06-10-2018, 11:25 PM
Samuel Vimes HATED the Omniverse. He marched through the darkness of Minas Tirith with the nightwatchman’s two best friends bouncing from his belt loops. Things had been bad in Ankh-Morpork, alright, bad was such an understatement a well-dressed gentleman with a particular accent was asking to move into its basement, but it hadn’t been like THIS. There was no rhyme or reason to the place was the thing, he decided. When you lived a place long enough, a copper should get a sense of what to expect from it. You knew which of the beggars would give you the chatter, and which would try to nab yer lunch money. You learned exactly which tavern to avoid on which nights and exactly how far into the Ankh a certain stone would sink*, it was just the way of things.
But here in the Bleedin’ Omniverse it keeps changing all the time! he growled as he stomped his boots on the doorstop of the drooping gnome and entered. Unpleased and unpleasant faces met him in equal turn, but Vimes just tipped his helm in their direction and moved to his usual spot by the pile of soot and ash that a very generous person might once have agreed was a fireplace. He leaned back in the chair as the barkeep moved over towards him with a bottle of something cheap. Vimes always preferred cheap drink, wine was for the nobs who wanted to play pretend at getting drunk. A poor man knows how to do it for keeps.
“You’re right hoppin’ tonight Stephi.” Vimes commented, watching the barkeep’s nervous glance as he filled the mug.
“We ain’t doin’ nothing ee-legal here cap’n” the man answered a bit testily, handing Vimes the mug. The Watchmen took it, and added a little somethin’ somethin’ from the flask at his hip.
“And I didn’t say you were, Step.” Vimes responded matter-of-factly, raising the mug towards his face, “I’m just a man looking to rest up and take his mind off things after a long day’s work, so you can tell Itchy and Warty to stop fingering them daggers and get on with their evenings. It’ll be the best for the… BLOODY HELL!”
The captain of the nightwatch nearly fell from his chair as the gutted fireplace burst into radiant flame. Cries of “Alarm!” and “Black magic!” chorused from the room. Vimes couldn’t blame them. That event alone would have been enough to shock the standard patron who found the drooping gnome sufficiently exciting a locale, but even Vimes could admit that the half-moon spectacles and large beard that watched him from within the flames positively reeked of the OTHER thing Vimes hated.
“Dumbledore?” the guard captain asked, one hand futily trying to staunch a growing stain with an equally unclean kerchief, “What’re you doing in the firepit?” The face looked at him with a twinkle and a faint smile, but spoke with urgency.
“I needed your tactical advice with a… somewhat clandestine matter. Is it possible we could speak somewhere more… private?” Vimes swung his head around at the mob of nervous gawkers, their faces hovering between outright fear and rapt attention. He just had to give them a nudge.
“Last one out of the pub’ll be shackled for impedin’ an officer o’ the law!” Vimes hollered, then turned back to the Headmaster’s face as the tavern exploded into panicked flight, “That, whosname, inconspicuous enough for you, Prof?”
“It shall do for the moment.” Dumbledore answered, “There has been an intrusion to our vaults. My knowledge of the event is still incomplete, but it seems that the astronomers have gotten quite flustered.” Vimes glanced at his mug, frowning at its contents, or rather the lack thereof.
“So, someone’s after that star-whatsit? Sounds serious enough, I suppose. Also sounds pretty… uh… in medium rest, so I don’t know what kinda help you want me to give your Dalaran coppers from this end of the fireplace?” Vimes said with a sinking feeling. Not sinking precisely, more like circling the drain.
“Ah, see, I was hoping you could make a rather more personal appearance. I’ve already sent an associate to come collect you. If your willing, of course.”
“Of course.” Vimes parroted back to the simple smile in the fireplace. Like he could refuse the most powerful wizard in Camelot. As if he had been waiting for permission**, the tidiest dwarf that Vimes had ever seen materialized into the room with a snapping sound and a burst of sulphur smell. He gave a look of disdain that only someone who’s used to good food and good armchairs can give, and muttered to himself. Herself? Vimes thought with concern. Blasted Omniverse making things even more complicated. Some of the female dwarfs here had beards and some didn’t. Try explaining that one to a troll, and see where it gets you!
“I will never get that smell out!” the dwarf fussed, with a surprisingly nasally voice, “Are you ready Lord Captain?” Vimes sighed with the weight of one who finds loadstones excellent trampolines and nodded.
“Then let’s be off.” The Dwarf said, pulling a string from a pocket in his belt and poking its needle through a link in Vimes’ hauberk, “Should warn you,…”
CRACK! The world split in fifteen different ways and Vimes’ blurry vision thought he saw a thatched roof.
“that I…”
CRACK! Stone walls and Aragorn’s banner.
“cannot tele…”
CRACK! Just trees now, though they seemed to be in the air.
“…port to Dalaran…”
CRACK! Still trees.
“in a single…”
CRACK! Trees. And a very startled falcon.
“Trip due to the…”
CRACK! There might have been a river down there?
“Nature of the Om…”
CRACK! There was some sort of dark line… that was certain.
“…niverse. So please tell…”
CRACK! Back to trees. Vimes wondered how his internals were kept together through all of this, and immediately regretted it.
“me If you experien...”
CRACK! Trees. Vimes thought he could see a city in the sky, but at this point he just wanted to hold down dinner.
“…ce any discomf…”
CRACK! It wasn’t the sulphur smell, though that wasn’t helping the matter, that made teleporting so nauseating.
“ort during our…”
CRACK! That had to be Dalaran, right?
“trip. Okay?”
CRACK! Stone buildings. quite close. It wasn’t the smell, it was the fact that you didn’t bleeding get a chance to finish your…
CRACK! A study, and a nice one at that.
“Made it!” announced the dwarf pleasantly.
Thoughts.
Vimes sagged into a convenient chair, eyes clamped shut and hands seeking to crush his own temples. He hated wizards. Vimes hated them even more than the Omniverse, he decided. But at least he could do something about wizards. They tended to break just as easily, or more so, as everybody else. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing. People couldn’t blame him for that, could they? His musings were cut short by an offering of tea. Vimes forced his eyes open, to look into the bespectacled face of Dalaran’s archmage.
“It can be a little jarring until you get used to it.” Dumbledore spoke, eyes twinkling with the same benign bemusement that absolutely drove Vimes up the wall.
“I’m here now,” Vimes snapped, upending the precious few drops left in his hipflask into the tea, “How are things going?”
Dumbledore moved over towards a stone basin and peered into it, the greenish-blue light illuminating his face from below. Vimes got up to follow then immediately decided to sit back down. At least until the edges of things stopped tangoing around for a moment. Dumbledore glanced up at the green-faced guard captain then decided to explain.
“the thief’s in the streets now. We’re trying to cordon off his expected route, to prevent him from disappearing into a crowd. He seems to be making his way towards the stairs.” A spray of tea disturbed the surface of the pensive, causing Dumbledore to glance up again.
“You lot put bloody stairs on your floating city?” Vimes hollered incredulously, for the moment ignoring his internal gymnastics.
“No, it was a visiting prime, though the merchants were quite keen to keep them in repair once they noticed.” Dumbledore said, giving Vimes a look that the guard captain couldn’t immediately place.
“Well bugger that lot! If you’re going to do something like this then you blime well better commit to the idea. How else is he gonna get off?”
“That was much our line of thought, so for the moment we have just been guiding his progress through the streets. He wants to make for the stairs, we make sure that’s where he’s heading.”
“And you block him there?” Vimes said, feeling strong enough to cross the distance between chair and basin. It was a trial. The view in the basin shifted between several of the gargoyles that lined the buildings of Dalaran. It seemed that the perp had managed to find the exit to the vaults, but there was still an awful lot of city between him and these supposed stairs…
“It could work, but it feels like you’re putting all your chicks in one pie. If he gets down those stairs we’re plum outta luck. He’ll just scarper into the woods and be gone.” Vimes though for a moment, shaking off the last bits of his travel sickness. “Can you show me a larger map of the city?”
Dumbledore nodded, then touched his wand to his temple, drawing a silvery strand from his head in a way that Vimes found entirely unpleasant. He looks just like Nobby when he’s… nope, focus on the job!
Dumbledore cast the strand into the pensive, and the image changed to a bird’s eye view of the city. The headmaster trailed a finger through the water, tracing a path of light from the vault towards the staircase.
“We are erecting some magical wards to limit his choices, and the golems are nearly awake. It’s been so long since someone invaded it seems that some of them were, quite out of repair.” Vimes nodded, looking at the route. It still felt risky to let him get that far. Then Vimes spotted something that made him grin.
“New plan. Get a crew to dismantle those stairs as soon as you can, throw a troll at ‘em I dunno.” Vimes’ mumbling started to build steam as his plan started to fit together, “Guide the perp towards there instead, and surround it as best as we can.”
Dumbledore glanced at the location on the map.
“The Unseen Library? That would certainly be an interesting pursuit. I fear however that it might provide refuge for our thief. Finding people in there can be notoriously difficult.” Vimes was now grinning with a madness that would cause a wild boar to think harder about whether they really wanted to get involved with something that off its rocker.
“We just need to get him into the library. One of my best men… er… I got one of my best coppers in there. Trust me.”
*Two or three inches, depending on how absorbent the river scum was feeling on that particular day
** He had, in fact, been waiting for the third north star to decide if it was in alignment or not, which can be seen as permission after a certain fashion.
But here in the Bleedin’ Omniverse it keeps changing all the time! he growled as he stomped his boots on the doorstop of the drooping gnome and entered. Unpleased and unpleasant faces met him in equal turn, but Vimes just tipped his helm in their direction and moved to his usual spot by the pile of soot and ash that a very generous person might once have agreed was a fireplace. He leaned back in the chair as the barkeep moved over towards him with a bottle of something cheap. Vimes always preferred cheap drink, wine was for the nobs who wanted to play pretend at getting drunk. A poor man knows how to do it for keeps.
“You’re right hoppin’ tonight Stephi.” Vimes commented, watching the barkeep’s nervous glance as he filled the mug.
“We ain’t doin’ nothing ee-legal here cap’n” the man answered a bit testily, handing Vimes the mug. The Watchmen took it, and added a little somethin’ somethin’ from the flask at his hip.
“And I didn’t say you were, Step.” Vimes responded matter-of-factly, raising the mug towards his face, “I’m just a man looking to rest up and take his mind off things after a long day’s work, so you can tell Itchy and Warty to stop fingering them daggers and get on with their evenings. It’ll be the best for the… BLOODY HELL!”
The captain of the nightwatch nearly fell from his chair as the gutted fireplace burst into radiant flame. Cries of “Alarm!” and “Black magic!” chorused from the room. Vimes couldn’t blame them. That event alone would have been enough to shock the standard patron who found the drooping gnome sufficiently exciting a locale, but even Vimes could admit that the half-moon spectacles and large beard that watched him from within the flames positively reeked of the OTHER thing Vimes hated.
“Dumbledore?” the guard captain asked, one hand futily trying to staunch a growing stain with an equally unclean kerchief, “What’re you doing in the firepit?” The face looked at him with a twinkle and a faint smile, but spoke with urgency.
“I needed your tactical advice with a… somewhat clandestine matter. Is it possible we could speak somewhere more… private?” Vimes swung his head around at the mob of nervous gawkers, their faces hovering between outright fear and rapt attention. He just had to give them a nudge.
“Last one out of the pub’ll be shackled for impedin’ an officer o’ the law!” Vimes hollered, then turned back to the Headmaster’s face as the tavern exploded into panicked flight, “That, whosname, inconspicuous enough for you, Prof?”
“It shall do for the moment.” Dumbledore answered, “There has been an intrusion to our vaults. My knowledge of the event is still incomplete, but it seems that the astronomers have gotten quite flustered.” Vimes glanced at his mug, frowning at its contents, or rather the lack thereof.
“So, someone’s after that star-whatsit? Sounds serious enough, I suppose. Also sounds pretty… uh… in medium rest, so I don’t know what kinda help you want me to give your Dalaran coppers from this end of the fireplace?” Vimes said with a sinking feeling. Not sinking precisely, more like circling the drain.
“Ah, see, I was hoping you could make a rather more personal appearance. I’ve already sent an associate to come collect you. If your willing, of course.”
“Of course.” Vimes parroted back to the simple smile in the fireplace. Like he could refuse the most powerful wizard in Camelot. As if he had been waiting for permission**, the tidiest dwarf that Vimes had ever seen materialized into the room with a snapping sound and a burst of sulphur smell. He gave a look of disdain that only someone who’s used to good food and good armchairs can give, and muttered to himself. Herself? Vimes thought with concern. Blasted Omniverse making things even more complicated. Some of the female dwarfs here had beards and some didn’t. Try explaining that one to a troll, and see where it gets you!
“I will never get that smell out!” the dwarf fussed, with a surprisingly nasally voice, “Are you ready Lord Captain?” Vimes sighed with the weight of one who finds loadstones excellent trampolines and nodded.
“Then let’s be off.” The Dwarf said, pulling a string from a pocket in his belt and poking its needle through a link in Vimes’ hauberk, “Should warn you,…”
CRACK! The world split in fifteen different ways and Vimes’ blurry vision thought he saw a thatched roof.
“that I…”
CRACK! Stone walls and Aragorn’s banner.
“cannot tele…”
CRACK! Just trees now, though they seemed to be in the air.
“…port to Dalaran…”
CRACK! Still trees.
“in a single…”
CRACK! Trees. And a very startled falcon.
“Trip due to the…”
CRACK! There might have been a river down there?
“Nature of the Om…”
CRACK! There was some sort of dark line… that was certain.
“…niverse. So please tell…”
CRACK! Back to trees. Vimes wondered how his internals were kept together through all of this, and immediately regretted it.
“me If you experien...”
CRACK! Trees. Vimes thought he could see a city in the sky, but at this point he just wanted to hold down dinner.
“…ce any discomf…”
CRACK! It wasn’t the sulphur smell, though that wasn’t helping the matter, that made teleporting so nauseating.
“ort during our…”
CRACK! That had to be Dalaran, right?
“trip. Okay?”
CRACK! Stone buildings. quite close. It wasn’t the smell, it was the fact that you didn’t bleeding get a chance to finish your…
CRACK! A study, and a nice one at that.
“Made it!” announced the dwarf pleasantly.
Thoughts.
Vimes sagged into a convenient chair, eyes clamped shut and hands seeking to crush his own temples. He hated wizards. Vimes hated them even more than the Omniverse, he decided. But at least he could do something about wizards. They tended to break just as easily, or more so, as everybody else. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing. People couldn’t blame him for that, could they? His musings were cut short by an offering of tea. Vimes forced his eyes open, to look into the bespectacled face of Dalaran’s archmage.
“It can be a little jarring until you get used to it.” Dumbledore spoke, eyes twinkling with the same benign bemusement that absolutely drove Vimes up the wall.
“I’m here now,” Vimes snapped, upending the precious few drops left in his hipflask into the tea, “How are things going?”
Dumbledore moved over towards a stone basin and peered into it, the greenish-blue light illuminating his face from below. Vimes got up to follow then immediately decided to sit back down. At least until the edges of things stopped tangoing around for a moment. Dumbledore glanced up at the green-faced guard captain then decided to explain.
“the thief’s in the streets now. We’re trying to cordon off his expected route, to prevent him from disappearing into a crowd. He seems to be making his way towards the stairs.” A spray of tea disturbed the surface of the pensive, causing Dumbledore to glance up again.
“You lot put bloody stairs on your floating city?” Vimes hollered incredulously, for the moment ignoring his internal gymnastics.
“No, it was a visiting prime, though the merchants were quite keen to keep them in repair once they noticed.” Dumbledore said, giving Vimes a look that the guard captain couldn’t immediately place.
“Well bugger that lot! If you’re going to do something like this then you blime well better commit to the idea. How else is he gonna get off?”
“That was much our line of thought, so for the moment we have just been guiding his progress through the streets. He wants to make for the stairs, we make sure that’s where he’s heading.”
“And you block him there?” Vimes said, feeling strong enough to cross the distance between chair and basin. It was a trial. The view in the basin shifted between several of the gargoyles that lined the buildings of Dalaran. It seemed that the perp had managed to find the exit to the vaults, but there was still an awful lot of city between him and these supposed stairs…
“It could work, but it feels like you’re putting all your chicks in one pie. If he gets down those stairs we’re plum outta luck. He’ll just scarper into the woods and be gone.” Vimes though for a moment, shaking off the last bits of his travel sickness. “Can you show me a larger map of the city?”
Dumbledore nodded, then touched his wand to his temple, drawing a silvery strand from his head in a way that Vimes found entirely unpleasant. He looks just like Nobby when he’s… nope, focus on the job!
Dumbledore cast the strand into the pensive, and the image changed to a bird’s eye view of the city. The headmaster trailed a finger through the water, tracing a path of light from the vault towards the staircase.
“We are erecting some magical wards to limit his choices, and the golems are nearly awake. It’s been so long since someone invaded it seems that some of them were, quite out of repair.” Vimes nodded, looking at the route. It still felt risky to let him get that far. Then Vimes spotted something that made him grin.
“New plan. Get a crew to dismantle those stairs as soon as you can, throw a troll at ‘em I dunno.” Vimes’ mumbling started to build steam as his plan started to fit together, “Guide the perp towards there instead, and surround it as best as we can.”
Dumbledore glanced at the location on the map.
“The Unseen Library? That would certainly be an interesting pursuit. I fear however that it might provide refuge for our thief. Finding people in there can be notoriously difficult.” Vimes was now grinning with a madness that would cause a wild boar to think harder about whether they really wanted to get involved with something that off its rocker.
“We just need to get him into the library. One of my best men… er… I got one of my best coppers in there. Trust me.”
*Two or three inches, depending on how absorbent the river scum was feeling on that particular day
** He had, in fact, been waiting for the third north star to decide if it was in alignment or not, which can be seen as permission after a certain fashion.
Quote:Dalaran security is attempting to keep Demetri from getting out of sight or involving bystanders, but is not looking to directly combat him without reinforcements. They will call for you to surrender, and obviously if you give them a good shot they might take it, but they aren’t SWATing you. Yet. You can either let yourself be guided towards the Unseen Library or confront the blockades with soldiers and mid-strength mages. Your choice.
Due to the concurrence with Dante’s Abyss, you have two week’s time to respond to this post. Best of luck!