The Blight of the Everwood

D

Davion

Guest
Original poster
The great arch trees of the everwood forest had lasted before time itself was thought to exist. Great armored trunks of the hardest bark in all shades of brown, twisting and monstrous branches that sprawled through the canopy of the forest like vines, and the dark foliage that blanketed the sky were all wonders to behold within the everwood's borders. That is, until one day the first of the capital trees came crashing down, roots having given way while burrowed down within the rich black soil.

The toppling of the tree was the first of many. Soon as many creatures of the forest discovered, the weakness of that tree had soon spread, many falling way as the life within them drained or silently petrified under their vigilant posture. As the blight spread it created a spot of death that slowly encroached upon the land. The animals and inhabitants began their quick exile from the lands they had once coveted. Between the color of the soil and the appearance of the vegetation that lay rotting on the ground, land overrun by the blight was known as "The Black".

Miles from the edge of the black, a small mining town deals with the spotty emergence of the blight around it's borders. Few adventurers and mercenaries attempt to tame the blight, or more so the abominations that spawn forth from the decayed wastelands. At least one such man is in the town today, standing on the top platform of a logging assembly. Using it as a makeshift watchtower to scan the perimeter of the town, he sighs and climbs his way back down. The stress has gotten to everyone, including himself. With a hand to wipe off his forehead, he does his best to shrug off his own worries and put his mind to the task at hand. A long dark brown leather cloak hangs off his shoulders, mirrored by equally dark brown hair set above two green eyes, a scar hanging across his cheek.
 
After hearing so much about the black, Nevyel felt the need to do something useful for once, instead of helping around his parents' farm. Because he was told a couple things about it, his curiosity grew bigger. That combined with the increasing worrying of the town made him want to volunteer to venture outside, near the edge of the black. He was then told that if he wanted to help, he should go see a man with a brown cloak, black hair and a scar on his face.

Soon after, Nevyel gathered a couple supplies in his backpack and then wandered off in search for the an he was told about.
His short brown hair barely moved in the wind and his most distinguishable feature was probably his red leather bracelet that he always wore on his left arm.
 
(Do you notice anything of your own writing immediately that you want to improve upon? For sake of ease, i'll write messages in here like this)

As the watch from the top of the logging platform finished his descent, he locked eyes with the young Neyvel. Starting a quick jog over to the youth, identified by the red leather bracelet, he offered his hand upon stopping infront of him. "You must be Neyvel, well met. I'm Trayt, the pathfinder hired by the local militia. You don't look like you've often explored, though I could be wrong. Are you all set for the expedition?" Trayt asked with a rugged smile, calmly checking over a variety of places beneath his cloak, producing and retracting short blades, instruments, and some smaller provisions. "The blight moves farther and faster every day, something needs to be done if this sector of the forest is to remain past next crop harvest.", he added on while distracted by his self examination.
 
(Well, nothing in my writing seems to stick out to me, but I might be wrong.)

Nevyel gladly shook the hand Trayt offered him while quickly glancing at the gear he wore. "It's true that I'm not an experienced adventurer but I know how to wield a blade..." He quickly looked aside, ashamed. "Though I don't own one." He spoke again, in a more joyful voice. "I do have essential supplies though, rations, covers, candles, a lantern..." When he realized how long the list had become, he immediately stopped himself. "All in all, I want to be helpful in the fight against the black." He said, showing all his resolve in his eyes.
 
(It depends on what you want to achieve, and to what level you want to be proficient in different areas. Since we aren't limited to one style of writing though, this isn't serious. Meaning, for example, every sentence doesn't need to paint a perfect picture of what you've imagined. From the first post, what i've noticed is "Because he was told a couple things about it, his curiosity grew bigger." is an awkward sentence, shouldn't start a sentence with because. Also it seems incomplete unless you say -what- he was told that made him so curious. Otherwise phrasing the sentence like: "Neyvel's curiosity grew as he heard rumors about The Black", seems less awkward and doesn't highlight the rumors as the topic of the sentence, instead the focus is on Neyvel and his curiosity growing.
The second thing I notice is small: my character has brown hair ^^, just make sure to check details. Lastly, if you end with something that the other RPers can use to build their post off of, it's friendlier and encourages growth in the roleplay. For example, I knew exactly where you were heading with the first post, but say Neyvel walked with purpose towards him or the like. Not a bad thing at all, but I'm just pointing out what I can unless you want me to help with something in particular.

I should mention, overall: Don't worry about anything, these are just finer points of writing between people, you are doing well :D
And another note: In this second post, you did end with a conversation piece to my character, which is the kind of building point I can use, so good work :D)

Trayt's hands worked deftly within the pack at his feet while Neyvel spoke. Upon hearing his lack of a blade, Trayt was handing him a spare while still mid-sentence. At the conclusion, he found that he certainly admired the courage within the young man, taking another look at the youth's physique and finding it well maintained from the farm, a good start for an adventurer. "You have the essentials, lad. A blade will only do so much when we are out to find the cause of this blasted plague. Keeping us alive until we find it, that's the important part." Trayt mulled over his words as he recounted the last attack of blighted wolves on the outstretch of the farms. "Equally important parts.", he corrected himself after the thought.

Starting a slow but brisk walk towards the edge, Trayt ushered Neyvel follow him. At the edge of the lumber yard, several villagers gathered, including Neyvel's parents, to see them off to the edge of the settlement after a long few minutes walk.
 
(Thanks for the advice. I don't really have any point to work on in particular.)

Nevyel gratefully grabbed the blade Trayt handed him with both hands, thanking him with a light ow of his head. Trayt's comments reassured Nevyel and reinforced his belief that he made the right choice by volunteering. He turned around to put the weapon in his backpack, half of it sticking out in an inconvenient way. "Hmm..That should do it." Nevyel though to himself before strutting to catch up to Trayt's walking pace. While they went past the village's edge, Nevyel quickly looked at all the villagers, even stopping for a second to stare at his parents, trying desperately to smile at them and tell them he'll be okay, but he doubted too much to do that.

He turned to Trayt again, asking him nervously. "So, where exacty are we headed ?"
 
With a grim nod at the folks they passed on the way out of the village, Trayt tilted his head to answer Neyvel just as they left hearing distance of the crowd. "About a mile from here, there is a small riverbed that has run dry. There's no knowledge on how far up towards the epicenter of the black it goes, but it does cover a considerable distance and will make the ground smooth beneath our feet. The riverbed runs for at least fifteen miles in that direction, with little activity of the blight wolves spotted along it for the last month." Fixing the collar of his cloak and smoothing the hood while he walked, Trayt scanned the lush vegetation that formed around them as they left the settlement clearing, his listening to the conversation secondary in nature, though not as any offense.


"Say we do survive, perhaps even discover something about the black, and manage to return to the settlement. What will you plan on doing, Neyvel?", Trayt asked curiously, eyes still darting between the tree's they shifted between and the small rock ledges they scaled while moving through the brush.
 
After taking one last look at his parents and village, Nevyel answered with a slightly melancholic tone, his eyes looking away at some bush or rock every now and then. "If we survive this time, that won't mean our problem will be solved, right ?" A light smile grew on his face as his walking pace increased and his voice got happier. "Then, we'll have to go out again !" While still following Trayt, Nevyel tilted his head and asked. "Why did you ask me that question ? And what do you plan on doing when we're done ?"
 
(Okay, first thing I notice here is: "If we survive this time, that won't mean our problem will be solved, right ?" comes off as extremely awkward. When speaking from your character's perspective, try to make sure not to say anything they shouldn't know, or act in a way that suggests they are always keenly aware of the situation. I'm not saying that's what you've done here, though. Here, it's simply that "if we survive this time", sounds out of place because this will be the first adventure between Trayt and Neyvel, so "this time" comes as sounding they have a past. While they don't have a past, "this time" then appears to be a parameter of the adventure they are going to have, which is right, but that's a very odd manner of speaking. I'd have reworded the sentence with: "Even if we survive this expedition, that doesn't mean our problem with the black will be solved, does it?" or something about it. It's generally good practice in writing to always make sure only to use pronouns after stating the noun last in that frame of reference.



Trayt nodded in agreement at the first half of Neyvel's chatter; they would have to go out again if the seeds of this expedition bore no fruit. Trayt himself, as a mercenary, would be doing this job until the day he died or until the dilemma of the black was solved, whichever occurred first. When Neyvel dodged his question and instead countered with the same, Trayt found himself somewhat unsure in actuality, though he always had considered himself a man of quick decisions and clear direction. "I only ask out of curiosity, this is my job as a mercenary. After this is all done, however long that may take, I will either take my leave to settle down somewhere that feels right, or I will move on to the next town in need of a hired hand." he answered with minor pauses between his phrases, still contemplating it within his head.
 
(I'll keep that in mind.)

"Y'know, once all of this is over, we'll probably need a bit of help. I'm sure you hands could be useful again to the village." Nevyel said while barely paying attention. He cared more about the scenery around, examining the vegetation around and ground below. "Say... Do you know why that riverbed's dry ?" He asked, curiously.
 
"If you're suggesting I turn into a farmer when this is all done, I wouldn't pursue the notion much longer. It's not in me, though I may stick around to take care of the odds and ends of things." Trayt had replied, unsurprised by the next question. "Not surprising really, some of the growth far down that collapsed blocked off the river, now the whole riverbed is the smoothest surface we will find for quite some time. The waters diverted elsewhere into the forest, granted as vile as those waters may be, it might be for the best"
 
"I'm sure it'll be fun to have you around, I'd love training with you at least once." He said with a smile, while looking ahead of him carelessly nearly forgetting the dangers that brought them here.
 
Never letting his eyes off the path for more than a moment, Trayt gave Neyvel a look of curiosity. "Training wasn't exactly the plan, but I suppose it's necessary to help us stay off the wilds should they appear. We can do some sparring around the camp fire later tonight once we have made our rest." Kicking over a small clod of dirt that lay in the riverbed, Trayt found that it broke effortlessly and was cast into the wind. "The river has been dry too long, blight or not, nothing will grow without the water supply downstream."
 
Nevyel glanced curiously at the ground after Trayt made his point, after staring at it for a couple seconds he nodded. "Yep, if this problem isn't solved soon, the people will have to either move or starve..."
 
(Doing pretty well, though I will mention that post-length is always something to keep in mind. For a onexone it's generally however much the 2 people want to say at a time, though if you were in a multi-person roleplay, you'd want to write more like a paragraph since the amount of time between when you can post is greater. For us though, no need to worry.)

Nodding grimly, Trayt left the conversation at that. The urgency of the mission was not going to be lost on them for a moment, it was best they not fret over the circumstances until after their return, rebuilding would always prove a satisfying feeling. Several minutes later, the foliage had grown darker and was beginning to stink with the odor of rot. The spotted appearance of the living and thriving greens only proved that this was the edge of the black.
 
Nevyel kept glancing around. When he noticed the rotten stench and blackened vegetation, he turned to Trayt, asking naively. "So this is the black ?" His face didn't show any apprehension or fear, just plain curiosity.
 
Stopping for a moment to kneel and pick up a handful of a rotting clump of leaves, Trayt let the particles fall through his grasp, wiping off his palm on the side of his leg. "No, this is only the beginning. The decomposition continues much further until much of the foliage is putrid sludge, and there are still living components of the forest. I'm afraid what we see hear is merely a cold that will lead to rigor mortis." With a grim resolve, Trayt continued onward up the dry riverbed.
 
"I suppose this is where it starts getting dangerous." He said, looking at Trayt, worried. He put his backpack on the ground in front of him for a second to grab the blade Trayt handed him earlier and kept it in his hand. He quickly grabbed his bag in his offhand and kept on following Trayt, watching his surroundings with due attention.
 
Trayt nodded, doing the same preparation. Wiping off the rotting debris from his boot, he continued the slow march upwards the river bed. A short time later, they halted as they arrived at a small waterfall ledge, no taller than either of them. The vegetation had crumpled around the edges, leaving them with the only choice of moving straight up the small face. Kneeling down and placing his hands together to form a cup, Trayt awaited Neyvel's foot to help boost him over the rockface.
 
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