Total words in novel: 55662
People killed (and decapitated): At least 8 of the enemy.
Mean things done to characters: Mark was horrified by the bloodthirsty behaviour of the women troopers.
Tyop of the day: "Totally astonished to see us, as far as I could tell under all those long bears and hair," Brand said.
"Right..." Mark said, surveying the women from his squadron, as though seeing them properly for the first time. Morwena looked as open and amiable as ever. Alys, the smaller and cuter of the pair, removed her helmet, fluffed up her light chestnut curls and smiled at him. Behind them the other four women looked ever so slightly smug, like housecats that have suddenly revealed their true colours by leaving the corpses of barn rats in their owner's slippers. "Right," Mark said, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "Get out of those wet clothes, the lot of you. There's food left. Tell the cook to heat it up for you. And for Christ's sake, bury those bloody heads somewhere well away from camp. That's an order!" he shouted, as he saw the two women at the back scowl and mutter something to one another.
And not only have I written, I have put a load of washing in the machine and have cycled into town via the river path (exercise!) and bought G a pasty and a yoghurt for his lunch.