Post by Muse on Mar 13, 2018 12:38:15 GMT -5
The blanket of fog and wet ground makes the Mistwoods feel eerily silent, all noise and nature drowned in soft earth and hanging mist. The limbs of the trees are heavy, their leaves in full flourish and showing signs of wilt. The forest seems to silently groan with illness and fatigue.
The residents of the mistwood are equally as exhausted. All logging has ceased in the Mistwood, with the residents of Valkur’s Roar refusing to go within’ the shroud of the wood. Mushrooms and fungus sprout and thrive in the dampness, springing up to feast on fallen limbs, and rotting flowers. The buzzing of insects has replaced what should be bird song. Spitting Mosquitos clot the air in places, swarming and biting whatever blooded creature moves for a meal.
The heat of the wood is still ahead of its season, the humidity in the air pushing into spring far sooner than the rest of Cormyr. The moss and vines climb from the soft ground, over trees and bushes.
The wood seems mostly diseased from the side closest to Valkur’s Roar, so not the entire forest is ill… yet.
The residents of the mistwood are equally as exhausted. All logging has ceased in the Mistwood, with the residents of Valkur’s Roar refusing to go within’ the shroud of the wood. Mushrooms and fungus sprout and thrive in the dampness, springing up to feast on fallen limbs, and rotting flowers. The buzzing of insects has replaced what should be bird song. Spitting Mosquitos clot the air in places, swarming and biting whatever blooded creature moves for a meal.
The heat of the wood is still ahead of its season, the humidity in the air pushing into spring far sooner than the rest of Cormyr. The moss and vines climb from the soft ground, over trees and bushes.
The wood seems mostly diseased from the side closest to Valkur’s Roar, so not the entire forest is ill… yet.