This is the content from 2002, the year I actually completed NaNoWriMo.
Bonus Material: The Unrelated Short Story and Part 2
Excerpt Special: The Interview
... This effort occupied Thom for a few minutes. Since I could track his energy signature, I offered helpful suggestions. He was gracious enough not to tell me to shut the hell up.
"Arkana. This kingdom is named Arkana, and the village ahead is Appleton."
"They've got something about the letter 'A', I guess. One wonders if they actually grow apples."
He concentrated for a moment. "There are very old groves of fruit trees in large tracts opposite the town from our location."
I asked, "Does that give you any ideas for how we should approach the villagers?"
"Would posing as fruit afficionados not seem a thin guise?"
Grinning devilishly I answered, "Perhaps, but we aren't being paid to care what these people really think of us. We need information, then we need to move on to our next objective."
Thom smirked a bit. "I was not aware that this job paid at all. In what currency should I expect my salary?" I'll give him credit for a healthy sense of humor, at any rate. Witty banter beats tedious arguing any day of the century.
And so we approached the village at last. Appleton was one of those wide spots in the highway that crop up every so many miles. This one, at least, had a reason for being. A large building bore every sign of being the local apple processing plant. Down the main street a bit we found what seemed to be the local government facility. In other words, the old man kicking back with a mug of apple cider on the front porch wore an intricate badge of office.
"Good, is it?" I asked the gentleman. This earned me a long stare followed by a sort of affirmative grunt. "I take it you press a local variety?"
"Aye, we do. Appleton Sweets are the world's finest drinkin' apples, be it simple juices or something a bit more vigorous you have in mind. Surely you knew this already, seein' as how you strangers walked to our very doorstep for a few pints." Delightful man that he was, I could tell he'd dealt with fast-talking transients before. Stole a march on my own absurd cover story, he did. I could almost feel Thom smirking at me.
Might as well go for broke, I figured. "Can't fool you, can we sir? We're not here for trouble, and I have been known to go out of my way for a warm cider from time to time. I offer in trade one favor within my power to grant in exchange for a bit of information to aid our quest. The cider, of course, I'll pay for in proper coin."
The old man stared at me some more, stroking his stubbly chin and sipping from his mug of cider. "You talk about your 'power' as if it's something more than just a glib tongue. Wizard?"
"I've always preferred the term 'sorcerer,' but whatever makes you happy." ...
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