07-26-2018, 11:16 PM
Samuel Vimes watched the cleanup process of the stairs with an unavoidable desire to punch someone in the face. There hadn’t been anybody down here, thankfully, the golems had simply pulverized some poor farmer’s storehouse and fields. Said poor farmer was currently chewing the ear off one of Dalaran’s guardian attendants, but after their poor performance today, Vimes was more than willing to let that happen.
He wasn’t even really necessary at this point. The perp had disappeared off into the woods somewhere, and he didn’t have Angua to track him down here in the Omniverse. Could he maybe find a trustworthy werewolf in the Moors? Bah! Vimes kicked a small rock, aggravated with the lot of it. Aragorn up and asks him to be captain of the guard, asks him to keep the peace in this crazy messed up world and he doesn’t even have his best coppers for the job. It was heinous.
Again, Vimes wondered if he should stop being stubborn and just go and summon his whole squad to help out. People kept telling him the Omniverse wasn’t a prison, but Vimes couldn’t shake the feeling that reminded him of his time stuck during the Glorious Revolution of Ankh-Morpork. He wasn’t willing to get anybody else stuck here if he could help it.
He had barely conceded to summoning Errol and look where that had got him. The poor swamp dragon had taken something of the worse from the fight, since the tether had prevented him from getting away from his much larger foe. Errol had flown off towards Minas Tirith the moment he was freed, but he was listing to one side in a way that made Vimes a touch concerned.
It was just one thief! Sure, he had some of that weird Imperial tech stuff, but they had him cornered on a literally floating city! Vimes swatted at one of the ghost lamps that Dalaran was using to light the cleanup. The golems were apparently made from some particularly volatile magical components, that shouldn’t be left in the open. Their magical nature also apparently required that the pieces be recovered by hand.
Vimes pulled out a cigar and started searching his personage for his lighter, when a loud Crack! erupted behind him, causing the man to jump and spin about, nearly punching a smiling Dumbledore in the face before he caught himself.
“Ahem! Uh, evening professor!” Vimes muttered, his momentary embarrassment only deepening his need to sock someone good.
“Perp got away. Whoever let that dragon out needs to feel a boot somewhere unpleasant, if you ask me.” the guard captain said, finally finding his matches and lighting his cigar. Archmage and Captain watched the work in the field bathed with moonlight.
“that may be.” Dumbledore responded, unperturbed, “Or perhaps this is simply a warning? The stars fell in every verse. They are certainly not a secret. Yet we had hoped that a few of our agents could recover them without serious protection.” The elderly man turned to face Vimes, his halfmoon spectacles reflecting lunar light in a slightly unnerving way.
“We need to approach this problem with a touch more attention, I should think.” The archmage of Dalaran said with a smile. Vimes stared him down, giving a cynical grin in response as he chomped his cigar.
“A few of my fellows are currently speaking with the princess of Ambrosia, it seems we may have a lead on the Yellow fragment sooner than we expected.” Dumbledore nodded, seeming oddly content with the state of things so soon after having his vaults robbed.
“Ambrosia?” Vimes said with a very skeptical air, “Then you can count me out of it. You couldn’t pay me enough to even go near that sparkly wonderland.” Dumbledore nodded at Vimes’ declaration.
“I expected as much. I have instructed Minister Cadwell to prepare for your return trip, he should be arriving shortly.” As if on cue, that same dwarf appeared directly behind Vimes. The Guard captain jolted and swung, a solid right hook that sent the surprised dwarf to the ground in a daze. Bloody teleporters! Vimes thought, before turning to Dumbledore.
“If it’s all the same to you Prof. I’ll walk.”
He wasn’t even really necessary at this point. The perp had disappeared off into the woods somewhere, and he didn’t have Angua to track him down here in the Omniverse. Could he maybe find a trustworthy werewolf in the Moors? Bah! Vimes kicked a small rock, aggravated with the lot of it. Aragorn up and asks him to be captain of the guard, asks him to keep the peace in this crazy messed up world and he doesn’t even have his best coppers for the job. It was heinous.
Again, Vimes wondered if he should stop being stubborn and just go and summon his whole squad to help out. People kept telling him the Omniverse wasn’t a prison, but Vimes couldn’t shake the feeling that reminded him of his time stuck during the Glorious Revolution of Ankh-Morpork. He wasn’t willing to get anybody else stuck here if he could help it.
He had barely conceded to summoning Errol and look where that had got him. The poor swamp dragon had taken something of the worse from the fight, since the tether had prevented him from getting away from his much larger foe. Errol had flown off towards Minas Tirith the moment he was freed, but he was listing to one side in a way that made Vimes a touch concerned.
It was just one thief! Sure, he had some of that weird Imperial tech stuff, but they had him cornered on a literally floating city! Vimes swatted at one of the ghost lamps that Dalaran was using to light the cleanup. The golems were apparently made from some particularly volatile magical components, that shouldn’t be left in the open. Their magical nature also apparently required that the pieces be recovered by hand.
Vimes pulled out a cigar and started searching his personage for his lighter, when a loud Crack! erupted behind him, causing the man to jump and spin about, nearly punching a smiling Dumbledore in the face before he caught himself.
“Ahem! Uh, evening professor!” Vimes muttered, his momentary embarrassment only deepening his need to sock someone good.
“Perp got away. Whoever let that dragon out needs to feel a boot somewhere unpleasant, if you ask me.” the guard captain said, finally finding his matches and lighting his cigar. Archmage and Captain watched the work in the field bathed with moonlight.
“that may be.” Dumbledore responded, unperturbed, “Or perhaps this is simply a warning? The stars fell in every verse. They are certainly not a secret. Yet we had hoped that a few of our agents could recover them without serious protection.” The elderly man turned to face Vimes, his halfmoon spectacles reflecting lunar light in a slightly unnerving way.
“We need to approach this problem with a touch more attention, I should think.” The archmage of Dalaran said with a smile. Vimes stared him down, giving a cynical grin in response as he chomped his cigar.
“A few of my fellows are currently speaking with the princess of Ambrosia, it seems we may have a lead on the Yellow fragment sooner than we expected.” Dumbledore nodded, seeming oddly content with the state of things so soon after having his vaults robbed.
“Ambrosia?” Vimes said with a very skeptical air, “Then you can count me out of it. You couldn’t pay me enough to even go near that sparkly wonderland.” Dumbledore nodded at Vimes’ declaration.
“I expected as much. I have instructed Minister Cadwell to prepare for your return trip, he should be arriving shortly.” As if on cue, that same dwarf appeared directly behind Vimes. The Guard captain jolted and swung, a solid right hook that sent the surprised dwarf to the ground in a daze. Bloody teleporters! Vimes thought, before turning to Dumbledore.
“If it’s all the same to you Prof. I’ll walk.”