RPG Academy: DreadLord and Edge

Introduction POST
First we’ll start with the basics.
The Promise:

In the world of writing, you make a contract between the reader and yourself.

You make a promise. As to what that promise is- it depends on the story and the writer.

In the flipside world of RPG, it’s no different, though instead of making a promise just to the reader, you’re also making a promise to the other writers.

The World is the first part of the Promise, and following the build of the world is very important.

RPGers rely on team work. As a team, we may be as small as 2 or as many as 12 or more. We lean on the post above and take details from that sample of writing to further the story along. Our characters react to what ever is thrown at them by the other players. This is why the Promise is so binding.

But how do you keep the Promise with The World?

Remember back in days of elementary school you were taught the five senses? You’re going to be using them.

Dread, I've looked at your sample of writing. I've submitted it here so that for those reviewing this classroom will note and know what sample this is. I've made it small so that it doesn't take too much room.
Student Sample:
Today I face my memories,
Those days that now have passed,
Will I be able to see again,
The smiles that once greeted me.

We never knew that as we traveled,
Down our chosen paths,
The time we spent together,
Would end so suddenly.

Through forced obligations,
All we built would fall,
We wondered what would happen,
It took so much time.

And as I now remember,
Those days when laughter shared,
Filling our hearts,
Bringing peace to the soul.

After such a long time now,
I face my fears alone,
And vow to give demonstration,
That those days can soon return.

And when they do we all will know,
We were one in mind, once together,
But when we join one more time,
Nothing will tear us apart.

This type of writing is good for flashbacks intermixed with action. It is not a stable form of RPGing because it doesn't interact with the other characters or world.

I'll be starting this Role Play.

Lesson ONE:
No matter where you are, there is always an area. Even in the blackest pits of Oblivion, there is something. You can feel can’t you? Or maybe you can’t. But that’s a feeling too- but more on that some other lesson.

Your first challenge is to:
~ usea basic human
~ No magic
~ No powers
~ Keep a light back story.
~React to my post.

Bonus: One physical handicap: Blind, deaf, or both, or physical injury that slows the character down. (optional)

The Edge of the World

The waves crashed against the docks as the fisherman pulled their nets from the life giving sea. Tonight the catch would feed the children and the wives. Tonight stomachs could be full because they had worked for the catch. So together the men pulled their nets and grunted with effort as they worked together as fish’s silver scales flashed.

But the fishermen were wary of what they pulled from the mother sea. They understood a balance that the sea took as much life as it gave. A grim reminder of that lay on the horizon shrouded in fool’s gold. Dark arms of a broken ship that had given in to the sirens of mystery were the first warning, for beyond that was the forbidden island. On it a black monster with objects that the fishermen knew nothing of bellowed out a dark fog that would carry in the wind. It was a dim reminder that the sea had its own secrets and histories that mankind was not allowed to know of.

One such fisherman knew the price of the disobedience of the sea’s sacred law as he pulled the catch from the salty waters. He had known the owner of the boat, and the pain of the loss still dully ached whenever he looked at the mangled form of the boat. So instead the fisherman turned his thoughts to the fish the village would sell. What remained of the fish that wasn’t eaten, would be sold to the traders that came by iron cast barges on the days where the sun stayed longest in the sky. Small fish would be pressed for oils and medicines, shells for the artists, pearls for the rich ladies of unnamed cities, and the larger shells for eating utensils would be crafted with care. All of these would end up on the barges that came when the sun was hot. These were the truths of the village, proved by the massive iron ships that moored.

That was what fisherman knew about the truths of life and nothing else; the young man of seventeen looked to the sea and squinted out to the golden waters as the sun sank. Brown hair hung heavily on the back of his heck, blue eyes focused on the sea, he smiled to himself and spoke softly.

“Tonight will be a good night.” Carefully he looked around, spoting old friends and their boats, they too were expecting a large turnout for the market tomorrow. Iron barges lined the far docks and the voices of different nations barked orders as tents, booths, and tables were set.

Yes, this was the start of something else. Tent smiled and threw his rope to the dockhand. "Tomorrow, can't come fast enough."

It was evening, he knew that much. And as the heat from the setting sun, different to that of the morning, to that of the noon day rays that cast upon his pale skin. Jantha smiled softly as he stood, seeming to look out towards the boats near the horizon. But, for those who knew him, he was simply facing that direction, the dark sunglasses that seemed to fit his young face perfectly served to hide the white, unfocusing eyes, blind.

The wind from the sea, a great salty, fresh, slightly damp breeze, warm in the summer months, as it now was. A deep inhalation from his nose allowed the scent of the sea to fill him, as the light spray hit his face, each tiny droplet of water feeling cool and fresh upon his skin, smooth, clean shaven, the smile was perpetuated across his features. Stood on the docks he was happy, pleased to be so close to that mother who brought forth such great life and sustainance.

Deep within the recesses of his mind, Jantha could almost see the panorama, from a memory unbidden, on the very edge of his awareness, his mind worked hard to bring the image to the forefront, only to fail miserably. But the easy going man was not perturbed by this, supposing it was best he could not call forth that image.

He was not sure when, it was during early childhood, he had lost his sight. All he knew was that the blindness that some considered an ailment, was caused by an illness of some kind, although what illness had brought it about, he did not know. However, as much as not being able to see made some things difficult, he did not see it as an ailment, but rather a gift. If his eyes were operating as they should be, would he truly be focusing on the sounds of the waves crashing, the smell of the salt in the air, the feel of the spray upon his face, the sweet sounds of birds floating overhead, hoping to perhaps get a share of what the fishermen would tonight catch. He doubted he would.

Yes, the fishermen, they would be arriving home soon. And upon their homecoming, Jantha would enjoy and savour the smell of the fish, looking forward to that which he would eat tomorrow. But, for now, he was more than content in standing upon the docks, enjoying the sea. He had heard stories be told of an ancient monster in those waters, great bellows escaping from that beast, striking fear into the hearts of many a sea man. He shrugged at the thought, guessing he was too far to hear such sounds.

Somehow though, he doubted that such beasts could come from something so beautiful as the sea. Then again, how was he to know, having never entered the sea. He allowed those dark thoughts to leave his mind, today had been a good day for him, business was going well. He was lucky to be in such a village, where people did not take advantage of a blind man who was trying to make a living. Rather, the people here would happily come to his Jantha's shop and purchase the pottery he made.

He allowed a laugh of pure glee to fill the air, as yet another strong breeze blew past him from the sea, the spray refreshing and bringing such joy that the laugh had come with no warning.

He loved this place.




Okay, here's my post. In regards to the poem that you took as a sample, you must realise that it was in no way aimed to be a Role Playing post, just simply a piece of writing that was in response to the prompt.

DreadLord wrote: And as the heat from the setting sun, different to that of the morning, to that of the noon day rays that cast upon his pale skin.

I understand where you're going with this, establishing a rhythem, but it's not needed here because you don't see it repeated anywhere else in the post. Because of that, this line feel awkward to read, much less say.

The wind from the sea, a great salty, fresh, slightly damp breeze, warm in the summer months, as it now was. A deep inhalation from his nose allowed the scent of the sea to fill him, as the light spray hit his face, each tiny droplet of water feeling cool and fresh upon his skin, smooth, clean shaven, the smile was perpetuated across his features.

It's alright to have shorter sentences. This whole paragraph is three sentences long when it should be several. Also this paragraph is too wordy. Too many descriptions in one place loses the value of the descripton in whole.

Stood on the docks he was happy, pleased to be so close to that mother who brought forth such great life and sustainance. Watch your tenses. Should be "standing" I'll just assume it was typo.

He was not sure when, it was during early childhood, he had lost his sight.

All he knew was that the blindness that some considered an ailment PERIOD It was caused by an illness of some kind, although what illness had brought it about, he did not know.

Note where I cut off the sentence. It flows better now that two different subjects have their own sentence. The sentence above is a perfect opener to the subject of blindness.

If his eyes were operating as they should be, would he truly be focusing on the sounds of the waves crashing, the smell of the salt in the air, the feel of the spray upon his face, the sweet sounds of birds floating overhead ---

Ok, yes I cut out some of the last bit. We need to focus on this part. This is not too wordy. This is a long run-on that needs to be several sentences ending in "?"'s before bringing the paragraph to an end.

OOC:

Okay, here's my post. In regards to the poem that you took as a sample, you must realise that it was in no way aimed to be a Role Playing post, just simply a piece of writing that was in response to the prompt.

It's the sample you provided me. However after seening this, I’m not sure why you thought you needed to be in the Acad. We normally deal with below par players. Clearly you’re above par; that won’t excuse you from completing the course at this point, there are still things to work on, but did you feel like you had to go through the Academy before going into the RPG forums? It's not a requirement. Alright I'll have your second lesson up soon.


GRADE: 87
LESSON: PASSED
COMMENTS: Very good, I can tell where you hit your stride, work on subtly adding in details. Senses don't need their own paragraph, just a line or two. Your style is well formed, and very easy to work with. I'll give you points for adding in the handicap.

Lesson TWO:
Communication

Like opening, the Promise states that RPGer’s rely on teamwork to complete tasks. This requires interactions between characters, both NPC (non playable characters) and normal players. This can be anything between action or dialogue, or both.

Most times those playing NPCs are not submitting stats for that character, but their role in the RPG is usually is clear. Sometimes not. It’s considered rude to control another person’s NPC. This however should not hinder what you can do to the NPC. No, you can’t force words into their mouth, but you can direct their attention and most times make implied movements. This can include “off stage” movements. Off stage movements means you’re putting a character off to the side to do some menial task that’s apart of everyday life, but not needed to be in the limelight of the RPG.

The same goes with a player. The difference is that you can’t force emotions, actions, or words on another player. The interaction with an RPGer is more implied and less direct.

As technical as all this sounds, it’s not. Just let your writing flow, and reread to make sure you didn’t accidentally force anything.

Your Second Challenge:
~ Speak and interact with one NPC of your own
~Speak and interact with one of my NPCs
~Speak and interact with my character.

Higher Level Goals
~ Direct an NPC to a place or get their attention.
~ Imply that a player needs to follow you somewhere.

~Bonus: Your NPC interaction with my NPC and implying they need to go somewhere “off stage”
[hr]


The rough nets bit into Trent’s hands as he took a hold of his catch. Some of the fish still struggling against the rope net that bound them all together.

“Trent! Turn your rudder to starboard!” Trent jerked and turned his rudder to avoid the boat next to his, the youth sharply startled by the sudden snap from his fantasy world.

“What were you looking at?” growled the other fisherman, whom Trent had almost run into.

”Well, have you ever seen sails like that?” Trent pointed to a shadow coming from the east. Out of the dark, the sun’s rays hit revealed a ship of blood red sails.
Jack ran a hand through his silvery hair and squinted his eyes. “Triangle sail, red sails… That would be a Crasian sail. Only once before I have I seen a sail like that… I wonder if it’s the same one. There are so few of those old ships still sailing… still they work better then what the trader’s use.”

The ship drifted close, true to Jack’s word the warlike ship was smaller then Trent expected. There was no sign of life, nor could Trent tell how old the boat was. The youth’s eyes watched the complex form of the sailing vessel even as the storm clouds grumbled in the darkening sky. A hot wind blew and the air grew still. Trent took his long oar and pushed his boat closer to the docks.
Trent turned his attention back to the sea, the storm clouds growing darker as he watched, and the village men worked. The waves became choppier and more then once Trent had to find something more solid to hold onto. The gold of the sun sank away as the last of the fish were worked into the large rope woven baskets that had been sitting out, waiting for this catch to come to fill them. Still Trent watched.

Trent felt the heavy body of Jack climb aboard his small fishing vessel. Jack shivered once and looked to the ship that sat in the night waters, dripping ocean on Trent’s deck.
“Tell your potter friend that if he doesn’t move away from the side of the docks. He’ll fall in with waves like these, it wouldn't be hard to sweep him off his feet.”
"Come on Jack, just because he's blind doesn't mind he'll fall in. He's got a good sense of where he is."

Trent leap from the boat to the dock and carefully made his way around the tangles of nets to where his blind friend stood, enjoying the sea. Trent smiled; he couldn’t remember a time when Jantha didn’t enjoy the feel of the Mother Ocean.

“Jantha, there’s a dark ship on the horizon. Red sails like the last rays of the sun.” Carefully Trent painted the picture of the ship. “Did anyone say anything in the village of this ship coming to the trade fair?”

“Trent, Jantha,” Jack’s voice interrupted. “Get to the village and tell the elders we have a guest.”