NaNoWriMo2019 - Progress Report 11/06

Broke 5k!

So I realize now that it may be kind of a major mistake to have the story open with not one but TWO big fight scenes. The first fight is because I wanted to establish the Champion of Champions Tournament with a fight, obviously, but I wanted to wait to introduce Wilhelm. Now that I have introduced him, well I have to have him fight, right? That's kind of what makes Wilhelm Wilhelm. Thinking on that it's probably not great, and I'd probably have to revise something in the next draft. But that is Future Will's problem to deal with! For now I have 5K and we're about to have the meetup between Annice and Wilhelm, then we can get to the real fun...

Note: I want to reiterate that I am doing very, very little editing right now. Basically only going back over the sentence I am actively writing for spelling/grammar mistakes and a mild forethought for some inconsistencies. I know these posts are rough and choppy. If I do end up completing this story I will do a revised first draft and post it all at once in a more readable format.

Fight or Flight - NaNoWriMo2019 11/06

“This here bastard of a man has been the Champion of Chmpions three years running, and fer that he got to sit on his wee little arse and do no such nothin to entertain you fine people today till no. So! Here he be to finally put up and give you all what you want! A fight so great, the Bards will sing of it from now to next harvest! Because lads and lasses, here be his opponent who you watched tear through a half dozen souls and then a couple more… KURAN TUSK TOOTH!”

Kuran entered the arena to thunderous applauds, a reaction he more than earned this day. She pumped her fist in the at, hooting war cries to her fans, who all hooted back to her. She approached Wilhelm and he turned to face her. The semi-finals always had the contestants meet before the match, the crowd all seemed to lean in to watch the two fighters size each other up. Wilhelm was incredibly tall for a Human, but Kuran was still half a fingers length taller than the man. She narrowed her eyes and grinned, the still fresh scar on her face wrinkled in the gesture.

“Now darlin what did Elenra do to you? Wilhelm asked, inspecting the wound, he shifted back and forth giving the impression he too was taciturnly sizing Kuran up. “I’m gonna have a talk with her this night, aint right she mussed up your face like that. You’re beginning to look like me now, ain’t nobody want that! You best talk with yer healer, boy did a terrible job, you get at him to do you a proper healin before it sets proper to you Wilhelm.” Wilhelm did his best to hide his smile.

“I will do that Wilhelm,” Kuran responded, doing her best to hide her affection for the man. “It is not his fault, I told him to save his magics for the day. To use them now, when I faced you, and only on what is important.”

“Get out here, face is important!” Wilhelm said, now taking the time to circle Kuran, who mirrored the posturing. “It’s the money maker, after all. Though I am honored you would save your Healer’s magic for me.”

“I think I win this fight, Wilhelm.” Kuran stopped, and took a fighting stance, Trident out and ready.”

“Yeah? Why do you think that Kury?” Wilhelm lifted his shield and warhammer and took a similar stance.

“I beat you last month in exhibition, was good fight.” Kuran poised herself, waiting for Brisbane’s call.

“It sure was darlin, but that was last month. This is now.” Wilhelm said.

The battle started in a flash, Kuran striking out with her trident, Wilhelm’s shield coming up to deflect the blow. His riposte was swift, pressing up with the shield and swinging in with that hefty hammer at Kuran’s exposed ribs, the blow was glancing at best as Kuran twisted and spun from Wilhelm’s strike. The two backed away and began circling each other, no longer play acting for the crowd now they truly were sizing each other up, each waiting for a faulter or false step, anything to show an opening.

Wilhelm was on the offensive now, charging forward and leaping into the air, Kuran’s trident came, but it merely scraped against the man’s bicep, the armor there deflecting the blow. His own hammer came down hard, and made solid contact with the woman’s hip. Kuran hollered in pain, but kept herself in the moment, pressing into Wilhelm and snaking her arm around Wilhelm’s trapping his weapon hand. She snarled at the man, pain radiating through her side, and lurched forward, driving her forehead into the human’s nose. Wilhelm staggered, and was struck again. The warrior could not free his arm and with the third strike could feel blood gushing from his nose. His legs faultered and he began to go down.

Annice gasped, no way! She couldn’t believe Wilhelm was falling to Kuran again. She had been there the last time these two fought, it was a hell of a match, and while Wilhelm did lose, Kuran was in the Healing House for three days after their match. She leaned against the podium, enraptured with the fight. She fidgeted, and finally discarded her cloak, it was too hot to wear it now in the mid-day sun with all of these people surrounding her. It didn’t quite hit her, or she just didn’t care at the moment, that without the cloak her Clerical Vestments were bared to all. A few people took noticed and stared with confusion and awe at the Cleric of Syrene who had spent the entirety of this tournament shouting and cheering with the vigor of a lifetime fan of blood sport. Annice did not notice these stares, she was focused on the fight.

Wilhelm’s beard was stained from blond to a deep crimson, and he spit the blood that had pooled in his mouth out. Not many men could take the repeated blows of an Orcish headbutt and stand, less so from a Half-Orc as renowned as Kuran… and quite honestly, Wilhelm was not all that stable on his feet anyway. He had managed to jerk his head to the side and thrust it back into Kuran’s fourth blow, giving a little back for what he got, but it wasn’t enough, the blow had caused his ears to start ringing and she was winding up for a fifth. She did hesitate just for a moment, enough for Wilhelm to gain his bearings and pull his shield up, using the edge to bash at Kuran’s shoulder, collar, and neck. After a handful of repeated strikes he finally caught her proper in the throat and she choked and gagged, releasing his arm. Wilhelm took the opportunity to distance himself.

The two stared, Wilhelm wiping blood from his nose and Kuran stroking her throat, and they were on each other again. Kuran drove her trident forward and down, and it sunk into Wilhelm’s leg, he gritted his teeth and let out a guttered scream, pushing past the pain to overhand his hammer down onto Koran, the Half-Orc was driven to one knee from the blow and an audible crack of bone emanated through the arena, following by a sickening pop, and Kuran let out a wail. Her arm hung limp at the shoulder and she frantically pulled away from the hammer blow, releasing the trident. Wilhelm thought he would be given the moment he needed to drive forward and finish this, but in Kuran’s agony she lashed out, instinct taking over, and latched onto Wilhelm’s ankle. The man had only a moment to realize this before he was airborn, hurled though the sky and crashing to the dirt. The trident, which was still buried in his thigh at the time, was wrenched free from the toss, tearing from his flesh, pain radiated from Wilhelm’s face, leg, and back, as well the wind was knocked from the fighter.

The fight seemed ended, neither opponent stirred for a long few moments, but eventually air filled Wilhelm’s lungs and he began to pick himself up from the ground. Kuran as well eventually let the pain stabbing at her shoulder fade to a dull burn, she breathed deep and turned to face her adversary. She growled at him as she took her limp arm and while maintaining eye contact jerked it hard. There was only a singular flinch from the woman as the shoulder sank back into it’s socket, and she seemed to have renewed control over the appendage. Wilhelm stared, he had to admit that was a hell of a display.

Finally pulling himself to his feet, Wilhelm accessed himself… He hurt. His nose was certainly broken, a gaping wound in his leg, and he knew damn well he likely tweaked a muscle in his back and it was gonna bother him all night. He only got two good blows against the Half-Orc, and neither had seemed to do squat. This was all going south real fast, he needed to end this quickly. His gaze shifted to the ground, where he found Kuran’s trident at his feet. He let out a haggard breath and nodded, knowing what he needed to do.

Kuran was confused when Wilhelm kicked the trident to her, Wilhelm by was no means a dirty fighter but attacking an opponent, especially one of greater physical strength, while they were disarmed was certainly not below him. As Wilhelm dropped his hammer and shield, she understood. The wooden shield clattered to the ground, and the hammer thudded shortly thereafter, the weight of the weapon keeping the hilt standing straight. Wilhelm reached to his back, taking the maul and lifting it from the belted hooks that kept it fastened to his back. Bringing it forward he gripped it with two hands. Kuran raised her trident, and for the first time in this fight, felt nervous.

Annice felt her entire body quaking. When Kuran had beaten Wilhelm last month he didn’t have his maul, as that tournament did not allow two handed weapons. Annice actually grinned, as she now knew what was coming. She let out a cheer and joined the audience as they all chanted in unison.

“UNIT!”

“OF!”

“MEASUREMENT!”

Wilhelm charged, letting the heft of his weapon trail behind him. He closed the distance between him and Kuran quickly, and she lanced out, striking at Wilhelm’s throat, seeking to divert the man’s wild charge. Wilhelm instead ducked, feeling the prongs part, and stab into the hair bun, which came undone, tearing a chunk of blond locks with it. Coming under Kuran’s arms now Wilhelm swung, the power of it was amazing. The head of the maul struck Kuran right in the solar plexus and she gasped in the last breath she would be able to take for a long minute. Wilhelm twirled now, using his momentum to bring the hammer around and crashed his weapon into Kuran’s back, right over her shoulder blade. There was an agonizing crunch of bone and a silent scream of searing pain from Kuran. She wasn’t about to allow Wilhelm to have this too easy, as he pulled the hammer back and attempted to gain momentum again she came around and drove her fist into the man’s jaw, blood sprayed from his mouth and into the dirt. He staggered. Kuran pushed her advance and attempted to uppercut but the pain in her back caused the blow to land without any strength. The human raised a hand and shoved the half-orc with all his might, she stumbled, and he took the chance to bring the hammer down and into her knee. The leg twisted and bent in wats bone was not meant to and Kuran went down. Not finished he brought the maul the other way and crushed Kuran’s ribs. She crumpled to the ground. Wilhelm stumbled back, and pressed his maul into the ground for support. He was sweating and his vision had tunneled, his hearing was muted and he was finding it difficult to take breath. All his injuies screamed at him save one, he couldn’t feel the pain in his leg anymore, looking down he saw his pantleg drenched in blood and puddle forming at his foot, his movement had torn the trident wounds open… And Kuran was standing up.

Annice gasped, she never saw anyone stand after receiving a pummeling like that from Wilhelm, and he was in dire shape. He had lost far too much blood, and she could see even from here that the color was rapidly draining from his face. She had almost reached out and cast a healing spell, but caught herself. That would have disqualified Wilhelm. She was marveling at Kuran’s staggering endurance, even as she was feeling a swell of disappointment to see Wilhelm lose to her again.

Kuran made it to her feet, and stared down at Wilhelm. There was nothing but fury in her eyes, and the object of her ire was helpless before her. She struggled with it, but lifted the trident above her head. It seemed an act of the gods itself for the woman to stand, let alone lift her weapon but here she was bearing down on Wilhelm, with what seemed a clear intent to drive her trident into the man’s head. Magical ward or not, that would be a lethal blow, which strictly speaking was not against the rules, just heavily frowned upon. But before she could push forward and drive down, she paused, face twisting into one of concern and confusion. She wavered, stumbled, and the glyph appeared on her chest and burst into life, knocking Wilhelm down to the ground and ending the match.

The crowd lost their collective minds.

NaNoWriMo2019 - Progress Report 11/05

3082 words! Woo! I am feeling very good right now! As I was thinking of this first opening fight, I didn't expect to fall so in love with the characters. All day today while I couldn't write do to work or other obligations (you all better have voted if you're in the US) I couldn't help but design backstories for Kuran and Elenra. I'll likely be using them again in the future. The two were really just supposed to be throwaway characters to introduce the tournament before Wilhelm's introduction. Elenra's ability to cast spells was a completely spontaneous decision, though giving them that ability and a lot of dedication to describing their spell casting means I had to give Kuran the actual win. Seems only fair.

Speaking of Elenra, they proved to be a challenge. They're not the first gender neutral or fluid character I have made, Lane's character backstory was posted here some months ago, but I still find myself slipping on pronouns while writing. It's something I'm training myself to stop doing, and I hope to be better as time goes on. As I progress through NaNoWriMo I'm going to do my best to keep myself from going back and doing edits, so please if you ever see me use an improper pronoun for one of my characters point it out and I will correct it immediately.

Fight or Flight - NaNoWriMo2019 11/05

Elenra wasn’t about to let the half-orc get the upper hand, they leaned into their parry and drove the trident down into the dirt, slipping their hand to the back of their belt. A flash of light glinted off metal as a second weapon appeared in Elenra’s free hand, a dagger that struck Kuran’s face. A howl of pain came from the Half-Orc woman as she staggard back, the crowd bellowed their pproval at first blood.

Annice reeled, the sight of blood turned her stomach, but the battle enthralled her. Sh joined with the crowd in the cheering, letting out a bellow of her own in support of the Half-Orc Kuran. She had seen the woman fight in the past and knew this was only the beginning.

Kuran put some distance between herself and the wood elf, blood now streaking down the side of her face. The blade had missed her eye, but there was now a nasty gash from chin to brow, and she was literally seeing red. The warrior’s eyes narrowed, and she reeled back, bellowing out a roar. She knew she still had the advantage in reach, but that wasn’t what she wanted now, she wanted to get up close and personal.

Storming forward, Kuran came at Elenra like a charging bull. The lithe Elf could have deftly avoided the advance, had Kuran not lashed out with the trident when they did, causing Elenra to falter, and shuffle back… right into a tackle. Kuran took Elenra off their feet and lifted them into the air, trident clattering to the side. The half-orc had the much smaller elf up above her head, ankles between one set of fingers and the back of a neck pinched in the other. Elenra tried to swing their longsword back to find purchase in flesh but there was none to be had, and the dagger could only make small insignificant glances against Kuran’s powerful forearms. Kuran held the Elf aloft for some seconds, the crowd frothing with jeers and applauds at the display, before finally arching back, and lurching forward, using all of her great might to slam the Elf into the dirt. The crowd let out a cooing groan in unison as the dust rose around Elenra’s body.

Kuran turned from her opponent, trudging along the dirt towards her trident. Being without a weapon on the battlefield was generally a bad idea but, at this moment, Elenra didn’t exactly have a handle on their weapons either. The stinging in Kuran’s arm told her that Elenra’s dagger had made a few significant wounds after all but it did little to stop her masterful grip of the weapon. Turning back, she grinned and watched as Elenra was only now starting to stir, groaning in pain and in a daze. The half-orc woman stalked up to the Elf, slowly, casually, boasting in her victory. She raised the trident just as Elenra snapped into focus, but it was too late. Kuran watched the elf raise their hands defensively in a reflex, completely neglecting to take up their arms, which was the only defence the elf had.

Or so Kuran thought.

From Elenra’s outstretched hand came a gout of flame roaring from their fingers. The immense heat washed over the crowd all the way up to the third balcony, like walking into a hot summer day. Kuran stumbled and scrambled away, hands on her face as she shrieked, trident clattering into the dirt. She stumbled to the ground and rolled desperately, when she was done her face was now soot covered and ashy brown, and she could smell burning hair. She didn’t know that Elenra was a spell caster, and now she was without her weapon and staring the elf down as they rose to their feet.

Elenra had not exactly turned the tabled, more-so evened the playing field. They were still groggy, their entire backside ached like the skin itself had split, and the world wobbled in their vision. It was a miracle they were able to pull the arcane spell from their mind and cast it as they did. But they stood firm, feet finding the ground and the world’s spin slowing to a dull throb in her vision. They only evened the playing field but they could, if they made the right move, turn the tide.

Elenra took one strong step forward and searched their inner mind for the spells they had stored there this dawn, concentration was difficult but they were a warrior and this was not the first time they had cast a spell in battle nor the first time they did so while in agony. They found the spell. The Wood Elf brought their hands together index finger to index finger, ring with ring, and pinkies straight ahead. The middle fingers curled in towards the palm and met at the knuckles, with the somatic gesture complete Elenra let out a Power Word in the language of the arcane and the world rippled. Wind from nowhere seemed to blast Elenra in the face, lifting their hair aloft as she chanted her power words, turning their gaze to the Half-Orc

Kuran’s eyes widened in shock and not an insubstantial amount of fear. She leapt to her feet and sprinted for her trident, she needed to interrupt the spell! Fingers reached out and she nearly had the weapon, but the very earth cracked between her digits and the shaft of the weapon, shifting the trident away from her. Reeling from the crack Kuran turned back to Elenra’ who stared with wide and wild eyes, and a face of intense concentration. The magical energies ripped through them as they continued the spell’s power word chant. Another crack formed to Kuran’s other side, the earth itself splitting and separating. Another formed in front of the Half-Orc, and again behind her, at which point the very ground Kuran stood upon sank, and the warrior faultered as they fell with the earth and collapsed into a newly formed pit ten feet deep. She shook her head, slightly dazed and at that moment noticed she could no longer hear the crowd and could not discern whether it was due to the cacophony of magically shifting stone or if they had simply all gone silent. She raised her gaze to the lip of the pit, where she could see Elenra move into the second phase of the spell. Kuran

Elenra’s hands split from each other, taking on a new somatic gesture. Now the ring fingers curled in toward the palm and all other fingers lay outstretched. New words of power boomed through the Elf’s throat as she drew her hands back together, and the earth began to move again. Now the pit that had been formed was shrinking, closing in on all sides. Elenra noticed, out of the corner of their eye, that the trident was caught in the shifting rock and was being dragged to the pit but paid it no mind. Even if the trident fell it would do Kuran no good once she was encased in an ever shrinking stone coffin, besides it was not like they could do anything about it as they moved through the delicate spell weaving. They paid it less mind when the weapon finally did fall, only noting that it might as well be a parting gift, the War Heroine buried with her weapon, fitting. The pit shrank and soon it would all be over.

A shrieking bellow of a warcry blasted out of the pit, followed shortly thereafter by Kuran, trident in hand. In the last moments before the pit swallowed her she had managed to grasp her weapon and used it and her tremendous strength to vault free of the hole. Soaring though the air with rage in her eyes she bore down on the elf and felt the sickening resistance against her palm as the trident sunk into flesh. The weight of the Half-Orcish woman dragged the elf down to the ground and the trident’s prongs sank further, a gurgling scream the only response from Elenra.

The world slowed for a moment, it passed in a breath but felt as long as half a day. Upon Elenra’s chest a glowing glyph of warding formed and the magical protections afforded to them by the Tournament flashed into life, pulling the trident from their torso, and pushing Kuran away in a harmless, but quite forceful burst of power. A killing blow detected by the Glyph marked the end of the battle and Elenra’s healer, a Cleric of the Order of Verkal the God of Mercy, was already sprinting out to aide Elenra as Brisbane’s voice boomed once again across the arena.

“Aye now that was a fight!” He called as he walked to the center of the arena. “Lads and Lasses give it up for these absolutely mad fighters! Elenra Silma Greenbloom!” He gestured his hands towards Elenra, who was groggily coming to as the wounds in their torso closed as the holy magic of their healer walked through them. They waved weakly as the crowd exploded in their appreciation for them. “And of course, winner of this match and movin on to the next round… KURAN TUUUUSKTOOOOOOTH!” The crowd let out an even greater cheer for the Half-Orc as she leaned against her Trident and her own Healer tended to the wounds she received. She pulled her still bleeding arm from the healer’s grasp and raised it triumphantly into the air.

Annice felt hot faced, and pressed the back of her palms against her cheeks to attempt to cool them. What a fight! She felt almost exhausted just watching it, and nearly screamed herself hoarse when Elenra had started casting spells! There was not a moment of shame in her now as she wailed out in cheer and jubilation, and that was only the first fight! The tournament continued on like that with each fight seemingly more grand than the next. Annice had watched all the warriors here fight at least a dozen times over the seasons, but this was so different. The vigor and ferocity they all fought with was palpably different. This was a Champion Tournament and that meant a bigger prize pot than a simple exhibition tourney, but more than that it meant glory. For Annice it meant a slight bit of frustration for one special reason. As it was an official Champions event, it meant that the victor of last yea’s Champions was automatically entered into the semi-finals, and last year’s Champion Victor was her favorite fighter. So when the first match of the semi-finals at last came, Annice found renewed energy in her tormented throat to lead the cheer for her favored champion.

“Oy now this here gent needs no introduction to be sure!” Brisbane bellowed. “But it be me job to do it and I know he loves to hear his own name!” The dwarf laughed. “Here he is to fight for you all… The Hero of the People, victor of tournaments all across the realm, and last years Champion of Champions, it is WILHELM THE UNYIEEELDIIIING!”

Wilhelm stepped into the arena, and the arena was deafening. He brushed a hand through his golden hair, and shifted to one foot, raising his hand in greeting to the people. Wilhelm was very handsome, with a golden mop of golden hair tied into a tight bun at the back of his skull and sheered on each side. Short bearded and square jawed, and with eyes of emerald color. The only thing that marred his otherwise pristine features were a set of three parallel scars that trained from his forehead down his face, two ending at his brow and one circling around his eye, a memory of a very close call. He was adorned in black trousers and sturdy leather boots. A brownish red tunic peeked out from under his breastplate which linked to his shoulder pauldrons. Strapped to his waist was a rather large Warhammer, and to his back an even bigger maul. Fans would know that maul as the Unit of Measurement, because that’s what it was.

NaNoWriMo2019 - Progress Report 11/04

Alright I got a late night start for this one, but I banged out just over 1000 words and I'm super excited. I so far only have this opening sequence in my head, Annice arriving at the Tournament and watching it, despite it being against her Church's ideals. Annice is a character created by my Fiance, to be a companion to one of my characters, who you will be meeting shortly. I'm not patting myself on the back just yet, I'm four days behind at the start and I did half of what I probably should have, but I'm happy, and excited to keep writing.

And no that's not a mistake, Elenra is gender neutral.

Fight or Flight - NaNoWriMo2019 11/04

Annice knew she wasn’t supposed to be here, she knew that, but that wasn’t about to stop her. She shuffled forward with the crowd, bumping against a man here, a woman there. She twisted her head as a small child began to wail next to her ear before being pulled away by a shushing parent. She felt that exhilarating mix of excitement and fear. A gasp near came to Annice as the crowd began to move in earnest, she hoped it would continue to the end, here before the entrance to the arena was too open, and she might be seen. The woman did her best to hise her vestments beneath a dark cloak, but her blonded hair and pointed ears were somewhat noticeable to anyone in her order, and if some of her more strict compatriots found her, it was certain they would rush off to rat on her, what would she do then? The thoughts caused her stomach to pit, but even still the thrill that rushed through her immediately after near made the idea appealing.

Annice was a Cleric, a holy woman sworn to a Deity, and not just any Deity, she was sworn to serve Syrene, the goddess of Peace, Tranquility, and Equilibrium. The Lady in the Grove, Mother of Babbling Brooks, and Protector of Glades, so the fact that she was here of all places was quite a scandal to say the least. She couldn’t help it, though, she was drawn to this place. At first she said it was a simple curiosity, she came to see what the fuss was about, and expected truly to mock and condemn it. That didn’t happen. She went again, to better understand the possible appeal, which she certainly wasn’t feeling… Then again just to give it one more look before never seeing it again. Of course, that was three winters past and she hadn’t stopped.

The crowd finally moved far enough that Annice was passed the entry gates, beyond the gaze of anyone who wasn’t already taking in the same revelry that she was, and all concern vanished. She was now surging forward, pushing through the crowd, bouncing between persons with the grace of a dancer, all to find the best vantage point for what was about to come. Soon enough Annice was pressed against the podium, looking down into the arena proper, excitement filled her and the roar of the crowd pushed her beyond her breaking point, she could contain herself no longer and she hollered out in a wooting howl, crying out her excitement! No sooner did she start her screaming that a well tailored Dwarvish man with a well oiled bear stepped out into view. He placed a wand against his throat and spoke.

“LADS AND LASSES, AND ALL THOSE BEAUTES IN BETWEEN! Are ye ready to see some action?” The Dwarf’s voice was amplified by the spell stored in the wand, his words carrying out over roaring crowd, who responded by exploding in even greater shouts and screams. “Sounds like ye are!” The Dwarf said, cackling in bouts of laugher. “Well I be yer Master of Ceremonies for this here event, Brisbane Rubblemaker and I’d like to say to all ye out there welcome to the Cove Colliseum, and this here seventeenth annual Lapis Cove Championship!” Brisbane held back to let the crowd react to his words.

Annice’s heart nearly burst from her chest, her mind was racing, and she felt just a little bit dizzy. Championship. Since she began sneaking away to the arena, she had been unable to see any of the major events, only being able to get away from the temple without suspicion during exhibitions. But here she was, at one of the biggest shows of the year, she let out another holler that she was certain ruptured the eardrums of the gentleman beside her, she would have normally felt terrible, but she was too taken in the moment.

“Alright ye fine folk, enough of me yappin about here, you did’n come to see ‘ol Brisbain, pretty as I be!” Brisbane paused for the woots and laugher. “Who’s here for action!?” An absolute explosion of cheers erupted from the crowd. “Who’s here for blood!?” Another eruption. “And who’s. Here. For. Gloooooooory!” The crowd was deafening for a full minute, Brisbane began to back away from the audience, slipping out of the arena. “Then let’s have at it! The first two fighters, enter the ring!”

From opposite sides of the arena two entered. The first was a half orc woman, broad shouldered and skin like that of a ripe olive, vibrantly red hair struggled to stay tied behind her head, resenting the strip of leather that kept it from its freedom. She brandished an impressive looking trident, raising it high and belted out in a guttural language a battle cry .

“From the Vagrant Plains,” Brisbane called from somewhere beneath the arena “the Bared Knight, the victor of the Cleansing War, the Herione of the Battle of Pride Falls! KURAN, TUSKTOOTH!”

The second warrior was decidedly different from their opponent. An Elf, Wood not High by the looks, umber skinned, and smooth as all elf flesh seems to be. They brought up a longsword of startling beauty up into  a formal military salute.

“And from the Forlorn Forrest, the Master General of the Lost Army of Thul, killer of the Red Wyvern Bloodclaw! And wielder of the Eye of Grimdar! Elenra Silmar GREEEEEENBLOOOM!”

The crowd let out another cheer and the battle began. The two warrioes sprinted at each other with Kuran attempting the first strike Elenra’s longsword was impressive, but the Trident still had the advantage of reach. Kuran skid to a halt just as the two were about to meet and let the prongs lance out, the metal of the shaft gliding through her fingers for near the entire length, where the Half Orc gripped tight, and thrust her weight forward. Elenra nearly didn’t see the stroke coming, not expecting such speed from an opponent so bulky, with a twist, a sudden shift of weight, and a slightly less than graceful hop, the Wood Elf shifted their blade down between two of the prongs, allowing their weight to deflect the blow. The crowd roared as the sound of metal against metal rang out, the fight had begun.

NaNoWriMo 2019

The writing blog has be a wonderful failure at getting me to write! Not that it's the blog's fault, of course, being an incorporeal collection of data on some server somewhere. I'm not making excuses, I lacked the motivation to stick to my challenge. Life, etc. I'm not giving up though, this blog was made for the express purpose of forming a habitual writing cycle, and that is what it shall do. All I need is to light a new fire under my ass, and thus I am announcing...

NaNoWriMo 2019!

Fanfare, fireworks, yada yada.

So I started this blog by mentioning NaNoWriMo, if you remember. How an unnamed author's remarks about it, coerced out of them as they were, struck me hard. Well it's time to put those words to bed by stepping up and taking part in this years NaNoWriMo. I haven't actually participated in years but now I'm taking the plunge. Now, I hear you thinking (yes I can read your mind) 'NaNoWriMo started four days ago, aren't you a little late to the party?' And yes, yes I am. I had an extended holiday with my fiance and was unable to start until today. A great weekend by the way, I highly recommend getting a fiance, they're great. Starting late just means I'm going to have to write more... Even more so since I'm starting way later than I wanted to today (can't blame that on a holiday.)

So, my plan is to participate in NaNoWriMo, post it all here, as well as document and log my word count and progression. I have a rough, very rough, idea of what I want to write and where I want it to go, the road there is gonna be long and I imagine we'll hit a few bumps along the way. I'm gonna stick to it, though, and hey who knows I might even finish the damn thing. Would be nice.

So, fire lit and my ass is heating up, let's go.