The Jeweled Serpent - Live Writing!

     "He went this way."  One of the guards pointed down the darkened street of Drygate.

     "You had best be sure," the second guard snarled.  "If he gets away, it will be us on the stone for certain."

     Neither took note of the old washer woman, bent with age and struggling to hang her wash.  The two men hurried down the street looking for their prey.  The woman watched till they turned around the corner then pulled a bag from beneath the wet laundry.

     Khor had not had long, but the old woman had been more than happy to let him hang her laundry in exchange for the use of her cowled cloak.  He slipped back through the stone door and winked at her as he handed her the garment.  "I hung a fair bit of it.  You take care, elder.  I would hate for you to run a foul of those guards."  He slipped a piece of medure into her hand.  "That should keep you fed for a good while.  Just tell the trader, you found it in the sewer."

     The woman looked up at him; her eyes blank from years in the dark underground city.  "You be the one best be careful.  The priests' guards do not give up easily, and there is but one way out of the city."

     "I will try to avoid their arms."  Khor  kissed her hand gallantly and after checking the street, slipped out the door.

I did it! NaNoWriMo Winner!

I am so excited to have achieved this goal.  Those waiting for The Bloodmines will be happy to know that the novel I was working on for it was Bloodmines.  50k words in a month is a lot of words but what I discovered is that I can easily write about 5K words a day if Chemo is not pulling to hard on me.   Now that I know this, I can structure my writing for more.  I have been getting messages like, "write faster" and "scanning for the next book often."   It makes me even more motivated to get this book out.  It is not coming as fast as I would like this time.

The Trench Lord

A taste of the world of Vesta, more after the jump:

Sordith sat in his chair pondering the reports in front of him.  The beautiful wooden desk was ornate and made of a deep red wood.  It had been polished till it glistened in the flicking torchlight.  His office walls held his collection of various weapons and treasures from both the isle and the otherlands.  The crackling of the fire was the only noise as the Trench Lord sat pondering the last week's figures.  Sordith sat with a mug of dark mead as he stared at the reports.