are the best example of this, as Conifer dryads absolutely despise them. This is mainly due to human settlements and lumber companies moving in to chop down trees for their own uses. The pines that grow in these frozen forests are massive in size and tough in composition, which makes them prized for ship masts and sturdy homes. At the same time, these giant trees are ancestors to the Conifer dryads, and they will not let an ax even touch their bark. Yes, other dryad species are not fans of lumbering and forest cutting, but we do not protest these activities in such a...violent manner. Those who come to their forests with plans of lumbering and chopping will be met with extreme lethal force. The tales of such encounters and battles can be quite chilling, even to the likes of me! Workers found dead in the frozen branches above, horses and riders shish-kebobbed by ten-foot long spears and entire lumber camps wiped off the face of the earth. Their violent response to these harvesting attempts have made Conifer dryads famous. Those who live up north will steer clear of any forests inhabited by them and they often craft their goods from anything besides wood. These precautions are smart, as Conifer dryads are powerful fighters and great hunters. Their long limbs allow them to throw out sweeping blows, and they also add range to their weaponry. Though they look thin, they are quite strong and are capable of lifting a human-sized opponent up with a single hand. Their stone blade weapons allow them to take out foes from afar, but don't underestimate their close combat skills! I have literally seen one of these dryads punt a charging wolf across the woods, and the poor thing didn't have a good landing. Another thing to keep in mind is their armored head cap. While it serves as great defense, it also can be used for a bludgeoning weapon. Turns out that Conifer dryads like to headbutt things during hunts and battle. It may sound silly, but they can crack a skull wide open with one of these blows. There are even stories of great conifer hunters who could knock an arctic dragon out cold with an attack like this. After what I have seen, I think I can believe that!

While Conifer Dryads do come off a bit cold and mean, they are not strangers to warmer feelings. You can see this anytime one of these hardened warriors is with their saplings. Though they can be strict teachers and parents, they do spend time with their offspring and can find joy in their silly antics. In fact, a large chunk of their hunting and gathering is used to collect food and furs for their young. Unlike their mothers, Conifer saplings are not able to withstand such cold temperatures and brutal winds alone. Instead, they are bundled up in thick furs and hides to keep warm, and they tend to hide within the huts to avoid the harsh weather. In most cases, outsiders will never see a Conifer sapling, as they remain indoors while their parents keep watch over the village. And don't think you can just walk into one of these dwellings to see them, as Conifer dryads are very protective of their young. In fact, it took me two weeks to earn enough trust for me to even be near on of their saplings. Even after spending a few months with them, I was never allowed to enter the huts where the saplings slept. I couldn't even look at the dwelling for too long, as that would earn me a wooden smack on the noggin from a peeved mother.

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian