Thoroar gave a slightly solemn nod when Cohanna expressed her disappointment at the fact she could not so readily be pointed at the killer. The corporal then reassured her with the words. “The wheels of justice do sometimes turn slowly but they are turning I assure you.” His eyes turned to Kamira periodically, unlike her he did not have the luxury of being able to focus on a single person, but it was clear he had noticed her looking at him in that strange way of hers. Unfortunately he could not work out why she was so interested, what was clear though was that he was on to her. But linked too this was caution and mistrust and though he prevented that from being apparent any creature with two brain cells to knock together could guess that was the case. For that matter he hardly trusted Cohanna either, he would help her with her case but he was difficulty working out just where he stood with her. His suspicion was only heightened at her hearty laugh when she was called trouble. People who laughed in agreement when they were essentially called dangerous, possibly even lethally so, were dangerous indeed. Not only that they tended to be one of two things, either very clever or very stupid. Stupid because they were foolish enough to make their danger obvious or clever because they knew through planning, trickery, ability and connections they could either get out of trouble or avoid ever getting in it and their position was so secure they could afford to brag a little. Just looking at her she seemed more likely to be clever than stupid. Clever, polite, armed, he really did not like this. He preferred simply thugs, you knew where you were with a simple thug. Straight uncomplicated criminals who were delt with in a straight uncomplicated manner. Still, he ought to embrace complexity, complexity got you noticed, perhaps even respected and trusted and he needed that right now.

When she revealed just what she was and why she was here Thoroar was tempted to start correcting her and laying out just what would happen but he stopped himself. What he had to say might anger them and here he was outnumbered, possibly out skilled and in very hostile territory. He would wait until he was in the watch house before saying anything risky. Her shrug when told the fact she could not take justice into her own hands worried the corporal. To him it signalled he idea that she would comply with the law so long as it suited her and her own idea of justice and morality. As soon as those laws stood in her way she would fight them. Thoroar however, believed in the absolute letter of the law and knew you could not opt out of those laws which did not suit you and as such he would resist Cohanna and her friend if necessary. A little while later, when they had reached the watch house Cohanna very nearly started a fight, simply by reaching for her sword everyone instantly went on edge and reached for their own weapons. All that was accept the troll who simply looked at the woman, expressionless, then again a troll never needed to look threatening, they just were. But thankfully nerves slowly relaxed, seemingly on all sides, and business returned to normal. It was at this point that Thoroar vanished into the bowls of the building with his prisoner and the pair were left with Cheery the dwarf.

Unfortunately Cohanna made another blunder almost instantly in pointing out Cheery’s open femininity in that way it sounded like she was mocking her. At least Cheery took it that way. Had Cohanna simply said, good day miss, or hello madam, essentially acknowledging womanhood but not pointing it out things might have gone better. Instead this reaction was provoked. “What, and that’s a problem is it! I would have thought you would have understood! You are as bad as those deep downers!” The bearded lady continued to reprimand the pair. “Next you will be saying I’m not a proper dwarf eh! Besides I’m not little, your too big. We dwarfs are perfectly sized!” Detritus, the troll in the corner, at last realised something was up and began to lumber slowly forward. He could run if he had to but the point was trolls did not need to run they could take all the time they wanted. Looming over the dwarf like a mountain he grumbled in tones like falling rocks. “Are these people causing a problem?” It showed how far he had come that he no longer started most of his words with a gratuitous grunts or d sounds but the bouncer inside him was still obvious. Cheery just shook her head stating. “Nah that’s all right Detritus. I am sure these ladies realise just how unwise it is to annoy the watch.” There were a few moments of silence to let the words sink in before Cheery finished by adding in a casual manner. “If what you say is true then the watch will give the case it’s full attention as soon as man power permits. Please be patient.” With that she returned to her work, not even bothering to check the ledgers or any other kind of paper work anymore. Indeed the description fell on deaf ears. Well not entirely, even though she was not yet in the room Sally heard it perfectly. If she could listen to a heart beat many rooms away she could listen to conversation too.

Sally knew the werewolf would not take kindly to her, werewolves never did, at least not at first. But she was a tad surprised at Cohanna’s willingness to shake her by the hand so speedily. Sally felt the firmness of her grasp and squeezed back just as hard. After all she knew the importance of these tiny, unmentioned displays. However, turning her attention back to Kamira she simply smiled and said. “No need to be worried, I am a black ribboner after all.” The black ribbon was a society which had recently started up in Uberwaldand even more recently spread to Ankh Morpork. It came about after vampires started getting tired of having stakes driven through their hearts or having wedges of lemon shoved into their mouths and then having their heads cut off. Essentialy the black ribbon existed to make vampires more socially acceptable and the groups motto was ‘not one drop.’ Upon joining members had to vow never to feast on human blood ever again. This significantly reduced the number of torch wielding mobs at their gates but several hundred years of predation is hard to wipe off of the social conscience. Of course forging blood had its drawbacks, the first was an addiction issue. Vampires were born addicted to blood and could never ever get rid of it. Instead the best they could do was poor this addiction and craving somewhere else. Some took up smoking, others drank huge amounts of coffee. Others became prolific poets and so on. Really it could be anything, Lady Margolata had secretly poured her addiction into the pursuit of power over others. No one ever said they had to be nice. The second major drawback was that all but the most iron willed tended to go a little insane without blood. A vampire who superseded their will for long enough was liable to snap at any moment but most just developed bizarre eccentricities instead. The third major drawback was weakness. True a black ribboner was still much more powerful than most, they were generally stronger and tougher than anything bellow a troll and a lot faster but a vampire that still fed on blood could soundly beat them. Not only that but they were more vulnerable to sudden flashes of very bright light which would promptly reduce them to dust much like a stake to the heart. So common was this problem that black ribboners even carried a vial of animal blood and a small card reading. ‘Help, I have crumbled and I can’t get up. Please sweep me into a heap and crush vial. I am a black ribboner and will not harm you. Thanking you in advance.’ Instructions which, if followed would promptly restore them back to full health.

Sally opted to remain quiet when Cohanna said how pleasant it was to meet new people, instead she just smiled and looked over at Thoroar who, by looking at Cheery, was rapidly realising that things had not gone well. He even went so far as to successful guess in his own mind just what the problem was. He just went “Ahh.” He knew Cohanna had little chance of getting help directly from Cheery for some time, dwarfs were very good at bearing grudges and it would take an order from a higher up to get her to help. In an attempt to work around this Thoroar simply asked. “Might I look at the incidents ledger Cheery?” The Dwarf just looked at the corporal, then at Cohanna, then oddly enough at Sally before turning back to her work and saying. “I am sure nothing in there can help you?” Which was an unsubtle code for no. Normally she was happy, dedicated and helpful but there were a few things that could set her off. That combined with the fact that he and Sally were regarded as something akin to the plague in this station and things did not look good for Cohanna and Kamira. But Thoroar was not willing to give up just yet, neither was Sally for that matter. Heading towards the door to the outside world Thoroar gestured for them all to follow.

Once back in the open, though in no way fresh, air the corporal immediately began talking to Sally in earnest as the two continued to sip on their coffee. “The streets are cold. Without the incidents ledger canvassing for witnesses and patrolling the streets for this guy would be useless?” Sally gave a single firm nod. “Agreed. What about the beggars guild, they know almost everything that happens in this city’s streets.” Thoroar just shook his head. “You are getting ideas above your station. Queen Molly would never talk to us, she only talks to Vimes directly and if the other beggars blab punishment can be severe. She even has foul old Ron scared in that sense. Same goes for the seamstresses guild.” Sally began to look visibly agitated “What kind of society allows beggars to call themselves queens and allows whores and leeches to demand audience with the highest lawman in the land?” “This one.” Was the corporal’s blunt reply, then after a moments consideration he added. “We could talk to Fred, he generally knows what is going on even if he does not understand it.” Then adding in a higher, slightly comic tone in a mock effort to entice Sally. “He has doughnuts.” Sally sighed and shook her head “Fat old Fred? Seriously?” The with a slightly cheeky smile “And doughnuts? Do you know me at all?” Thorara just laughed at this and said. “He’s a good man and he is not so old now then is he.” He leant towards sally with a little smile of his own whilst she leant in and narrowed her eyes before whipping a hand up like greased lightning and ceasing his nose. She could have broken it easily but instead she just tugged it side to side in a slight fully playful manner before releasing him and stepping back. Thoroar could have fought back just a playfully and entered into a friendly shoving match but decided against it. Now was not the time. With all the options the two had ruled out only one was really left “Drum?” Said Thoroar. “Drum” replied Sally and moving off they waved for their new friends to follow them.

The Mended Drum was easily the roughest and most violent tavern on the entire disc. It was rare that a fight was not occurring inside and the watch had long ago given up trying to stop what went on inside. Nowerdays they just tried to stop it spilling out onto the street. However, the Drum was also the premier hide out for the cities outlaws or those associated with them and every so often the watch would have to raid the place, grab some men and get out again. Failing that the bartender often knew almost everything else there was to know. It was outside the door of this most disreputable of establishments that the group now found themselves. There were two bouncers in front of the door, well one and a half. One of the two seemed perfectly fine but the other seemed far worse for ware. He was lying on the ground, a steady stream of blood pouring from various orifices, a few teeth on the ground, several deep cuts and evidence of the odd broken bone and no one much seemed to notice, this was all standard for the drum. Thoroar looked over at Cohanna and Kamira lent in an explained slowly and clearly. “There are four types of people in the drum. Firstly there are people cowering in the corners, people who wandered into the drum not knowing what to expect, leave them alone. Secondly there are people just sitting down having a drink or who will instantly stop fighting when we walk in. Leave them alone, they tend to be tough, well connected and smart enough not to piss off the watch also some of them may be informants. Thirdly there is staff, always behind the bar or upstairs. Leave them alone. Fourthly there is everyone else, beat the living hell out of them. We carve a path to the bartender then Sally and Cohanna talk to him. Myself and Kamira will work crowd control. Now three rules. No edged weapons, even if they use a knife or some other form of blade. Only use your own if your death seems imminent or I will be forced to arrest you under the deadly weapons act. Note that as amended that act also includes the offensive use of claws, horns, larger than normal teeth or any other pointed or edged body part specifically designed for the purpose. Rule two, no deaths what so ever. Rule three, when questioning the bartender Sally must hear everything you say. That will help with any evidential concerns as well as give the bartender the face saving excuse he needs to talk.” He looked at the two in stern silence for a few moments to make sure they understood before positioning himself right next to the door.

“1..2..3” He counted before suddenly bursting through with such force he almost took the thing clean off of its hinges. “Watch!” was the first word out of his mouth, he had barely cleared the door way when the first bottle sail towards his head. Snapping his hand up he caught it by the neck and instinctively brought it crashing down on the nearest person causing them to stagger. This was instantly followed by him punching his surprised opponent square in the nose as the corporal also took a firm step forward, following through totally. Not only did it brake his nose but also swept him clean off of his feet and sprawled him across the floor. Some of the wiser clientele were already taking seats by the wall and ignoring the inevitable brawl. “Lay down any weapons you may have and return to your drinks.” By now he had gotten out of the door way allowing others in. He started moving towards the bar when three men blocked his path. One had a knife and he came at the corporal first. Unfortunately for the knife wilder a stool has longer reach and Thoroar quickly seized one and brought it smashing down on his assailants head, knocking him out cold. Surging forward he shoulder charged one opponent, sending him to the floor where upon the corporal stamped upon his head several times but not so hard as to break bone. The third attacker he foiled simply by catching his wrist as the man punched drunkenly forward. Thoroar then used this grip to toss the man backwards towards Sally who caught him with a smile and wordlessly head butted the man so hard he passed out, it was good to be a vampire. Whilst Thoroar was no busy standing his ground and occupying the crowd Sally pushed towards the bar, only one man got in her way and he swiftly regretted it. Before he could even pull back for a punch she had seized his forearm and squeezed it so hard the bone cracked. The man sunk to his knees screaming, blood rushing out from between Sally’s fingers and hints of tiny bone fragments protruding through the skin. She then slowly and gently took a hold of his hair before slamming his face into the bar three times and casting him aside like some bloody and mangled rag doll.

The bartender seemed totally unphased by this and slowly drew two pints which he placed on the counter for Sally and Cohanna. “Compliments of the house ladies. Now the watch and their friends don’t come here for a nice chat. I am always willing to help the watch, what can I do you for?” His voice sounded like he had stolen it from a troll, it was so rough and gravely as well as outright abused. Indeed he looked abused. Then again this man had been stabbed, crushed, bludgeoned

The wizards of Unseen University, or UU as it was more commonly known, would have been fascinated by Cohanna. Not because she was a successful barbarian, far from it, wizards cared little for the outside world. They would have been interested in her ability to see death. Only wizards, witches or other magically gifted people could see death, before they died. Perhaps she was such a magically gifted person but simply did not realise it yet. They would also have been interested in the fact she had met death during his motorcycle riding incident, a spill over from the birth, and death of the band, music with rocks in. When death was temporarily deprived of his much beloved horse Binky. Death had tried to use skeletal hoses brimming with fire before now but he found them massively impractical. He had to carry on stopping every few miles to wire the bones back into place and his cloak kept catching fire. So instead he used a good old fashioned flesh and blood horse. The musical style of the band still exist on the disk today however in bands such as &U, Insanity, Led Balloon and The Surreptitious Fabric.

Indeed Kamira too would have been of great interest, there were elves and there were werewolves on the disc but there had never been an incident of the two breeding, though it was in theory possible. Though she would have been of less interest to the wizards of UU and more interesting to the thieves and assassins guilds, after all imagine the possibilities that that races combined could offer. That was of course assuming she got the best of both, if she got the worst of both she could be somewhat less than average but this was unlikely.

Back in the shades the young corporal thought he was about to stabbed, especially when the woman in front of him encouraged a second woman to emerge from the shadows behind him and if the first woman was anything to go by the second was also heavily armed, or at least dangerous. One of his hands moved towards his sword but he would not cease it until it was clear blood was about to spilled. None the less being surrounded in the Shades was a very bad thing, curse the Uberwald dignitaries were it not for them he would have a partner right now. He looked around but he did so very cleverly, rather than turn around and ignore the woman in front of him he instead darted around with only his eyes looking in any reflective surface available so he could see both Kamira and any potential escape root. Unfortunately only a very dirty window was available and so all he could really see was various shades of dirt and a vaguely humanoid figure moving up silently behind him.

Putting his full attention back onto the woman in front of him Thoroar sized her up as she spoke. A combination of polite and heavily armed was rarely a good one. It put him in mind of a vampire being ever so polite and welcoming but smiling just a little too much for comfort. He swiftly mentally scalded himself for thinking this, not because it was unfair on Cohanna, it was not. But because it was unfair on vampires. But that was another story, one that fate would shortly reveal. Never the less the fact remained that the corporal was uneasy, yet he remained calm and collected. One Cohanna had finished Thoroar shrugged his shoulders and replied. “That description is not much to go on. No one knows how many people live in this city, quite possibly hundreds of thousands, no one ever counted. But certainly hundreds could have matched the description you just gave.” Stepping a few paces away from the duo now he casually reloaded his crossbow but there was no aggression in his body language. He only moved so as that no one was standing directly behind him anymore. The miscreant took this moment to try and run away but Thoroar simply stuck a leg out and tripped the man, sending him sprawling across the damp cobbles before planting a foot on the back of his head stopping the man from running again. “I am Corporal Carter, first name Thoroar. I am relatively new to these streets but I am getting wise fast. I know trouble when I see it and I am staring two large portions of it in the face, no offence.” If anything he meant it as a compliment, if you were trouble it at least meant you were competent. “You are too heavily armed for bailiffs, you do not look like private investigators either. But you are determined to find a man. Therefore he either wronged you or wronged someone else who you are acting for.”

Reaching down he ceased the petty mugger by the neck, took his foot off of his head and hauled him upright, shaking him a bit as he did so. “I have to go to the yard and drop off this miscreant. You two come with me and we can consult the incidents ledger, current cases, even talk to Colon and Nobby. You never know Captain Carrot might be there as well. If a wrong has been committed on Ankh Morpork soil or if someone is seeking shelter here without the Patricians permission it is our duty to root them out. But I must caution you.” His tone had suddenly shifted from helpful to stern. “You are not sworn in watchmen, take the law into your own hands and the watch will come for you.” He began to walk off, half dragging the mugger behind him as he called out. “Follow me please.” Provided the duo followed he would lead them out through the dark, twisted and foreboding streets of the Shades and over the semi solid river Ankh, now proudly boasted to contain up to twenty five percent water and somewhere deep, deep down below the crust the evolution of life was starting all over again. The city slowly went from poverty stricken to affluent as the moved further and further away from the shades. Eventually they emerged onto the isle of gods, a small island in the middle of the city which held some of the most important landmarks of the city including the imposing opera house and the new watch house off of Psuedopolis yard. The watch house itself was a shambling structure, it was old but had been repaired in a manner not in keeping with the original style. Not only that but extensions had to be made time and time again to accommodate the new functions and offices of an increasingly large city watch. As a result it was a jumble of mismatched stones and styles ranging from classical, to gothic, to more modern, purely functional styles. Also one corner of it smelt bad, those were the holding cells and a mixture of blood, puss and many other bodily fluids created a good awful whiff but only in that one very contained area. The watch had long ago given up torturing those it arrested, which was in itself a long and interesting story. It was just the miscreants it hauled in were often drunk or beaten up any way, plus they had a habit of doing awful things to one another and this all created a stench.

Ignoring all of this the corporal walked straight in through the double front doors and into the reception hall. Directly in front of you as you walked in was a great reception desk, with Cheery Littlebottom standing on a box behind it going over the incidents ledger . It was a great oak desk that separated the lawman from the public, only watchmen went behind it, save for special circumstances. Behind the desk was a great staircase leading up to an imposing balcony from which most of the rest of the station was accessed though a few doors on the ground floor led off to the locker room, the basement and the cells. But despite all this the thing anyone walking in at this particular moment would notice first would be the massive pile of rock standing just behind the desk. It was vaguely man shaped though twice the size and had a face like a geological feature, which was precisely what it was. It was wearing a watchman’s helmet and even some scraps of watchman armour which had been stretched and bent out of shape to fit the monolithic creature. This was sergeant Detritus, a rock troll. He had originally been a bouncer at the roughest tavern in town though bouncer was perhaps being too generous. He had been tied up like a dog in front and was barely even able to speak. But since joining the watch not only had he become a respected figure in troll society but he was able to debate points of morality and philosophy, all be it rather slowly. When in a cold place he had one of the sharpest whits around and a real brain for maths. It should be noted that a trolls brain works better in cool places, the hotter the world around them the thicker they get. So in normal temperatures they are slow and stupid, in a desert they are totally useless but up in the mountains or in a sub zero meat storage room they can be fiercely intelligent. Detritus was also very traditional and formal and whilst the watch rarely saluted one another the great troll always saluted those above him and expected his juniors to salute him. As such Thoroar saluted smartly before handing his crossbow back in at the front desk saying to the overtly female dwarf barely visible behind it. “Hello Cheery, one for the cells here. Theft, assault, mugging. Collard him down at Barron Street off of Tobacco road in the Shades.”

Cheery nodded and consulted a different ledger before handing the corporal a key and saying. “Nineteen is free, careful though in the cell opposite we pulled in a Carcer copycat killer.” Thoroar just nodded and was about to haul the man off when he remembered the two women he had brought here. Gesturing too them he said. “Oh Cheery, I believe these two women have a complaint, help them out would you please.” With that Thoroar disappeared off through one of the doors, dragging the criminal behind him whilst the dwarf behind the desk gestured them over and turned back to the incidents ledger saying in her chirpy and slightly artificially high voice. “Hello ladies? How can I help you today?”

Meanwhile down bellow, Thoroar had just finished throwing this latest miscreant into the cells when he slowly turned around to look at the Carcer copycat killer. The original Carcer had been dealt with a long time ago and Thoroar had not been a member of the watch at the time but the man’s reputation lived on. Carcer had been a thief and a serial killer, motivated only by his own ego and insanity. He had killed watchmen and he was always strangely calm. But that insane calm with a look of wild desperation behind the eyes and a sinister sadistic smile that never ever left his face. It was said he was smiling even when he died. Carcer was a model to maniacs everywhere, worshiped by the sick and deranged and it would be some time before his ghost finally died. It was even more pathetic to look at the copy cat killer. He seemed sad and slumped now, the real Carcer would have just sat there smiling, plotting his escape and revenge. No one could really match up to the real Carcer and that was probably a very good thing.

Thoroar was now heading back up to reception to see how Cheery and the others were getting along with the case when he bumped into the only member of the force he really called a friend. True, eventually he hoped he could call them all, even Vimes friends. But for the moment they all seemed a little distant or mistrusting. There was only one who warmed up to him at once, partly because she was treated even worse, especially when she was new and Thoroar was the only one she knew who always treated her right. This woman was Sally von Humpeding, her real first name was Salacia and her whole name spanned several pages but she preferred just to be called Sally. She looked no older than sixteen with short dark hair and though she did not look like a boy something about the way she carried herself and acted gave the impression that she would not mind being mistaken for one. She was dressed exactly the same as the other watchmen aside from the fact she was wearing long sleeves and hanging on her back was a wide brimmed, slightly floppy hat. She was carrying two cups of coffee and said. “I felt you come in, dragging some terrified miscreant behind you, he was sweating a lot. I thought you could do with your normal cup.” She offered him one of the mugs which he gladly took and started sipping on with a slightly pleased sigh. He looked at his friend and said. “Why don’t they have you down at the Uberwald meet, I would have thought you would be perfect for it.” Sally sighed and said through an unamused smile. “Vimes does not trust me to be there.” Thoroar simply chuckled saying. “Oh I know how that feels. Say Sally, I have what looks like it might be an interesting case on my hands, want to tag along.” Sally simply nodded and followed the corporal back to reception where Cheery was still helping out Cohanna and Kamira.

However, as soon as the pair walked in side by side, each with a cup of coffee in their hands Kamira would instantly know something about Sally, werewolves could always spot this. Sally was a vampire. It was not a secret, the whole watch knew, indeed it was cause for some controversy, most if not all of them hated the idea of a vampire in the watch but due to political pressure they were forced to take her. Likewise Sally would instantly know Kamira was at least part werewolf though she was confused as to her mixed breeding. Werewolves and vampires never really got along but Sally was always willing to over lock that, all be it in an arrogant way that somehow just made the situation worse. Thoroar introduced her. “Sally, Cohanna and Kamira and vice a versa. Sally here is an invaluable member of the watch and can be extraordinarily useful in these somewhat strange cases.” Sally smiled and extended a hand and as she smiled she let her canines extend just that little bit as if to say. ‘Yes, that’s right I’m a vampire so don’t mess with me.’ “Now tell me you lot.” Thoroar continued. “What progress have we made?”

((Oh no, two characters is good, especially with the werewolf, with the plot I have in mind it will create a really interesting extra little dynamic. By the way, if the turtle thing made you laugh you really should read the books. Almost all of the stuff in this thread which will make you laugh was either inspired by or ripped off of the author of the discworld series. Some are my own invention but very few and even then they are in the discworld style.))

Drifting slowly through the cosmos is a great star turtle, his name is Great A Tuin and he is ten thousand miles long. Craters poc his enormous underbelly from the impact of countless meteorites which to him are but a minor itch. He is as old as time and more patient than rock. He is from another universe, or so the theories say, and it is not known if there are any more of his kind in existence. The great question of the age is where has he come from and where is he going to. The most popular theory is that he is swimming from the birthplace to the place of breeding. There he will meet other star turtles and engage in repeated and passionate union. This is known as the big bang theory. This has led to great interest as to the exact sex of the star turtle as being on the bottom of such a coupling could be devastating indeed. Standing atop the great turtle are four giant elephants. Their names are Berilia, Great T’Phon, Tubul and Jerakeen. It is often wondered just what made T’Phon so great and whether his name has caused the Elephants to argue. It is hoped not since if they moved the disc may tumble off of the Elephants and into the unyielding void of space. Upon their colossal shoulders they carry the great wheel of the Discworld. It is lit by one small sun which moves in a very complicated orbit due to the unique gravitational forces at play here. As such this is probably the only place in existence where, every now and again, an elephant has to cock its leg to let the sun go by. Scientists have calculated that anything so patently absurd actually existing are millions to one. But the wizards of Unseen University say that million to one chances happen nine times out of ten.

Light falls on the disk slowly, like treacle oozing across a kitchen work surface. As it Illuminated the great world you could see the giant, ten mile high mountain known as Cori Celesti upon which rested Dunmanaifestin, the realm of the gods. From here they engaged in their petty rivalries and played great games a kin to chess. But the pieces were real people. Needles to say the small gods such as the goddess Anoia, the goddess of things lost in draws, were not allowed to play. Running from this great spire of rock lay numerous mountain ranges known as the hub mountains, gradually getting smaller and smaller as they moved towards the rim. The centre, furthest from the sun, was coated permanently in ice and snow but conditions grew more moderate towards the edge, eventually turning into desert where there was land. For the most part however, the sea simply fell off of the edge of the disc in a great, never ending water fall going down, ever down into space. Occasionally the wind would whip it around and give the great elephants a cool refreshing shower to help ease their massive burden. Hanging on the very edge of the disc lay the almost invisible circumfence. A great net created by strange beings designed to catch flotsam and jetsam as it ran over the edge of the world. This would then be sorted for anything valuable or important which could then be sold by those who built the fence.

Zooming in closer now we can see a large body of water almost totally enclosed by land, with only a narrow opening to the great ocean. This was the circle sea On the side closest to the rim lay the great desert nation of Klatch but on its hub side lay the festering city of Ankh Morpork and it is here that our story will focus. The city squatted on the river Ankh like a syphilitic boil and it was said by some to have acquired a life of its own, growing and oozing like some rotten mould. Close by were the Morpork mountains but all around the city lay mile after mile of cabbage fields which helped give the city its distinctive smell. Indeed so dependant was the city upon these cabbages that they even formed part of their coat of arms. Never the less the smell can be chiefly attributed to the river, now so polluted that in some places the city watch is able to walk out onto its surface and chalk the outline of corpses upon the crust that has formed over the ooze. But make sure not to fall in, it is a death sentence if you do. Other contributing factors to the smell were the fact that this city had no real sanitation system. Excrement and garbage was simply thrown out into the street and the closest thing there was to a refuse service were the shambling, presumably man like creatures called gnolls, that seemed to collect garbage and wear their favourite parts as giant coats. Some of them are so old and have collected so much filth that they are little more than drifting piles of junk. Anything they do not collect they give to Mr King who sifts it for anything valuable and sells it on and simply buries the rest. Of course Mr King is paid to ensure that the richer areas of the city are cleaned both first and the most thoroughly. Indeed despite appearances Ankh Morpork is the richest city around, possibly even the richest city on the disk and that includes those on the Counterweight continent, a continent supposedly made of solid gold. But the wealth was concentrated in the hands of the few, traders and aristocrats, it would not do to let the common man have money after all would it? They would not know what to spend it on.

The city was full of important people, nobles, merchants, the heads of guilds but chief amongst them was the Patrician. Lord Havelock Vetinari. Sometimes called Dog Botherer, at your own risk, needless to say no one has called him that since his rise to power. Indeed there is some question as to exactly how he gained his position and those who know are smart enough not to tell. What is known for sure however is that Lord Vetinari was educated at the assassins guild where he did frighteningly well and it is presumed he used many skills he learnt there, not least his fanatical attention to detail, in his rise to power, and in staying there. It is true he is not particularly fair or even remotely democratic but under him the city works for the first time in centuries. Whilst the legalisation of the thieves guild and assassins guild may seem strange strict quotas are applied and if anything crime has gone down because of them.

But another major reason why the city works can currently be found sitting behind a desk looking through some papers and saying with a sigh. “Twenty four?” The man saying this looked to be in his mid to late forties. He also had the look of a man of the world. He seemed to have cynicism and experience ground into his very flesh and deep wrinkles in his forehead suggested several lifetimes worth of frowning and brooding. But despite all this he did not seem tired or worn down, simply weathered. His blue eyes went up and down the page again to check the numbers. This man was commander Samuel Vimes. Or to be more accurate His Grace the Duke of Ankh Commander Sir Samuel Vimes, he loathed that name, he loathed titles and accepted them grudgingly. Indeed he protested whenever he was called his grace or anything of the kind and whilst at work insisted on being called commander. He was a copper plain and simple, it coursed through his veins and he could not remember a time when he was anything else. “Twenty four corporal. How did you manage twenty four?” The man he was addressing was Corporal Carter, Thoroar Carter, a fellow guardsman and a relatively new one too. He had only been promoted so quickly because he could hardly not be. The corporal seemed to exercise his duty a little too well for comfort. Vimes never liked it when things worked too well, it made all his old copper sense tingle. “My apologies sir, I let six men escape. I assure you I will be revising my strategy to ensure this does not happen again.” Vimes of course meant that he was impressed by the fact one man had managed to take in all those people singlehandedly and Thoroar knew it, more over Vimes knew he knew it. “Yes well make sure you don’t make the same mistakes again corporal.” Vimes was not about to play into the hands of this man and give him a compliment, he was too clever for that and though it could well be argued that the man deserved praise Vimes had decided not to like the corporal until his doubts and concerns about the man could be laid to rest. The leading theory in Vimes mind at the moment was that this man was from the assasins guild and had been employed to find out information only the watch knew so as to be able to get around all sorts of security around the city.

Thoroar was only momentarily phased by the lack of praise from Vimes but he quickly established his stride. “Sir, I wish to bring to your attention the work of sergeant Angua. She was invaluable in adding me. Without her advice on fooling their guard dogs I doubt I would have apprehended a single criminal sir.” Angua was the guards only resident werewolf and was, as such invaluable in both tracking criminals and bringing them to justice. It was true the stench of the city meant her senses were sometimes clouded but she could track a criminals path days after the event even in this wretched place. She was also the only office of the watch to wear her badge around her neck for when she shifted to her wolf form since all other elements of her clothing fell off. This could often lead to embarrassing situations when she turned back into her human form and had to borrow clothes from the nearest available source. However, despite all this only the people who knew her or those equipped to identify her could tell she was the werewolf. Almost all of the rest of the time she was simply human and her stern yet homely beauty aided this no end. Men were seemingly unwilling to call her the werewolf. Instead most people called Sergeant Nobby Nobbs the werewolf, since it was common knowledge at least someone in the watch was. Nobby was a small little man who could only barely be called human, indeed some consider him a subspecies all of his own. So much so that he is the only human who carries a certificate to prove it. He was filthy, hairy and rat faced. He was permanently smoking self made rollups and would steal anything not nailed down, he considered anything which could be prized loose as not nailed down. To say he was a common as muck would be an insult to muck but surprisingly he was cleverer than he often seemed, though it is doubtful even he realised it. But he was an old copper, he was there all those years ago with Fred Colon, Reginald Shoe and a fresh faced young Vimes. He was there when Keel died and was one of the only three people able to get away with calling Vimes Sam. He was an old copper and not so much at home on the streets but part of them.

Vimes looked up from his paper work up at corporal Thoroar raised an eyebrow as if taunting the corporal into some further response and then said. “That is all corporal, resume your duties as normal. Oh and fetch Captain Carrot on your way out.” Vimes returned to his paper work and did not look again at Thoroar, a trick he had picked up from Vetinari and which clearly signalled that matters had come to a close. Thoroar simply clicked his heels and left silently. Carrot was not difficult to find, he never was. A six foot six red head and with muscles and ox would be jealous of is never very hard to find. Carrot was also naturally handsome in a chiselled sort of way and seemed to be about twenty something. Physically he was every inch the male ideal and not only that he was a kind, good hearted man who tried to be as understanding and sympathetic as possible despite his utterly literal understanding of the law and things in general. His upbringing was complex and will be discussed at a later time but as soon as he saw Thoroar enter the room Carrot smiled and said “Oh hello, I almost did not see you there.” In surprisingly soft and friendly tones.

It should be explained Carrot was attempting humour. You see Thoroar was, for the moment, wearing a camouflage poncho he had made himself as well as a net on his helmet with several cabbage leaves stuck inside. As part of his arrest the corporal had had to lie in wait inside a large cabbage patch just outside the city, hence the disguise. After Thorar had pointed out to Carrot the fact that Vimes wished to see him the giant man just smiled and nodded before saying. “Thank you corporal. Oh and by the way, that was a very nice arrest. You managed to capture twenty four people and only sent four of them to the free hospital. Not only that but you managed to recover all of the stolen artwork without any damage. Very well done.” Thoroar liked Carrot, heck everybody liked carrot, it was impossible not to and not only that but the man possessed and aura, a certain charisma, or krisma as Sergeant Collon put it, that could make almost anyone do anything he wanted. It is good therefore that Carrot was such a kind man he would never use this ability for nefarious ends. “ Thank you, that means a lot coming from you Carrot, and make sure to pass my thanks on to Angua if you should see her before I do.” Carrot smiled that endearing smile of his, nodded and walked off. Though Carrot was as nice as possible to everyone it was true that praise from Carrot was high praise indeed. No one in the history of the watch had ever been promoted faster than Carrot, no other officer of the watch was as liked and trusted on the street, no one followed the letter of the law closer than he, no one was more just and fair and no one had a better arrest record, though this incident had put Thoroar in a position where he might be able to give some competition to this living legend. The only reason why Carrot was not in charge of the whole watch was that unlike Vimes he did not quite have the same nose for trouble, hidden agendas and hidden politics. No one could grasp the wider picture like Vimes, put all the pieces together. Also Vimes was controllable, although only Vetinari really knew how to do it and Vetinari liked having a chief of police he could manipulate, though Vimes hated every moment of it.

Thoroar went to his locker, removed the poncho and camouflage netting and stuffed them inside revealing his more normal uniform beneath. It was plain and simple A light brown shirt and light brown leggings with his corporal stripes on both arms. He had a breastplate and back plate and hanging from the shoulders and waist of them were several studded leather strips similar to that of an old roman soldier. He also possessed a pair of sturdy leather boots but just like Vimes the soles were so worn down they were almost paper thin, he liked to be able to feel the streets beneath his feet just like the commander. A sword hung from one side of his belt and a black jack from the other. Forged into his breast plate was the badge of an officer of the watch, a shield which symbolised much more than just the protection of the people. The corporal had also, at his own expense, invested in some tough leather gloves and some very basic plate for his thighs and shins. This armour was of noticeably lower quality since he could not afford to pay top dollar on a meagre watchman’s salary.

He strolled towards the front door of the watch house, known as Pseudopolis yard and picked up a crossbow on his way. He passed Cheery Littlebottom on his way out. She was manning the reception desk since there was no forensics work going on at the moment. She was an ex alchemist, forced to leave her guild due to a rather large and unfortunate explosion and had turned to the watch as a source of employment in desperate times. However, she had gradually used her skills to carve a vital niche here and was now indispensible But far more importantly she was the world’s only openly female dwarf. Female dwarfs had always existed but they looked just like the men, beard and all, and it was ingrained in their culture that dwarfs all pretend they are men save for procreation, it was a strange but effective means of achieving equality. None the less this means that Cheery is something of an outcast. She wore ribbons in her hair and even wore a skirt! True the ribbons were in her beard hair and the skirt was made of chainmail but by the gods they were still ribbons and a skirt! Thoroar was however, utterly unphased by this and said to her as he passed by. “Hello there sergeant. I am in the Shades tonight aren’t I?” he said this with a slight air of dread, the Shades were the most dangerous area in the city, especially for watchmen. It was full of coat throats, thieves, muggers and the like and they all had a special hatred of the watch. Cheery nodded gloomily and said in her slightly shrill tones, hammed up because she was trying to sound high and feminine. “Yes I am afraid so corporal, plus you have no duty buddy tonight. Half the guard are providing security for Vetinari’s guests from Uberwald.” Thoroar nodded, he thought this might be the case, people from Uberwald were always targets for one group of people or another.

Uberwald was a land of steep gorges, unforgiving mountains, deep forests and castles set against a backdrop of lightning. It was the home to werewolves and vampires, two peoples with significant blood feuds. It was also the home to dwarfs and trolls, two other groups who loathed each other. It was also the home of mad scientists and of course the Igors. Igors pushed the definition of human even further than Nobbs. Igors replaced bits of their bodies one by one as other elements failed or became inefficient. They performed the surgery on themselves often without anaesthetic and as such have become almost immune to pain. Often they can be made of six or seven different people at any one time as they scavenge any suitable organs. They all have hideous hunches, they all have speech impediments and they all make doors creek. The watch had its own Igor, he was an emergency surgeon and preformed police autopsies. Walking towards the door Thoroar called out to Cheery. “Well extend my condolences to any poor bugger who gets that detail. I would rather be having my throat cut out in the Shades.” It was hard to tell if he was being serious or not.

The Shades lived up to its name, it always did. Even when the rest of the world enjoyed daylight this place seemed to be in perpetual darkness. Every shadow was deep and impenetrable, every building tall and dark, every corner threatening to be hiding some knife wielding maniac. The buildings were irregular and uneven and seemed to lean in over the street giving you the feeling of being trapped. From some corner or other there was always the faint drip of water tumbling down and hitting the street. Wooden winch levers stuck out ominously over head and the mind’s eye could not help but picture people hanging from them, rather than goods being hauled up and down. Every now and again you would encounter a seamstress littering the streets corners and you had the feeling that death had set up a permanent branch office somewhere in these unforgiving cobbled streets. Here a skilled watchman learned to avoid finding crimes, especially when he was on his own. Unfortunately it seemed that Thoroar was not skilled enough as he came across a mugging in progress when he rounded one of the many blind corners in this part of the city.

“ Stop in the name of the law!” He barked at the mugger who seemed to be attempting to rob a seamstress of her hard earned money, after all the seamstresses guild was legal now, provided their employees could pass city health checks and they all used Mr Sonky’s penny a packet preventatives. It was often said that the housing crisis in the city would be allot worse were it not for the late Sonky. The mugger refused to stop, no surprises there. Instead he ran, his shoes clicking against the cold stone cobbles. The corporal instantly gave chase, most coppers would have simply let him go in this neighbourhood for fear of being led into an ambush but not Thoroar, oh no. He was determined to uphold the law and to prove himself to Vimes and all the other officers who had doubts about him. He pounded along behind the mugger coming closer with every step. “Halt!” He cried again, to no avail. Whilst still running he fired his crossbow into the ground in front of the mugger, hoping this would stop him, it did not but it did make the mugger momentarily hesitate and the mugger was too stupid to realise that the watchman would have to stop to reload before he could fire again. The hesitation allowed the corporal to smash into the back of the mugger and rugby tackle him to the ground. The two slid along the slimy cobbles for a few meters before coming to a slow halt. There was no reading of rights here in Ankh Morpork, all that Thoroar felt the need to say was. “You are under arrest for the crime of assault with intent to steal in breach of the preservation of earnings act. Now shut up and come with me to the yard.” Ceasing the criminal by the back of the head he slammed his face into the pavement once for good measure before slapping on a pair of handcuffs and hauling the dazed man to his feet. Ripping a small coin purse from the mans hands he doubled back on himself and returned the coins to the woman who had been robed who simply smiled in a fake flustered sort of way and added in a coy fashion. “Well why thank you. You know you can always visit me if you are in need of company on your lonely shifts corporal. I’ll always be right here waiting for you.” She swayed her hips slightly and winked in a manner that went past suggestive and crossed into downright declaration. Thoroar simply deployed his standard response for this situation, it had happened often enough before. “I thank you maam but I am sure it will not be necessary, good day.” With that he began to haul the miscreant to the yard.

But after a little while, sixty meters or so he felt someone, or something close by. It was not a stranger passing by or a member of the general public, whatever was happening was focused on him or the miscreant he had firmly in his possession. But he was sensible enough not to stop and challenge this unknown force. Instead he just gave the criminal a good hard shove and continued pushing him towards the yard, looking around every now and again for the normal assortment of thugs and cut throats but also this unknown presence that seemed to make his hair stand on end. He knew if he could get to the yard and not show any signs of agitation he was safe, getting there was the problem. For now he just had to rely on the gargoyles. Those great monstrous edifices of stone perched on manor and church alike. Little did most people know but they were alive. They were not made alive, they had to be left alone for long enough and slowly soak up excess magic from the unseen university over the centuries but slowly they creaked into life and they almost all worked for the watch as silent, near omni present watchers that saw things others did not, Thoroar was hoping one such gargoyle would spot whoever was following them and report to the watch house. But suddenly things shifted and something seemed to appear before him. He did not know if it had rounded a corner, dropped down in front of him or sprung from the earth itself, he did not even know if it was that mysterious feeling was this person. Never the less he instinctively shoved the petty mugger behind him for protection. His job was to protect the public and that included criminals, so long as they paid their taxes. He was ready for a fight but there was no way in any five hells you care to name that he was going to make the first move. After all he was here to keep the peace and there was precious little of it already.

((There you go, as said earlier ask me any questions and feel free to do more or less what you like. The Discworld can acomadate more or less anything, even death riding a ghostly motorcycle made of bones and blue fire, ha ha.))