Quill and Compass, Entry 14: Green Dragons
The forests claimed by Green Dragons are among the most peaceful places I have ever set foot in. Light falls through the leaves like drifting gold dust, birdsong meanders through the air, and every creature moves with an easy calm as if the forest itself soothes them into gentler moods. It's the kind of place that makes you feel as though nothing cruel is meant to happen. Yet beneath that serenity lies a steady, watchful presence. The vines seem to part for you, the branches shift as if listening, and the earth feels… attentive. This is the quiet guardianship of a Green Dragon; a welcome extended to all who walk in peace and harmony. However, the moment harm touches their grove, that gentleness melts away. I've seen a Green Dragon's wrath firsthand, and what it leaves in its wake is something terrifying, and a fate I'm glad to have avoided.
Green Dragons are shaped as much by their forests as the forests are shaped by them. Their scales shimmer in every shade of green the Realm can muster and their bodies are long and serpentine, with prehensile tails that coil and sway with a strange, mesmerizing grace. Their claws are long and curved, built for maneuvering through their forest homes, but equally adept at rending flesh. Their eyes are a soft amber-brown, framed in black like the night sky, and carry a gaze that feels patient at first glance… and terrifyingly decisive at second. Their wings tuck much closer to their slender bodies than other Dragons when beneath the canopies, giving them an almost uncanny ability to maneuver through the trees at speed. Make no mistake, their grace and beauty are astounding, but they are built to be apex predators; they simply choose not to be.
They treat their territory less like a kingdom and more like a garden. Their Draconic breath is a drifting cloud of green-black vapor that is deceptively gentle at first glance. It doesn't poison or suffocate like a Black Dragon’s miasma. It seeks rot, blight, and dying things with frightening accuracy. I once watched from a hidden nook as a Dragoness cleared a diseased patch of forest with a single exhale: the mist gently rolling over the ground, and the afflicted trees crumbled to mulch while healthy ones remained untouched. When she finished, she whispered, “Kozren vel ren drek’ar khal’shaal.” Then she looked directly at me and repeated the phrase in Common: "Now the others may breathe again."
Never before had my heart plummeted so far into my body, her stare pierced my Soul and carried what felt like a warning, but her voice was oddly calming, soothing even. She invited me for tea from her hoard and answered every question I had before adorning one of my braids with a flower that has yet to wilt.
While we're on the topic, their hoards are bountiful gardens filled with all manner of seeds, rare blooms, medicinal herbs, cuttings from ancient trees, and dried petals arranged with artistic reverence. Some Greens cultivate species found nowhere else, their groves becoming living archives of botanical history. I once saw another Green Dragon tend a single glowing orchid as though it were a relic of a bygone era. Though we call these collections "hoards", Greens are surprisingly generous, cultivating and sharing flora with Dragon and mortal alike. Some act as apothecaries, others house the most beautiful flowers known to the mortal eye, and some cultivate gardens of alchemical ingredients.
Green Dragons treat courtship as an exercise in harmony rather than conquest. A willing partner releases a personalized fragrance through the trees, crafted from a blend of the flowers, herbs, and rare plants they’ve collected over their lifetime. Any Dragon drawn to that scent approaches not with bravado or malice, but with the offer of peaceful companionship. They spend the following days living side by side, tending a small patch of the forest together to test their compatibility. If pruning, planting, and nurturing flow without conflict, they end the courtship with a symbolic celebration: flying high above the canopy together, then locking tails and beginning a slow, spiraling glide to the forest floor, planting a seed at the site of their future nest. On the other hand, if the connection never forms, they part peacefully, with nothing more dramatic than a courteous nod and a sincere wish of luck. Greens are often also polyamorous, it's not unheard of for them to seek a new mate (or even multiple) after bonding, even while incubating eggs or rearing their young. So long as the compatibility is strong between all parties involved, love is a shared experience for Greens that freely ebbs and flows. Even past mates are spoken of with affection, never bitterness.
Their nests are less structures and more living sanctuaries. They choose clearings where sunlight filters softly or riversides where the air stays cool, then weave branches, vines, and pliant roots into a sheltered cradle for their soft, leathery eggs. The nest is alive in every sense: moisture-regulating moss, carefully pruned saplings, even medicinal herbs planted nearby to ward off pests. The parents tend it constantly, adjusting foliage to keep the balance just right. After almost two years, when the Dragonlings finally emerge, the parents rejoice and the forest seems to come alive to welcome its newest caretakers.
Greens view mortals with a patient eye. Not as pests, and not quite as equals either, but as living beings with our own role in the Cycle. Those who respect the land are often welcomed, sometimes even guided; I know a druidic order that owes its entire founding to the lessons of a single Green Dragon. Those who harm the forest, however, discover the hard truth: it is always the quiet ones you must fear most. When a Green Dragon decides a mortal needs to be removed, the act is swift and merciless, as natural and unhesitating as a gardener pruning weeds. Their Draconic breath has a terrifying effect on the living if they choose to weaponize it. As I alluded to in my opening to this entry, I witnessed a once healthy man reduced to a husk in seconds. The Dragon's breath unraveling the very essence that gave him life until he collapsed under weight of his armor. The strangest part, dear reader, was that his armor was untouched, his clothes pristine, and his boots unsoiled; the rest of us were spared and given a simple, but stern, warning.
I’ve always found something humbling in their presence. They do not strive for glory or dominance. They leave no monuments. Their lives are measured not in conquest, but in the health of the land around them. Standing in their groves, hearing leaves rustle above and roots stir below, you realize they are living embodiments of balance. They plant, they prune, they nurture, and they endure. I still carry with me the lessons that Dragoness taught me, and that flower remains as beautiful as the day she gifted it to me.
May your roots run deep and your gardens forever flourish,
Yours, ever truly,
— Tobias Elanor, Bard, Scholar, Explorer Extraordinaire
© DracTheDrake
Hello hello!
Green Dragons were tons of fun to brainstorm and build. They're classically associated with forests, so we asked ourselves: how would a DRAGON not just live, but thrive in a forest? Simple, adapt them to it. The slender build, the prehensile tail, the tightly tucked wings; all evolved to improve life and mobility in a dense forest.
As for personality and mentality, we had fun basically making them the "hippies" (not meant to be derogatory by any means) of Dragonkind. Free and open love, pacifism by choice until violence is deemed absolutely necessary, and a welcoming-until-scorned philosophy. They are a nice refresher after most dragons tend to be greedy, violent, or predatory in nature.
We're nearing the end of the Dragon series, only 2 remain: Silver and White. If you'd like to request the topic of the next series, please let me know in the comments! I love the feedback! Thanks again for reading Entry 14, I'll see you again at the end of Entry 15!!