W1K

It's official--I've now officially overrun all previously existing materials on Wetsilver. I completed a thousand words last night, finishing the chapter, but again, that productivity was boosted somewhat by several unexpected passages I found in earlier drafts I was able to use with minimal changes.

"Glorious Tvůrce, Creator of All, please accept this humble offering from your humble servants." The Knez cupped one hand gently against the underside of the goat's neck, the other over the back of its neck. The goat jerked sharply, but did not bleat. Blood began to ooze from between the Knez's fingers. First a few drops, then a trickle. The blood streaked the Knez's arm and goat's legs crimson, pooling in the altar's shallow stone basin. The goat wobbled slightly, then stooped down to its knees.

Jachym adjusted his grip, watching with interest. He'd never seen a blood sacrifice before. His Matka had taken him and his sisters to the Kostel before--several times in fact--but they'd never been on a feast day.

The warm blood filled the basin, finding its way to the drain spout. A tiny rivulet flowed through it to fall, drop by drop, into the wetsilver font below. Each bloody droplet flared and sparked as it struck the wetsilver, and an ethereal flame crept over the surface of the font.

I tried starting the next chapter, but sleep deprivation coupled with uncharted literary territory tripped me up just a few sentences in. I've had a very productive start--I've logged more than 14,000 good words in something like a week and a half, which is more than I had any reason to hope. But now the hard part starts, since I've reached the point in the narrative where my forward momentum has stalled out several times before. Hopefully this time around I've gotten it right, and we'll finally see what's in store for Jachym once he gets out of Neu Braclev.

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