THEME:
Traveling with Dryads

Luckily for me, I’d been adopted by a travelling tribe of Dryads. Not the friendliest people, and nearly mute, for they preferred to speak mentally rather than barbarically with words, we were getting on quite well I thought. Ah, yes. Here it is. Halventhore, the city of the Elvin Kings. I had no idea why they were travelling there, but felt truly grateful for the safe passage through dangerous territories. I would be able to plea for asylum with the Elves. The political disintegration of the Truce had left these lands in ruin. Those who lived here were in perilous danger of being robbed, or killed or worse.
A tall muscular Dryad with richly textured green skin, dotted with crackled bark in patches on his forearms and shoulders glared down at me. His eyes, deep pools of darkness, like a forest on a moonless night penetrated my thoughts, my calm, my feelings of luck.
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“If it were up to me, we would have left you in the Mirewood Swamp where we found you!”
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The thought blasted me, like a fist to the face. I wish he’d hit me, it may have hurt less, for the throbbing in my mind felt like an attack on my senses. I did not blame him for his hostility against me, it was well known that Dwarves and Dryads had not been kindly to one another since a lost age.
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“Rupen, come up to me!”

A slender female whose voice carried through the group like the chirping of many songbirds called me up to walk beside her. A deep growl came from the Husky Dryad to my right, who’d sent the threatening message to me. I counted my blessings to be able to move away from him. With some effort, I lumbered forward, the mess pack on my back, bulky and cumbersome, pans swishing about, utensils clanking. More glares. I was not built for stealth and as a pack mule, the noises couldn’t be helped.
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“Yes Princess. You called for me?”
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Her grace was not wasted, one ounce. Although I did not find her attractive, I knew that mortal men would die for the just the beauty of her face alone. Her lithe figure, a tribute to the Mother Earth herself and perfection in form. Other Dwarves would have me flogged for my generous description, but I am an observant traveler who collects from the world, that which others cannot see for themselves. I assure you, no other Dwarf has ever had the privilege to travel with Dryads. I may be the last, for once they make their plea to the Elvin Kings, they may forever be gone from this mad world. For now, I allowed myself to enjoy the beauty of this company, the sincerity in their conviction, and after my ordeal… which I will not recount here, I am lucky to be alive.
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“Rupen, you dare look at your map in the company you travel with?”
Her words were spoken in gentle tones, but the words themselves were scathing and accusatory. I understood her at once and realized my offense.
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“Forgiveness your majesty, I am unable to communicate with the land in the same way that you do. I…”
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“Do not trust us, perhaps?”
Again, the tone was pleasant, casual and even kind. I felt that she meant no ill will against me for her questions, her demeanor was that of curiosity rather than upset. Yet, I felt the sting, for my actions had caused her charity to come into question and I did not want that.
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“I do trust the Dryads, you have kindly taken me under your protection and assured me safe passage. For that I am indebted to you. I may never be able to repay the magnitude of your generosity, but I would if required, with my life, if you requested it.”
I prayed silently that my sincerity spoke through the fear in my voice. They couldn’t leave me here, I would surely perish.
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She grinned, not maliciously, but childlike, innocent, which I hadn’t realized was possible because of her womanly frame and countenance. A cool breeze washed over us as her hand rose skyward. Still grinning, she twiddled her fingers to the wind and it danced around us for a moment, soothing our soreness, cooling our brows, calming our minds. Everyone felt it. The looks on the faces of the other Dryads spoke for them, they needed no words, their elation was tangible. We all accepted this gift, basked in it for no more than a minute and continued on the journey, returning to the serious nature of our expedition, with one exception. The group felt lighter, cheerier and merrier. The tension had gone. I peered back over my shoulder at the tall, muscular Dryad who’d been accosting me. He returned my gaze, the anger melted from the deep pools of his eyes. The magic the Princess has conjured seemed to have erased his malice towards me. He seemed content with my presence now. I looked at all of them and encountered similar expressions.
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“What did you do to them?” I asked cautiously in a hushed tone
She grinned again, knowingly this time, with that of wisdom and experience.
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“I did nothing but remind them of their true nature, outside of war and defeat and death. For when one is reminded of themselves, they have nothing to fear.”
She patted me on my bald head like a pet. Then continued to focus on the road ahead. I noticed our surroundings had lightened as well. We were nearing the Valley of the Imps, a place saturated in magic and somewhat removed from the rest of the world. This was our layover until morning, possibly for several days if we could be entertaining enough guests, which was not customary for Dryads in the least. Given the dire emergency of our visit, I was curious to see just how mutable their characteristics would present themselves. Without the company of the Dryads I would never come here alone. But I too felt a calm and peace within me, the pleasant side effects of the Princesses magic. The betrayal I had been lamenting washed away and faded into the soft, mossy forest floor. Spring was here, and my thoughts were as light as the dawn.

A continuation of Dwarven Warriors; the adventures of Rupen persist….