Dryad: The Spirit in the Wood
The Soul of the Timber
Biological life is usually divided into flora and fauna. The Dryad is the bridge between them. Identified in classical taxonomy as Nymphae, these are not spirits that haunt a forest. They are the consciousness of the forest itself.
The most vulnerable subspecies is the Hamadryad. This entity shares a symbiotic life cycle with a specific tree (usually oak or pine). When the acorn sprouts, the spirit is born. When the tree flourishes, she is young. And when the tree dies—whether by winter, lightning, or the axe—the Dryad screams and perishes with it.
The Shy Guardian
Dryads are naturally reclusive. They appear as humanoid females who can merge seamlessly into bark and foliage. Their skin mimics the texture of their host tree—rough like oak or smooth like birch. They act as the antibodies of the grove. They punish those who strip bark, pollute streams, or hunt for sport. However, their physical form is fragile. A steel axe is an existential threat to a being made of wood and magic.
The Curse of Erysichthon
The danger of the Dryad lies in their dying curse. The historical case of King Erysichthon serves as the primary warning. Needing timber for a banquet hall, the King cut down a sacred oak despite the tree bleeding human blood. The dying Dryad prophesied vengeance. The curse was not physical. It was metabolic. The King was afflicted with Limos (Insatiable Hunger). The more he ate, the hungrier he became, until he consumed his wealth, his family, and finally his own flesh.
Interaction Protocols
Forestry operations in ancient groves require spiritual caution.
- Permission: Before felling an ancient tree, one must ask. If a feeling of dread or sadness occurs, stop immediately.
- Offerings: Pouring milk or honey at the roots is the traditional method of appeasement.
- The Bleeding: If a tree releases sap that looks red or warm, do not continue cutting.
The Final Warning
Walking through an ancient Sequoia grove, the heaviness you feel is not humidity; it is observation. The forest has a memory, and it remembers every axe strike. If you swing a blade and the wood groans with a sound like a human voice, do not strike again; instead, drop the axe and run.
