In Honor of NaNoWriMo I'm Submitting the Laziest Post Ever.

Yes, November is National Novel Writing Month, in which countless aspiring authors attempt to write a novel in thirty days. To those eight people that succeed, my hats off to you. To the rest, I'm "write" there with ya. Well, not exactly. I'm not attempting to write a novel at the moment. November contains the most historically successful dates for deer hunting, so I'm doing that whenever I have the chance. I did however start a novel earlier this year. Unfortunately I let life take over and abandoned it after several chapters.
I submit to you, the prologue.

Roots snaked up around his legs and torso, lashing out with their tendrils to entrap his arms.  Unseen weaves of energy sought to block him from the magical flows from which he drew his power.  Thrashing wildly, he hurled mage fire, desperately seeking to destroy the living vines that ensnared him, while simultaneously waging an unseen battle of will to maintain control of his magic.  Gouts of rock and soil lashed through the air as blast after blast struck ineffectually into the earth around him.  Trees and rocks alike shattered under the impact of mystic bolts of fire.  One vicious burst found its mark and splinters of wood lanced out in all directions.

     Bellowing in pain and rage, he clawed at his face, striving to dislodge the shrapnel embedded in his eye. Jerking the offending shard free he searched in vain for his enemies as more and more cords of root twined around his body.

      Half blinded by his own savagery, he lay about him in a relentless barrage of magical flame.  Unfortunately the pain caused his focus to waver and knots of magic drew tight about him.  His frenzied onslaught ceased immediately and the creeping vines pulled tight, holding him immobile.

     Like wraiths emerging from a fog, his four assailants materialized from the forest around him.  He watched as they approached him boldly, knowing they had nothing to fear now that he was cut off from the mystic energy.  As they drew near he could sense the one holding the spell which prevented his use of magic.  He knew that unless his bonds were released, he was at their mercy.  He also knew mercy would not be high on their list of priorities this day.

I have about thirty pages written I think. Maybe one day I'll resume the effort. Who knows.