I need my head examined. I'm in for NaNoWriMo this year, dog knows why. It's either a way to play around with story, or another artificial goal I can totally fail to meet. Those are the best for self-esteem, I hear.
I'm up to 6000+ words, which is some kinda behind already seeing as November is a quarter over and the goal is 50,000. Just not quite enough behind to give up yet! This is an excerpt:
"All right," their guide said, "Before you get any gear we have to finalize the racial issue. Lady Hess says we can't send an all-human party to Flewellyn, so... who wants to be a dwarf?"
Six blank faces met his gaze. "What's a dwarf?" Nix asked at last. She was beginning to resent being the unofficial question-asker.
"I'm a dwarf," Gregor responded.
"Why would any of us want to be a dwarf?" asked Kay. "You're not serious, are you?"
"Is this an initiation rite?" asked Timon Aspen. "We have those in the patrol," he went on, "but they usually involve stuff like riding sheep in your smalls in winter."
Martil turned to look at him, and he went pinker. "So that's what you were doing with Edgar and Johnnes and Master Willans' ram last winter! You told me you were returning a stray! I had no idea you could dissemble so well, Corporal. I shall have to count my spoons more often, I can see that."
Gregor broke in, "As entertaining as your reminescences are, we are out of time. You, horseboy! You'll be the dwarf. Don't fuss, dwarves make excellent paladins. Now we need an elf," he pointed toward Martil and made a tick on his slate. "And a half-elf..." he looked at Handel. "You are going in for healer, right? Half-elf," with another tick-tap, then turned and pointed at Kay. "Drow. Give your party some contrast. And you, little thief, I see you as a halfling, of course." He smiled. Things were starting to move along.
"What about me?" Fon asked abruptly.
"Lady Hess would have my ears for a necklace if I changed you," he replied. "She sent a note while we were walking here. So if you've always wanted to be a dwarf, you'll just have to go on wanting."
He turned his back to them, snapped a wall plate open and inserted his slate. The air of the archway began to shimmer. "In you go, Noobs!" he shouted, grabbing and thrusting them through.