#Sergeant Detritus
Text
Guards..
#discworld#sam vimes#carrot ironfoundersson#fred colon#angua von uberwald#cheri littlebottom#cheery littlebottom#detritus#sergeant detritus#constable visit#Constable Visit-The-Infidel-With-Explanatory-Pamphlets#nobby nobbs#reg shoe#gnu terry pratchett#gnu jan kantůrek#art#my art
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Aagragaah. It mean lit’rally der time when you see dem little pebbles and you jus’ know dere’s gonna be a great big landslide on toppa you and it already too late to run.
-- Terry Pratchett - Jingo
#Terry Pratchett#discworld quotes#GNU Terry Pratchett#quotes#Jingo#Detritus#Sergeant Detritus#trolls#Aagragaah
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Someone just told me that the Trolls in Discworld count in base four and then Detritus and Cuddy figure out how to do maths in binary, which completely blew me away because up until this point I was assuming that this passage was simply mocking the french language:
Given that the literal translation of « 98 » in french is four-twenty-ten-eight
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Discworld Fanfic: The Other Trouser Leg
Based on Jingo, it tells the story of the other Vimes.
Wordcount: 3065
In Jingo, Sam Vimes' Dis-Organiser begins to malfunction, getting confused and giving him the schedule of the Vimes who stayed behind in Ankh-Morpork. He hears the horrors of what could have been. He hears as the Dis-Organiser reports the deaths of his men.
But, in theory, another Vimes would have gotten his schedule. A Vimes who was having a much worse day.
Please enjoy this tragic fanfiction.
The Other Trouser Leg
Vimes wandered down the street, puffing on a cigar. It wasn’t his usual walk. And even if it was, it hadn’t been for a while. The ceremonial truncheon in his belt saw to that. But someone needed to make sure this all didn’t go to-
Bingley-Bingley-Beep
Vimes groaned. “What is it now, you blasted thing?” he swore as he pulled out the Dis-organiser.
“6:34am Meeting with 71-Hour Ahmed in ruins of Tacticum,” the demon wittered, though it sounded unsure of itself.
“What are you on about?” Vimes stared at it. “I’ve never even heard of Tacticum, and why would I be meeting with that madman Ahmed?”
“Um… I don’t know…” the demon confessed, then went back inside the box.
Vimes put it away and got back to what he was doing. Organising the supplies to build defences. Someone had to, and Vetinari was gone, Lord Rust was abroad, thankfully, so there was only The Watch Regiment left to oversee things.
Captain Carrot, meanwhile, had essentially left by himself to get Angua. He’d come back to inform everyone of the mission, unlike any other valiant rescue in history, but Vimes had let him go. He’d wanted to follow. He’d been moments from sodding this whole war effort and leaving. But someone reminded him he was needed here. He was Commander of the Watch, and both Sybil and Carrot said he needed to delegate more.
So he had. Carrot would rescue Angua. Meanwhile he’d stay and look after Ankh-Morpork.
The decision didn’t sit right though. He should have been in the thick of it. Going after his corporal. Going after that bastard Ahmed. And the damned Dis-Organiser hadn’t been working all day. Less than usual. It was like it was giving him someone else’s appointments.
It was strange too, because Nobby and Colon had gone missing. So, with all his best men down, though best felt like an odd term, he had to take up the command himself.
So much for delegation.
“Alright!” he yelled to Detritus, who was carrying an entire cart of lumber rather than pulling it. “You, put the wood over there. We can make barricades along the roads.”
“And what should we be doing, sir?” said the smooth voice of Constable Visit beside him.
“Keep fighting to a minimum before the actual fighting starts,” Vimes commanded. “People might not be happy we’re blocking up their streets. And you, Littlebottom.” He looked around, then looked down.
“Yes, sir?” she answered.
“Make sure the barricades are being built. We put some of the dwarves on it, but you know how ornery they can get.”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed and hurried off.
Everything was going to plan… and that worried Vimes a little.
* * *
The barricades and many other defences were built. Fences and walls and barriers. It all looked a bit ramshackle, it was Ankh-Morpork workmanship after all, but hopefully it would hold.
Vimes wasn’t massively hopeful. All the same, men and women milled about, weapons readied, as Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler went about selling sausages to the troops. Some of them were even nervous enough to buy one.
Bingley-Bingley-Beep
Vimes groaned, but took out the Dis-Organiser anyway. “What is it now?”
“7:00am. Charging the armies of Klatch and Ankh-Morpork,” the demon said, stuttering slightly.
“But we’re Ankh Morpork. Why would we be charging ourselves?” Vimes asked, hoping to make the demon see sense.
It didn’t. The imp merely flapped its mouth a moment, scrunched up its lips, then gave up and vanished.
“Bloody thing,” Vimes cursed.
“Commander!” came a cry from the docks.
Vimes hurried down, not quite running, not quite strolling. It didn’t do to show how nervous he was. He even lit a cigar to show how casual he was being. Remarkably, it wasn’t an attack. A boat had pulled up to a jetty by the river gate. A boat with two occupants.
“Good morning, Commander Vimes,” Captain Carrot greeted brightly, stepping off the boat. “How goes everything here?”
“Captain?” Vimes stared in befuddlement. “What are you doing back?”
“Oh, mission accomplished, sir,” he said officially. Behind him, Angua stepped off the boat.
“But… how?” Vimes spluttered. “She was on 71-Hour Ahmed’s ship, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, sir. But when I got to Klatch, she was waiting by the shoreline. Says a metal spike poked through the bottom of the boat, she broke free, then she swam to shore. Ahmed’s people never came after her.”
“Wish he had, the little…” Angua trailed off, rubbing a red band on her neck.
“Well… Impressive, Captain. And you too, Corporal,” Vimes floundered.
“Thank you, sir,” the pair answered.
“Now, if we can just tighten up everything, we might be-”
“Sir?” Captain Carrot held up a hand politely.
“What is it, Captain?”
“We might have been spotted as we left Klatch,” Carrot said worriedly. He pointed out to sea. “It seems they might have followed us.”
Vimes followed his finger. He stared out to sea. The cigar fell from his mouth.
The horizon looked like a small forest. One in winter without a single leaf, as a field of masts poked up over the horizon. Hundreds of them.
* * *
Bingley-Bingley-Beep
“Everyone, fall back! Get to Sator Square! Shore up the defences!” Vimes yelled.
“7:48am. Meet with Prince Cadram and Lord Rust.”
“Just shut up, you daft thing!”
It had all gone wrong. It had all gone wrong so quickly.
The boats had arrived on mass, with Morpork’s own navy having left with Lord Rust. Nets had been put up to stop them at the river gate, but the Klatchians cut straight through. The people of Ankh-Morpork were used to a scrap, but that was mostly broken bottles in taverns. Actual organised fighting was outside their comfort zone, and it showed. People ran, abandoned their posts. Others got stuck in, and immediately killed. The Klatchians were organised. With a shout of Klatchian words, presumably “For Prince Cadram” or some such, they were in the ports, in the streets, and cutting down anyone in their path. Vimes had been forced back with everyone else, fighting his way up Peach Pie Street with a sword and his ceremonial truncheon. The Dis-Organiser had also taken that moment to say he should be fighting enemy soldiers alongside 71-Hour Ahmed, so now he was sure it was broken.
But every armed man had met the Klatchians at the river gate. Now every armed man was falling back, with Vimes desperately trying to hold everything together.
Sator Square was a good gathering place, but it wasn’t exactly a defensible position. Too many entrances, too many paths, too many rooftops. But as soldier and civilian alike ran for their lives, it was still a good place for everyone to gather.
There weren’t as many people as there should have been.
“Alright everyone, we can hold our ground,” Vimes called to everyone. “Carrot, Angua, make sure there’s a man on every road in. Warn us if anyone’s coming. Detritus? If you hear someone call out, open fire. That should scare them.”
There was a clang as Detritus saluted, then he hefted his siege bow into the best spot.
“Everyone else! Build up those barricades. We need a way out, so suggestions are welcome.”
He had run this way hoping for a better way out. Perhaps to head into the Unseen University. Unfortunately the gates were sealed. Locked, bolted, and likely enchanted. Wizards didn’t do war, and that may have been a good thing. The palace was the next best bet, but that was some distance. Then there was the Watch House, but it would be a bit cramped with so many. But in terms of buildings they could defend…
Bingley-Bingley-Beep
“Thing to do today: Arrest Enemy Armies.”
“Enemy sighted!”
THWACK
Detritus had done as instructed, and fired a bolt like an oar down a road. The Klatchian at the other end would have been pinned to the wall, if the arrow had stopped. It was likely two streets over by now, even as Detritus reloaded.
“Fall back!” Vimes yelled. The Watch House it would have to be.
A crowd of terrified people, and rightfully nervous soldiers, and even more anxious guards all hurtled across town. Klatchian patrols surged along parallel streets, the sights of scimitars and turbans down most alleys. Vimes stopped at the Watch House door, and funnelled people inside. A few civilians, though most kept running. Some of the soldiers, though many were dead. Each of The Watch fled inside, some dragging injured people with them. Detritus was last, firing one last bolt up the street, and taking out eight men with one shot. Once the troll was in, Vimes closed the door and barred it.
This wasn’t a plan, hiding in the Watch House. They should be out there helping. But they’d really be out there dying. He counted off his corporals, his sergeants, his captain. Still no sign of Nobby or Colon, but there wasn’t time to worry. He just had to hope they were safe.
He even hoped Nobby was safe. It was an odd realisation.
He got back to the problem at hand. The enemy were literally at the door. Part of him cried out that they shouldn’t have an enemy. That Klatch was no better than them. But this thinking wasn’t helpful right now. He stressed for a plan. He needed a plan.
The wood of the front door began to bend, as shoulders battered it from the other side.
“Dorfl!” he called out. “Hold that door shut!”
“Yes, Commander,” the golem appeared, pressing his clay body against the door.
“Cheery?” Vimes beckoned.
“Yes, sir?” the dwarf emerged from a side room, axe in hand.
“Anything alchemical we can use? Burning, acid, lightning if you can make it.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.” She darted into her lab, which was an old latrine.
“Carrot?”
“Yes, sir,” the Captain was helping some civilians who’d followed them in.
“You’re one of our best fighters. Any weapons you can find. Arm everyone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Angua-”
“Bingley-Bingley-Beep. Force ceasefire of Klatchian War.”
“Would you shut up?!”
CRASH!
There was a smashing sound. The sound of masonry. Brick and stone and-
BOOM!
The door to the alchemy lab exploded, the wall behind it demolished. A small shape, axe still in her hand, launched through the door and landed with an unpleasant crunch at Vimes’ feet. There was a dent in her helmet like a hammer had hit it.
“Sir…” she gasped, as the last air left her lungs.
“Cheery!” Angua screamed.
“You make big mistake!” Detritus roared. As he charged, three Klatchians came through the broken door. One of them was about half the troll’s size and wielding a sledge hammer.
“Bingley-Bingley-Beep. Welcome Vetinari for peace talks.”
“Detritus, wait!” Vimes yelled. But it was too late.
Detritus charged and grabbed the two men to either side. The one in the middle leapt clear. He then reeled back his sledgehammer and brought it down on Detritus’s skull.
“NO!”
Bits of stone fell like shrapnel to the floor, as Detritus collapsed onto the last man, crushing him. But there were more. A dozen more, all pouring through the gap.
“Upstairs now! Everyone!” Vimes yelled.
Everyone sprinted up the stairs. Surging past him, he counted them off as they passed. In the lobby, he saw Reg Shoe struggling to help Dorfl with the front door, only to get pinned to the wall with a scimitar, which barely seemed to inconvenience the man. Constable Visit came sprinting, a sword in one hand and pamphlets in the other. An arrow whistled past his ear and embedded in the stairs, with Visit veering to avoid it. He missed the stairs and wound up around the corner… where there were more Klatchians.
“Sirs, have you considered leaving your false religions and accepting the love and care of Om?” Vimes heard him say.
“Bingley-Bingley-Beep. Watch Captain Carrot’s Football Match between Klatch and Ankh Morpork.”
There was a gurgling gasp.
He’d been trying to convert them to the end. Vimes could almost respect that.
“Dorfl!” he yelled to the golem.
Dorfl answered, moving away from the door to follow. This proved a mistake, as the door collapsed and three men with hammers followed the golem in.
“Behind you!”
“Bingley-Bingley-Beep. Meet with Sergeant Colon and Betty.”
The hammers came down and took off Dorfl’s arm. He kept fighting, but two hammers took out a leg. As he balanced, the three hammers synchronised and met either side of his ceramic skull.
“Blast it all!” Vimes swore and sprinted upstairs, Klatchians hurrying towards him.
He hurried up a flight and found Carrot and Angua waiting. They had a large table, and bookcase, and pushed them down the moment Vimes was past. The furniture hurtled down and crushed three Klatchians on their way up.
“Where now, sir?” Carrot asked, somehow not sounding panicked.
“I… I don’t know. Up. Out my office window,” Vimes guessed. It had all gone so wrong.
They sprinted to the top floor, and towards Vimes’ office. Below, the bookcase had been made short work of, and the table thrown aside. Footsteps were running up behind them, and as they rounded a landing, a stray arrow flew up from below. It caught Angua across the arm, sizzling as it did.
“Silver! Bloody silver!” she swore. “71-Hour Ahmed had it too. They’ve done their research.”
“You two, get in there. I’ll hold them off,” Carrot said calmly. In the confusion he’d picked up Cheery’s axe, which while usually quite the faux pas in dwarf circles, didn’t seem to bother him too much here. He’d also drawn his sword, wielding both, standing wide across the corridor.
“Captain! Don’t be a fool!” Vimes ordered.
The footsteps were getting closer. Carrot tensed and readied.
“Captain!”
“Bingley-Bingley-Beep. Return home to Ankh-Morpork,” the demon chimed like a death knell.
Vimes’ heart sank. He could see the horrible pattern unfolding around him. Carrot turned, gave him one last nod, and then charged at his approaching enemy, screaming like a dwarf.
“Carrot!” Angua leapt towards him, only to find Vimes’ arm around her waist, dragging her into the office. She struggled, but he threw her in, then bolted and barred the door with a chair.
“We need to go,” Vimes growled, marching to the window.
“But Carrot-”
“He’s dead. They’re all dead,” Vimes hissed. “They’re all dead because of that damned island. Because of this damned war. Because of-”
“Bingley-Bingley-Beep. To do today-”
“AND YOU CAN SHUT UP AND ALL!” He hurled the Dis-Organiser at the wall, its case splintering against the brickwork.
He marched to the window and looked down. There were soldiers all over the yard, the street, and every one of them had gathered around the building. There was no way out. He looked back into the office, where Angua was on the floor. She looked like she should be weeping, but she was just staring at the door.
“That stupid, stupid, hero of a man,” she cursed him, eyes filling with tears. “Always having to do the right thing.”
Vimes slammed his hands into his desk. No way out. No hope. No survival. And then his eye landed on the Dis-Organiser. The broken, confused, annoying little…
Like a parting cloud, like the eye of the storm, he remembered. He’d been in this room. He’d had a choice to make. And after that, the Dis-Organiser had been wrong. Something about that moment. That choice.
He nearly didn’t stay. What if he’d have gone instead of staying?
They might still be alive.
Vimes breathed a sigh. In a way, being doomed felt quite liberating. No way of changing it, no more worries, no more reason to panic. There was just whatever life he had left to live.
But he did still have responsibilities.
“Angua,” he addressed, pulling her off the floor.
She couldn’t answer.
“I need you to get out of here. Find Sybil. Find Vetinari. Find anyone really, make sure they’re okay.”
“What about you? I can fight?” she tried to rally. She failed.
“With silver in their weapons, you’re as mortal as me. But you’re faster than me. You can get out that window and get away. I need you to find them, Angua. Maybe there’s hope yet.”
Angua went to argue, but couldn’t. She just looked him sadly in the eye.
“But what about you?” she finally said.
Vimes nodded. He looked over to the broken device on the floor.
“Dis-Organiser?” he beckoned.
“Y-Y-Yes, Insert New User Here?”
“To Do List.”
“Please enter To Do List.”
“To Do Today: Die.”
The machine gave a little affirming beep then fell silent.
Angua just nodded. As Vimes approached the door, there was a noise, and when he looked back there was a wolf at the window. With its jaws it threw open the window and leapt out onto the sill, and then along until it could jump to another house. Arrows flew up at it, but none met their mark.
Vimes turned back to the door. The wood buckled. Vimes readied his weapons. Finally, in a surge of splinters and blades, Vimes met his enemy.
“Bingley-Bingley-Beep. To Do Today: Arrest Vetinari.”
COMMANDER VIMES?
Vimes looked around. There was a body on the floor at his feet.
“How did I survive that?” he wondered.
YOU DIDN’T.
Vimes looked up. He looked up into hollow sockets and tiny blue pinpricks.
“Oh. I see.”
I BELIEVE THAT YOU DO.
“I guess that’s it then,” he accepted. “Tell me, are Sybil and Vetinari alright? Nobby and Colon?”
THAT ISN’T REALLY MY DEPARTMENT, MR VIMES.
“No. I suppose it isn’t, is it… But that means you haven’t seen them recently?” Vimes said hopefully.
NO, BUT THIS HAS BEEN QUITE A BUSY DAY. I WOULD LIKELY STILL REMEMBER THEM THOUGH.
“That’s good. That’s good,” Vimes sighed, as his form began to fade. “And what about that other Vimes? The one the Dis-Organiser was talking about?”
TIME AND SPACE ARE QUITE ODD, COMMANDER. WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN BUT WASN’T. AT LEAST NOT HERE.
“But is he alive?”
OH, I BELIEVE SO.
“And he ended the war?”
IN A SENSE, YES.
“And did he live happily? With Sybil?”
IT IS NOT MY PLACE TO JUDGE, BUT I THINK SO.
“That’s good,” Vimes accepted. “That’s good too.”
Finally, his form faded, and Death moved on to the next person in the building.
#Like brainrot this took root in my brain#I wrote it in a single day#I'm sorry#The bit in Jingo where it reports their deaths is chilling#This was too big an idea for me not to do it#Again I'm sorry. But I'm also kind of proud.#discworld#gnu terry pratchett#writeblr#lamura dex writes!#discworld fanfic#sam vimes#angua von uberwald#carrot ironfoundersson#Sergeant Detritus#cheery littlebottom#jingo#This is a lot of tags#fanfic
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
1/2 of the way through Thud! and...
The fact that so many comments on my last post were confused about the love triangle filled me with hope. and you all were right. Right after where I stopped for the day, Sally won me over. I guess Angua is dealing with her own character development which is great. I’d say the vampire vs. werewolf thing is tired but to the book’s credit, it was published in 2005 so that’s not the book’s fault.
Carrot is still at his weakest here. But Detritus! I love that he’s just grabbed this kid and decided it was his now. Brick’s won me over too. I look forward to seeing these two more.
The ease in which Brick casually mentions he watched a guy murder another one. Beautiful. Also. Also. My prediction!
I predict the grag was in on it. The one who died? He planned it so that the race war would start again, that’s what I think’s going on here.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
One of my favourite bits in Thud! is when Detritus shouts at Vimes about how he treats trolls.
“What you doin,’ Mister Vimes? Why you go on askin’ questions? Wi’ the dwarfs you have pussy feet, must not upset ’em, oh no, but what you do if dey was trolls, eh? Kick down der door, no problem! Mr. Shine bring you Brick, give you good advice, an’ you talk like he bein’ a bad troll! I’m hearin’ now where Captain Carrot, he tellin’ the dwarfs he the Two Brothers. You fink that make me happy? We know dat lyin’ ol’ dwarf lie, yes! We groan at it lyin,’ yes! You want to see Mr. Shine, you show humble, you show respec,’ yes!”
[...]
“Should I take anything, Sergeant?”
The troll thought about this. “No,” he said, “but maybe dere’s some finkin’ you could leave behind.”
It feels like it's not just Detritus pointing out that Vimes doesn't respect trolls, but also Pterry acknowledging that he hasn't shown much respect to trolls, either. Dwarf culture has been extensively built up, we've dived into the lives and perspectives of werewolves and vampires and feegles and golems and anthropomorphic personifications, but despite being present in the series from the very beginning, there's no troll book.
A few pages later, I once again feel like Mr. Shine is talking to the reader as well when he tells Vimes how little he really knows about trolls.
“You really know very little about us, Mister Vimes. You see us down on the plains, shambling around, talkin’ like dis. You don’t know about the history chant, or the Long Dance, or stone music. You see the hunched troll dragging his club."
This little bit fills me with so much longing for a troll book he never wrote! I want to know about the history chant! I want to see the Long Dance and read about stone music!
We're told frequently that the trolls in Ankh-Morpork are operating at a slower processing speed but that they thrive in the icy mountains, and I'm so sad that we never got a book set in a troll cultural centre.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The fine Rank and File (or at least the rank) of the Ankh Morpork city watch! I've been figuring out my designs for them, and I wanted to put them in a lineup to see how they look beside one another. makes you realize how ridiculous the height difference between some of them is
[ID: three digital drawings of the Watch members, against a police lineup background with height marks and an ankh morpork city watch watermark and logo. The featured members are in order of height: Detritus, Dorfl, Carrot, Angua. then Reg Shoe, Visit, Colon, and Vimes. finally, Nobby, Cheery, Buggy Swires and Wee Mad Arthur. they are all wearing variations on the watch uniform of brass colored armor, chainmaille, leather boots or sandals, and a skirt of studded leather straps. end ID]
more detailed description of the designs under the cut
First drawing: standing at over 8 feet is Dorfl. He is a grey-green troll with a very muscled top heavy build, patches of moss on his skin, and angular features. He is wearing oversized armor with pauldrons, one with sergeant's stripes painted on it, and scale mail underneath. the Piece Maker (a siege weapon crossbow) is strapped to his back. second, standing at 7 foot 4 inches is Dorfl, a reddish Golem made out of patchwork clay, with a overall gingerbread man look, and glowing red eyes. he is only wearing a breastplate, and he has his sergeant's stripes painted on his arm. Third at 6 foot 6 inches is Carrot. He is a redheaded white human, with a sturdy build, round face, and a cheerful smile. he has a captains pip pin in the collar of his shirt and his armor is visibly shinier than all the other's. fourth at 6 foot 2 inches is Angua. she is a white human with lots of very light blonde hair and slightly pointed ears. Her armor has straps at the shoulder rather than being one piece, and she is wearing her badge on a collar. (end of first drawing)
Second drawing: first, standing at 6 ish feet is Reg Shoe. He is a green zombie with a hunched posture and several missing chunks and lines of stitching visible, most noticeably the right half of his mouth has no lips, exposing his teeth. he wearing a tattered and patched flow-y white shirt under his armor, which is also the strap style, and there is a red ribbon in his long-ish dirty blonde hair. second at 5 foot 9 inches is constable Visit. He is a brown skinned human, with slicked back 80's business guy hair and a slightly strained smile. He is wearing a very crisp white shirt under his armor as well as khaki pants and a Omnian turtle necklace. he is clutching a bundle of pamphlets. Third at 5 foot 6 inches is Colon. He is a white human with a heavy-set build, a mustache, and a large bald spot. his armor has sculpted muscles in it and he is wearing sandals. Fourth at barely 5 foot 4 inches is Vimes. He is a white human with messy greying brown hair, and a five o-clock shadow, he looks a bit like house era Hugh Laurie. along with his armor he is wearing a red cloak and a sword. (end of second drawing)
Third Drawing: First, standing at 4 foot nothing, is Nobby Nobbs. he is a white-ish human with vitiligo spots, several suspiciously red or green patches of skin, and very scruffy black hair and a five o-clock shadow. he is smoking a cigarette and has several dog ends behind his ear. he has managed to tarnish his armor. second, at 3 foot 4 inches is Cheery. She is a white dwarf with a stocky build, blonde hair and a blond, braided beard. she has some burns on her arms, ears, and forehead, and is missing her eyebrows. she has a full lentgh leather skirt rather than pants. third, at 7 inches is Buggy Swires. he is a brown skinned Gnome, with grey hair and pointed ears. he is not wearing armor, but instead a rain cloak. next to him is his pigeon, which carries his badge and is a foot tall. Finally, at 4 inches, is Wee Mad Arthur. he is a blue nac mac feegle with red hair. he is in a watch uniform with a kilt, and is carrying his badge like a shield on his back, unlike the others he has a dynamic aggressive stance, rather than standing straight up. (end of third picture)
background of all drawings: a lineup height marker background, with the initials AM (ankh) CW and the city seal in the top right corner. the city seal is two hippos on a shield, with a tower between them. they are in shades of copper or bronze, as is the overall color palate of the drawings. (end of ID)
#discworld#gnu terry pratchett#Samuel vimes#nobby nobbs#angua von uberwald#cheery littlebottom#carrot ironfoundersson#reg shoe#detritus#dorfl#visit the infidel with explanatory pamphlets#buggy swires#wee mad arthur#I think i went a little too hard making vimes look like hugh laurie but the idea wouldnt leave my mind#I went full squeaky clean evangelist for visit#and gay french revolutionary for reg#happiest with dorfl he looks exactly how i imagine#also next time ill give angua more hair i swear
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Discworld Fight Club 2023 Masterpost
Welcome to the biggest rumble the Disc has ever seen! Thrill as some of the turtle's premier brawlers, assassins, vampires, magic users, and tricksters face off in a five-round tournament to see who's the best of the best!
But first, please read the Rules:
Remember to vote based on who you think would win in a fight, not necessarily who is your favorite character. This is a tournament, not a popularity contest!
These fighters are good guys and shouldn't really bear any real animus toward each other, so consider this a more or less friendly event where no one is literally trying to murder anyone. So, when considering what weapons and techniques a character might use, think more in terms of how they'd incapacitate one another. That might involve using weaponry of course, but like, maybe Detritus shouldn't have access to the Piecemaker, is the kind of thing I mean, ha.
A contestant can win by knocking their opponent out, making them 'say uncle' so to speak, or even tricking them somehow! Think about the characters' strengths beyond, well, physical strength!
Successfully running away counts as a victory for the runner, not as a default win for the contestant left behind.
Reblogging and replying to the polls, especially with commentary on your reasoning for your vote, would be super fun and I hope a lot of people will do that! I tried to seed the bracket so the matchups are interesting, and I think there's some room for debate on a lot of them even at the start. Have fun!
So without further ado, let's have Discworld Fight Club 2023!
This will be updated as the rounds progress, with links to each poll. Winners on each match are in bold.
Round 1:
Part A--
Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Maladict
Match 2: Moist von Lipwig vs. Dr. Whiteface
Match 3: Ghenghiz Cohen vs. Reg Shoe
Match 4: Mrs. Erzulie Gogol vs. Rob Anybody Feegle
Match 5: Detritus vs. the Dean of Pentacles
Match 6: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. Susan Sto Helit
Match 7: Mr. Nutt vs. Harry King
Match 8: The Librarian vs. Queen Magrat Garlick
Part B--
Match 1: Lord Havelock Vetinari vs. Willikins
Match 2: Adora Belle Dearheart vs. Mr. Pump
Match 3: Gytha "Nanny" Ogg vs. Sergeant Cheery Littlebottom
Match 4: Lu-Tze vs. Otto Chriek
Match 5: Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully vs. Polly Perks
Match 6: Jason Ogg vs. Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson
Match 7: Sergeant Angua von Uberwald vs. Rincewind
Match 8: Agnes "Perdita X Dream" Nitt vs. Sergeant Jack Jackrum
Round 2:
Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Moist von Lipwig
Match 2: Ghenghiz Cohen the Barbarian vs. Rob Anybody Feegle
Match 3: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. Detritus
Match 4: Mr. Nutt vs. the Librarian
Match 5: Lord Havelock Vetinari vs. Adora Belle Dearheart
Match 6: Gytha "Nanny" Ogg vs. Lu-Tze
Match 7: Archancellor Mustrum Ridcully vs. Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson
Match 8: Sergeant Angua von Uberwald vs. Sergeant Jack Jackrum
Round 3:
Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Rob Anybody Feegle
Match 2: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. the Librarian
Match 3: Lord Havelock Vetinari vs. Gytha "Nanny" Ogg
Match 4: Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson vs. Sergeant Angua von Uberwald
Round 4:
Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax
Match 2: Gytha "Nanny" Ogg vs. Sergeant Angua von Uberwald
Round 5:
Final: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. Gytha "Nanny" Ogg
Granny Weatherwax has taken the title!! Thanks for participating, everyone! It's been a really fun week of battles, just as I'd hoped! And it's all thanks to you guys, for voting and commenting some pretty insightful and funny stuff! I definitely encourage everybody to go into the match links above and check out the notes if they haven't been doing so all along.
And thus ends Discworld Fight Club 2023!
557 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tears of time
Content Warning: major character injury, Simon “Ghost” Riley’s backstory (adapted to my cause), can be read as major character death, major character injury
I’m going to try to update this every week! And I want to try something new, so I’m going to add polls to let you decide where you want this to go! Sharing is highly encouraged!
It started out as a regular morning in April when Simon Riley’s world shattered, and even time herself was moved to the point of tears.
They were ugly things, wicked and jagged and salty enough to leave burnt earth in their caustic wake, worse even than the rotting dead soil from which he had dug himself, burning beneath the desert sun until his skin turned red and flaked off dry and useless. He shed himself of the fear, the dirt and the epithelium, to reduce himself down to his core — painful, swollen red flesh ripe with infection. Cells bursting and spilling toxic deluge into his system with every move he made, stumbling beneath the unforgiving sun. His path until here had been harrowing, a nightmare that she couldn’t have dreamed any better herself, a cautionary tale of cockiness and end results.
Perhaps time should have cried back then already, but she hadn’t. She watched, she waited, she plotted and drank his dread like expensive red wine, and washed it down with his sorrow and the grief, watched him crawl out of his grave, out of his skin, something other, something that shouldn’t have been. Something that should have died and rotted with the broken, mangled jaw of Major Vernon. Instead, time let herself pass on the opportunity to catch him and on a whim aligned his path with a young sergeant from a Mexican special unit. A kind soul, one she knew she would take from, time and time again she would strip him down the same way she stripped them all, skin from muscle and muscle from bone, until they were grief-stricken and pained shells of their former selves, until they were nothing but a raw nerve, humbled by experience and the things they took for granted until she liberated them from their mindless grasp.
Perhaps she hadn’t cried for Simon Riley then because he’d only been a man. A sad man, a dry husk of a person. He’d danced across her battle fields, knocking into things like bran, uselessly dry and brittle, flakes of a core that had once been lively — before time had sunk her claws into him and ravaged him.
But when Simon Riley lost John MacTavish, time cried. His pain was too much for her, too intense did his anguish cover her lips and her eyes, sealing the tumultuous emotions inside instead of letting them pass through her, and perhaps for the first time in her entire existence, time opened her mouth and breathed. And did the cold, dank air of the abandoned Russian military complex bite her delicate throat and burn her sensitive nostrils. Diesel exhaust and old chemical agents cut into unused skin, ripped away the layer of stardust and cosmic detritus that had settled on her throughout the aeons of laziness.
Time cried, ravaged by her own hands and the pain they caused, and decided with tears brimming on her waterlines, that Simon Riley wouldn’t have to endure her without the man that humanised him. She decided that even a creature as wretched as Simon Riley deserved something as uniquely mundane and confusingly, singularly spectacular as love.
Time watched the last of her tears fall, and then cracked her spine before she got to work.
#fanfiction#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghoap#rodolfo parra#alejandro vargas#no beta I bite my own bullet
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Vy are ve stoppink?" said Otto.
"That's Sergeant Detritus on the gate," said William.
"Ah. A troll. Very stupid," opined Otto.
"But hard to fool. I'm afraid I shall have to try the truth."
"Vy vill that vork?"
"He's a policeman. The truth usually confuses them. They don't often hear it."
Terry Pratchett, The Truth
#otto von chriek#william de worde#detritus#the truth#discworld#terry pratchett#vampires#trolls#truth#lies#persuasion#lie detector#intelligence#perception#police#law enforcement#rarity#hard to fool#the truth confuses them
198 notes
·
View notes
Text
Y’know, it’s a shame that we never got to see an actual interaction between Fred and his wife in the Discworld books. I mean, we *hear* about them interacting and get an idea of what their relationship is like from that, and I also understand it’s a part of the joke about them being so busy they communicate through notes they leave for each other, but still. We don’t even learn the woman’s first name.
Yet, despite this I’ve managed to piece together what little information we’re get about her throughout the Watch books to get a general idea about what she’s like and what she does that keeps her so busy all the time. So, let’s review what we do know for sure about this woman of mystery.
She has a job that keeps her extremely busy.
She’s been doing said job for at least as long as she’s been married to Fred.
She is one of the few people that will directly call out Sergeant Colon when he’s being an idiot.
She and Fred have kids and grandchildren.
She seems to enjoy interior decorating.
She can cook well.
She most likely has known Sam since he joined the Watch and Nobby since he was a kid. Also, at this point it’s fair to assume she’s met the other important watchmen as well. (Carrot, Angua, Detritus, Cheery, etc.)
Personality-wise, I’d say she’s a nice but a very no nonsense type of person. Patient, but only to a certain point. Very hard worker and tends to get absorbed in her job. She obviously loves her husband, but she can get easily exasperated with him. Her feelings about him are probably best summed up with something like: He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot.
As far as her work goes, I think she’s either an antique dealer or an interior designer. This is because an interesting little detail I picked up on in Jingo. Fred brings her back souvenirs (which is really sweet tbh) and they’re furniture/decorating stuff. Plus it’s mentioned in the books that’s she often asks Fred’s help decorating their house and moving furniture. So if she’s an interior designer, she might sometimes keep some of the furniture she uses for her clients there, and if she’s and antique dealer she might run her business from their house. After all owning a proper shop is expensive and Ankh-Morpork is low on space.
#the truth has it’s boots on: ooc#jane rambles#discworld#fred colon#nobby nobbs#sam vimes#carrot ironfoundersson#angua von uberwald#headology: headcanons#also she’s probably met Shine of the Rainbow at least once since she saved her husband#probably brought over a pie or something to thank her idk
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
"No."
'Sergeant, I order you: Shoot him down.'
In one movement the troll had the crossbow balanced on his shoulder and was sighting along the massive package of arrows.
Tantony went pale.
"Well, go on," said Vimes. "It was an order, Sergeant." Detritus lowered the bow.
"I ain't dat fick, sir."
"I gave you an order!"
"Den you can do wid that order what Boulder der Lintel did wid his bag of gravel, sir! Wid respect, o' course.
Vimes walked across and patted the shaking Tantony on his shoulder,
"Just making a point," he said.
SAM FUCKING MENTAL VIMES.
This is Sam Vimes at his best. And Detritus has an amazing glow up!
#discworld#sam vimes#leave sam vimes alone#someboby are in trouble#the fifth elephant#gnu terry pratchett#detritus
79 notes
·
View notes
Quote
‘That’s Sergeant Detritus on the gate,’ said William.
‘Ah. A troll. Very stupid,’ opined Otto.
‘But hard to fool. I’m afraid I shall have to try the truth.’
‘Vy vill zat vork?’
‘He’s a policeman. The truth usually confuses them. They don’t often hear it.’
Terry Pratchett - The Truth
#Terry Pratchett#discworld quotes#GNU Terry Pratchett#quotes#The Truth#William de Worde#Otto Chriek#Detritus#Sergeant Detritus#trolls#policeman#truth
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
Characters from the Terry Pratchett's Disc World - Sergeant Detritus, Cohen the Barbarian and Corporal Nobby Nobbs with Sergeant Fred Colon.
Art of Peter Kothe
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ultimate Showdown, but it's Discworld
A dragon was rampaging around
Ankh-Morpork like a big playground
When suddenly Sam Vimes burst out of the Mended Drum
And readied the crossbow’s trigger with his thumb
The dragon got mad and descended upon
But didn’t expect to be blocked by Hrun
Who took Kring the magic sword from out the corner
When Captain Carrot arrived, in shining armor
Then he beat up Hrun like he was on a mission
And Vimes felt like he was being watched by the Patrician
Before he could make it back to Sator Square
Bloody S. Johnson swooped in from nowhere
And took the Gonne out from under his coat
And missed Vimes, he instead got Cut-Me-Own-Throat
But Death caught up and said, “Today is not your day,”
While Sergeant Detritus rushed into the fray
This is the greatest battle in Discworld’s History
Wizards, Witches, and explosions as far as the eye can see
The gods are watching the scene from Cori Celesti
This is the greatest battle in Discworld’s History
The dragon unleashed fire upon the troll
Also igniting Gaspode, who was on a stroll
And then Hrun came back, ready to hack and sack
But the Librarian jumped out and landed on his back
And Sam Vimes was injured and trying not to swoon
When Bloody S. Johnson returned with the clockwork spoon
But suddenly something caught his leg and he fell
Angua took him out with her fluffy tail
Then she saw the dragon sneaking up from behind
And she reached for her sword which she just couldn't find
Cause Vimes borrowed it and he swung and he missed
And the Librarian deflected it with his fist (ouch!)
Then he jumped in the air and he went ook
While Johnson got hit by a magic book
Where sparks of Octarine flew into the air
Then the Luggage gave them a big ol’ scare
This is the greatest battle in Discworld’s History
Wizards, Witches, and explosions as far as the eye can see
The gods are watching the scene from Cori Celesti
This is the greatest battle in Discworld’s History
Ravens crowed, and out of the sky they dived
While on her broomstick, Granny Weatherwax arrived
Who delivered a glare, which could turn babies old
Into the face of Angua von Uberwald
Who crumbled to the ground, convinced she’s made of dough
As Sam Vimes took out his crossbow
But Granny saw him readying a shot
And she caught the arrow, which was red hot
Then Susan Sto Helit, and Death of Rats
And Maurice and his amazing Rodents, running past
And Tiffany Aching with her frying pan
And lady Sybil Ramkin, Duchess of Ankh
Adora Belle, Moist von Lipwig and Lord Vetinari
Mustrum Ridcully and the whole Unseen University
Leonard of Quirm and Cheery Littlebottom
Twoflower, Pretty Butterfly, Lotus Blossom
All came out of nowhere lightning fast
And they kicked Granny all the way into the past
It was the most magical battle that the Disc ever saw
With civilians looking on in total awe
The fight raged on for a century
Death was quite busy but eventually
The champion stood, the rest saw their last hope
Rincewind in his raggedy robe
This is the greatest battle in Discworld’s History
Wizards, Witches, and explosions as far as the eye can see
The gods are watching the scene from Cori Celesti
This is the greatest battle in Discworld’s History
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lord Vetinari studied the bulging, dripping ceiling. "Mmm, yes. I'd say repairs are indeed in order." He turned to Vimes. "May I ask how it happened?"
"Well, Sir, it's just that Pseudopolis Yard wasn't built to house-" Sergeant Detritus lumbered past. Vimes cleared his throat. "Uh ... so many people."
"Ah. Perhaps you might move the locker rooms downstairs?"
A faint moan made them look towards the stairs to the second floor. Drumknott was leaning heavily on the wall and coming downstairs on legs that visibly wobbled.
Vetinari strode forward and held out an arm for the man to support himself on. "What is the matter, Drumknott?"
"Oh, Sir! Oh, my lord, it's horrible!" He was white as a sheep, except for a greenish tinge, like the sheep had rolled in new-cut grass. His eyes were wide and fixed on something far away that haunted him. "I've never ... Not in my worst nightmares ... Oh, Sir!" He buried his face in Vetinari's cravat and sobbed like a child.
Vetinari patted him on the back. "Dear me. Commander Vimes?" he called lightly.
"Yessir?"
"Please do something about the state of your office."
"I have a system, Sir."
Drumknott howled into the cravat.
Vetinari patted him faster. "There, there, Drumknott. Let's get you back to your nice, sorted filing cabinets. I'll even let you reorganise my desk, as a special treat."
"There's nothing wrong with my system!" Vimes called after them as they left. "You can even see the floor in some places!"
#Discworld#Havelock Vetinari#Rufus Drumknott#Sam Vimes#A bit of nonsense#my posts#Will you look at that it lacks a beginning AND an ending#whelp I'm posting it anyway
359 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
vev-vev
vev
greatoaffarmshepherd
Unbetitelt
wesokkasimp
"...the love of my life and comrade in arms..."
bekinsurance
Bek Insurance