Letters from Camp

I’ve been tired, but I’m still making good progress on my goal somehow! I nearly burned out on it before I could finish, but I threw some twists into the plot to keep it moving and it really reinvigorated things! So now the gang is in the middle of a fight.

Word Count:  12,560 / 15,000

Excerpt:

“We are not giving Elias the credit for that one,” a small voice joined in, as well as a small green blur darting overhead. Eral stopped to hover with his tiny little crossbow already prepared with another magical bolt. He aimed it down at the group of three with no ounce of fear in his tiny little body. “I’m the sharpshooter here. How’s it going?”

“Ah. The pixie,” the leader of the three said. He fought the surprise off his face and smirked again instead. “We heard about you, too.”

“No autographs, I can barely hold a pen,” Eral shot back. His crossbow tilted slightly as the knife-wielding assassin started to edge to the side. “I wouldn’t try to get shifty with me, either. I’m impulsive, you know, and I’ve heard this thing is painful. Just ask your buddy.”

“Gods above, below, and in between, Eral, you let your head get any bigger and you won’t be able to fly anymore,” Elias chimed in. “Thanks for the save.”

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