Kepic
Your friendly neighbourhood Alien Abductor
- Joined
- Aug 19, 2000
- Posts
- 1,163
A horse rode down the Street of Cunning Artificer's at breakneck speed, though its rider still doing his best to spur it on faster.
This it managed to accomplish, but only because of the sudden lightening of its load, for a huge arm had placed itself in the riders path, and plucked him effortlessly from the saddle, leaving the horse to carry on down the street for quite a distance before it began to slow.
"No!" shrieked the man, his face almost ashen white.
"Speedin', and wreckless ridin', an' disturbin' the peace" rumbled the figure to which the huge arm was attached.
Few humans when held firmly in a trolls grip, especially if that troll happened to be Detritus of the Ank-Morpork Watch, had the guts - or 'stones' from a troll's viewpoint - to try and break free of it. This man tried to do just that.
There was fear in his eyes, even Detritus recognised it. But not directed at him.
"I haven't time for this! Let me go! I demand you put me down!" screamed the man, pounding his fists against the wrist of the trolls hand which was grasping his collar now between thumb and forefinger, holding him aloft from the ground. This as futile as pounding at a solid brick wall with your bare hands, which, some might say, were related to trolls.
"An' assaulting an officer of the law" Detritus said, just as the man kicked him between the legs. Again, without any ill effect. Well, at least on the trolls part.
"Ow! My foot!" cried the man, trying to grasp at the toes of the guilty - and throbbing - foot.
"Put him down, Sergeant" came a voice.
"But den he might run off, sir" replied Detritus after a few moments, turning round.
"Hobble, maybe. Hop, possibly. But run? I think we could catch up" commented Carrot.
Captain Carrot was an imposing figure - 6'6" tall, with a big, honest forehead, mighty neck and impressively pink skin, due to scrubbing. He had the name Carrot not only because of his red hair, but because of his shape - the kind of tapering shape a growing boy gets through clean living, healthy eating and good mountain air in huge lungfuls. When he flexed his muscles, other muscles had to get out of the way first, and he had a punch even Detritus respected.
"Yessir" replied Detritus, lowering the man to the cobbled ground.
"Now sir, what seems to be the hurry?" Carrot asked, in his usual unusually calm and polite voice.
"No!" shrieked the man, scrambling back on the ground. "Get away from me!"
Carrot glanced down the street in the direction the man was staring, as Detritus - whose knuckles in their usual position dragged along the ground - placed a heavy palm on one of the man shoulders, stopping him from moving further.
Not that he need to, for in that moment, the man suddenly gurgled and collapsed fully to the ground.
* * *
LUCAS GRETWALD a voice sounded, not so much by reverberating in the air, but arriving straight into the head. However, the speaker was unheard by the majority of those within 'earshot' - excepting a couple of stray cats who he had ticked absent-mindly behind their ears as he had dismounted in an alley nearby, and by a small group of students from the Unseen University who quickly decided it was time to return to their classes.
"Um, yes? Could you give me a hand up?" replied Lucus. A boney hand grasped his, and helped him to his feet.
"Oh" he said, looking into the grinning face of the black-robed figure before him. Not that the person he was addressing could do much other than grin. "I'm dead, aren't I?"
YES replied Death, who was looking at a small egg-timer - or, more accurately, life-timer - in one skeletal hand, about the base of which the name Lucas Gretwald was inscribed.
"Has it... has it stopped following me?" he asked, looking back at his body, led on the cobblestones.
YES replied Death again, readying his scythe, the unimaginably sharp edge of which glowed a faint blue.
Lucus sighed, nodded, and visibly relaxed, as much as a recently dead spirit can relax. "What, what comes now?"
THAT WHICH COMES AFTER THAT WHICH WAS BEFORE stated Death matter-of-factly, swinging his scythe as the last grain tumbled downwards in the life-timer.
The spirit of of Lucas Gretwald disappeared.
Then Death looked at the life-timer he held, watching a few grains of sand tumbling back upwards, hovering in between the two halves of the timer. He strode back to the alley where he had left his steed, a fine white horse named Binky.
I HATE IT WHEN THEY GO AND BE DIFFICULT he said as he saddled back up.
"Um, what did you say comes now?" Lucus asked again, as his spirit reappeared nearby.
* * *
"Den he jus went an dropped dead, sir" Detritus said, slowly. "I only tapped dim on da shouldah, sir."
"I know, Sergeant. It wasn't your fault." Carrot said, closing the mans eyes. "He died of fright... his heart gave out. He was... scared to death. I Don't recognise him though."
Carrot had an unfailing memory for names and faces.
"What did da frightenin' den?" asked Detritus, after a long pause. A crowd had gathered around the them, at a respectful distance. A few - low voiced - mumbles about 'watch brutality' could be heard, if you listened hard enough.
Carrot was a very good listener. He was also a very good starer. A slow turn of his head, casting his eyes over the crowd, quickly stiffled those mumbles, or at least made certain the crowd kept thoughts like that inside their heads.
"I don't know, Sergeant. But I intend to find out. Don't let anyone touch him until I say otherwise, I'll be right back."
"Yessir" saluted Detritus, stepping into position over the slumped body, and unslung the seige crossbow he had strapped to his back, wheels and all. The gathered crowds interpretation of 'respectful distance' rapidly increased by several more yards.
* * *
About a quater of an hour later, Captain Carrot returned to the scene, along with a few other members of the Watch. Detritus was still standing in the position he had taken up since Carrot had left, and the crowd had grown somewhat.
As could be expected at any place where a crowd gathered, C.M.O.T. Dibbler was taking advantage to sell some of his famous sausages-in-a-bun and meat pies. These we generally supposed to be made from pork, but, considering that Dibbler thought that anything that had been part of a pig, or even near a big, and possibly within the earshot of a pig, you could'nt really be sure. People usually went extra-heavy on the mustard. At least, after their first.
"Help Detritus keep the crowd back, Sergeant" Carrot instructed Colon, who was standing beside Corporal Nobbs.
"Yes sir" replied Colon, "you heard the Captain, Corporal."
"Mmmmph-mf" mumbled back Nobbs, who for some reason was biting happily into one of Dibblers sausages-in-a-bun, and managed to spray bits of onion out of his nostrils as he gave a salute.
Corporal Littlebottom and Igor were examining the body carefully. After a while, they stood up, though neither stood up very far, on the account that Littlebottom was a dwarf, and Igor was, well, Igor. Hunched backs kind of ran in the Igor family line. Littlebottom and Igor where part of the Forensics department in the City Watch.
"It ith a bit suspicious thur" Igor said, one of the Watches newest recruits. "Been yearth sinth I thaw a decent look of terror like. Bringth back some fond memories."
"But we can't find any apparent cause of death besides the apparent heart-attack Captain" Littlebottom interjected, "we might be able to find out more after we get him back to the station and perform an autopsy."
"Very well" Carrot said, nodding to her and Igor.
[Edited by Kepic on 05-03-2001 at 12:24 PM]
This it managed to accomplish, but only because of the sudden lightening of its load, for a huge arm had placed itself in the riders path, and plucked him effortlessly from the saddle, leaving the horse to carry on down the street for quite a distance before it began to slow.
"No!" shrieked the man, his face almost ashen white.
"Speedin', and wreckless ridin', an' disturbin' the peace" rumbled the figure to which the huge arm was attached.
Few humans when held firmly in a trolls grip, especially if that troll happened to be Detritus of the Ank-Morpork Watch, had the guts - or 'stones' from a troll's viewpoint - to try and break free of it. This man tried to do just that.
There was fear in his eyes, even Detritus recognised it. But not directed at him.
"I haven't time for this! Let me go! I demand you put me down!" screamed the man, pounding his fists against the wrist of the trolls hand which was grasping his collar now between thumb and forefinger, holding him aloft from the ground. This as futile as pounding at a solid brick wall with your bare hands, which, some might say, were related to trolls.
"An' assaulting an officer of the law" Detritus said, just as the man kicked him between the legs. Again, without any ill effect. Well, at least on the trolls part.
"Ow! My foot!" cried the man, trying to grasp at the toes of the guilty - and throbbing - foot.
"Put him down, Sergeant" came a voice.
"But den he might run off, sir" replied Detritus after a few moments, turning round.
"Hobble, maybe. Hop, possibly. But run? I think we could catch up" commented Carrot.
Captain Carrot was an imposing figure - 6'6" tall, with a big, honest forehead, mighty neck and impressively pink skin, due to scrubbing. He had the name Carrot not only because of his red hair, but because of his shape - the kind of tapering shape a growing boy gets through clean living, healthy eating and good mountain air in huge lungfuls. When he flexed his muscles, other muscles had to get out of the way first, and he had a punch even Detritus respected.
"Yessir" replied Detritus, lowering the man to the cobbled ground.
"Now sir, what seems to be the hurry?" Carrot asked, in his usual unusually calm and polite voice.
"No!" shrieked the man, scrambling back on the ground. "Get away from me!"
Carrot glanced down the street in the direction the man was staring, as Detritus - whose knuckles in their usual position dragged along the ground - placed a heavy palm on one of the man shoulders, stopping him from moving further.
Not that he need to, for in that moment, the man suddenly gurgled and collapsed fully to the ground.
* * *
LUCAS GRETWALD a voice sounded, not so much by reverberating in the air, but arriving straight into the head. However, the speaker was unheard by the majority of those within 'earshot' - excepting a couple of stray cats who he had ticked absent-mindly behind their ears as he had dismounted in an alley nearby, and by a small group of students from the Unseen University who quickly decided it was time to return to their classes.
"Um, yes? Could you give me a hand up?" replied Lucus. A boney hand grasped his, and helped him to his feet.
"Oh" he said, looking into the grinning face of the black-robed figure before him. Not that the person he was addressing could do much other than grin. "I'm dead, aren't I?"
YES replied Death, who was looking at a small egg-timer - or, more accurately, life-timer - in one skeletal hand, about the base of which the name Lucas Gretwald was inscribed.
"Has it... has it stopped following me?" he asked, looking back at his body, led on the cobblestones.
YES replied Death again, readying his scythe, the unimaginably sharp edge of which glowed a faint blue.
Lucus sighed, nodded, and visibly relaxed, as much as a recently dead spirit can relax. "What, what comes now?"
THAT WHICH COMES AFTER THAT WHICH WAS BEFORE stated Death matter-of-factly, swinging his scythe as the last grain tumbled downwards in the life-timer.
The spirit of of Lucas Gretwald disappeared.
Then Death looked at the life-timer he held, watching a few grains of sand tumbling back upwards, hovering in between the two halves of the timer. He strode back to the alley where he had left his steed, a fine white horse named Binky.
I HATE IT WHEN THEY GO AND BE DIFFICULT he said as he saddled back up.
"Um, what did you say comes now?" Lucus asked again, as his spirit reappeared nearby.
* * *
"Den he jus went an dropped dead, sir" Detritus said, slowly. "I only tapped dim on da shouldah, sir."
"I know, Sergeant. It wasn't your fault." Carrot said, closing the mans eyes. "He died of fright... his heart gave out. He was... scared to death. I Don't recognise him though."
Carrot had an unfailing memory for names and faces.
"What did da frightenin' den?" asked Detritus, after a long pause. A crowd had gathered around the them, at a respectful distance. A few - low voiced - mumbles about 'watch brutality' could be heard, if you listened hard enough.
Carrot was a very good listener. He was also a very good starer. A slow turn of his head, casting his eyes over the crowd, quickly stiffled those mumbles, or at least made certain the crowd kept thoughts like that inside their heads.
"I don't know, Sergeant. But I intend to find out. Don't let anyone touch him until I say otherwise, I'll be right back."
"Yessir" saluted Detritus, stepping into position over the slumped body, and unslung the seige crossbow he had strapped to his back, wheels and all. The gathered crowds interpretation of 'respectful distance' rapidly increased by several more yards.
* * *
About a quater of an hour later, Captain Carrot returned to the scene, along with a few other members of the Watch. Detritus was still standing in the position he had taken up since Carrot had left, and the crowd had grown somewhat.
As could be expected at any place where a crowd gathered, C.M.O.T. Dibbler was taking advantage to sell some of his famous sausages-in-a-bun and meat pies. These we generally supposed to be made from pork, but, considering that Dibbler thought that anything that had been part of a pig, or even near a big, and possibly within the earshot of a pig, you could'nt really be sure. People usually went extra-heavy on the mustard. At least, after their first.
"Help Detritus keep the crowd back, Sergeant" Carrot instructed Colon, who was standing beside Corporal Nobbs.
"Yes sir" replied Colon, "you heard the Captain, Corporal."
"Mmmmph-mf" mumbled back Nobbs, who for some reason was biting happily into one of Dibblers sausages-in-a-bun, and managed to spray bits of onion out of his nostrils as he gave a salute.
Corporal Littlebottom and Igor were examining the body carefully. After a while, they stood up, though neither stood up very far, on the account that Littlebottom was a dwarf, and Igor was, well, Igor. Hunched backs kind of ran in the Igor family line. Littlebottom and Igor where part of the Forensics department in the City Watch.
"It ith a bit suspicious thur" Igor said, one of the Watches newest recruits. "Been yearth sinth I thaw a decent look of terror like. Bringth back some fond memories."
"But we can't find any apparent cause of death besides the apparent heart-attack Captain" Littlebottom interjected, "we might be able to find out more after we get him back to the station and perform an autopsy."
"Very well" Carrot said, nodding to her and Igor.
[Edited by Kepic on 05-03-2001 at 12:24 PM]
