The second celebration in as many months was in full swing. The former manor house that was serving as the work station had food and refreshments in many of its various hosting room, though the rooms where the work had been done was cordoned off. After years of work, two celebrations in two months meant it was a great time to be doing the work.
It had started with discoveries of several weapons, firearms as some ancient texts they had found called them. The weapons were fascinating, but also completely useless. At least, useless until Reggie had started looking them over. Reggie had set up a target, laid the gun on a table, put a little metal ball inside, and summoned a wizard. “Can you direct a force that pushes the ball through the opening?” The wizard nodded and after a few tries managed to send the ball flying out of the gun and into the target.
“So we have to have a wizard every time we want to use this?” one of the others had asked.
“No, we have to find a way to generate that force?” Reggie, who had trained with the Guild of Alchemist’s for a time before leaving, smiled. “The Alchemists cause explosions all the time, we just need one we can concentrate and create on command.”
They had dismissed the wizard then, and set to work on creating a substance that could fire the gun. Reggie was in charge, but they brought in licensed Guild Alchemists to make sure everything was official. Last month they had finally discovered gunpowder, which should meet all the criteria they needed to use the weapon. And just hours ago they had made several successful tests shots with the guns. It was time to celebrate indeed.
It was late afternoon, and Risbeth was relaxing on a table with a cushioned top. She was naked from head to toe, and making some sounds of pleasure. "MMmm, Igorina, I swear your hands should be classified as a deadly weapon by the Watch."
Igorina smiles. "Thank you Mithrtreth, The Lady was a thkilled thurgeon, and mathage ith really jutht knowing where the muthtles are and how to make them whimper and give up."
"Unnhhh... that's it, that back muscle bothered me before I died, and it's never stopped. Stupid vampires, they could have at least fixed that before they killed me..." She grumbles, but then sighs as Igorina forces the muscle to stop spasming. "Oh, I thought I heard a scream and thud last night, about 2AM, what was that about?"
"Oh, nothing theriouth Mithtreth, a very young and not very bright thief tried to climb in through the 3rd thtory window." Igorina says, twisitng Risbeth's neck until it sounds like celery breaking.
"AAAAhhhh.... mmm, much better. Did you dispose of the body?" She asks, idly curious. "And send the cleaning bill to the guild, we shouldn't be having burglaries. Or I'll tell Madam Palm about them."
"He ruptured hith thpleen in the fall, Mithtreth, but I had a perfectly thervithable one I wath keeping for a thpethial occasion. It wath dwarf. I put it in him, and called the guild to come get him." She explains, doing one final check of Risbeth's back muscles. "And yeth, I thent them the bill altho. Now, do you want to wear the red dreth tonight, or the brown leather outfit? Don't forget, we have the party at the Guild tonight."
"You spoil me Igorina." Risbeth sighs contentedly. "The brown leather, the red dress is for VIP clients. You wear that nice red jacket and vest, you look good in that."
The sound of more joints being forcibly popped into place precedes Igorina's "Yeth Mithtress..."
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Later, at the party (after the sun goes down, at a decent hour).
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Risbeth is in a brown leather outfit that is designed to show off her body, and especially her cleavage. On one hip is a large heavy silver and ivory double barreled pistol, and on the other hip a morning star adorned with spikes that look like sets of vampire teeth poking out in all directions. She bears a red ribbon around her neck, with two little smiley face hearts hanging down to nestle above her cleavage.
She walks amongst the party goers, her fangs flashing in easy laughs at even the hoariest of jokes, and she can often be seen handing drinks out to people, gathered fresh from the trays at the bar*.
As people pass by the buffet table, they can notice an unusual arrangement. A number of napkins have been folded in a strange manner highly ressembling a small couch. In front of the couch stands a coaster mounted on three tootpick boxes. This makeshift table is itself almost completely hidden by a cocktail sausage which is missing 1/4 '' of it's tip. Laying sideways on on the couch sits the sausage eater, Trops. The 9'' tall man wears his usual round brown hat, a white shirt, brown vest, brown pants and tiny shoes which would make most women speak gibberish for half an hour.
Trops greets visitors coming to get small snacks by lifting a thimble filled with freshly made drinks and commenting on the food. His greetings, painfully high pitch cries are akin to the an untuned flute. Thus, the wee man is mostly left alone and facing the challenge of eating a complete cocktail sausage by himself.
"I would thuggeth you not eat that, Thir." Igorina says to Trops as she places a small snack plate next to Trops' couch, on it are a chunk of ham and some mixed vegetables. "I wath told that the thauthageth were procured from Mithter Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibler." She admonishes the small man. "I would thuggeth the ham and vegetableth inthead. The ham came from a pig, and the vegetableth from a farm. The thauthage I cannot identify the thourthe of."*
----------------------
Later
----------------------
"Oh, hello poppin, how are you?" Risbeth asks, leaning over to kiss Trops on the top of his head. "I was wondering where you were, I saw the cat earlier, and I was afraid she'd gotten hungry and snacked on you. I should have known you'd be at the food table, I swear I don't know how you manage to eat your own body weight every day and not end up shaped like a canteloupe." Risbeth dimples. "Have you considered what I said when I advised you to get a bat to ride instead of the pigeon? The bat has ever so many advantages over the pigeon, she can see in the dark, she's a much better conversationalist, and her droppings can be used to make gunpowder. The pigeon is just messy, flighty, and blind at night."
No researcher had yet been able to identify the source of the contents of CMOT Dibler's sausages.
"Aye, but at least pigeons aren't blood suckers." Raul leans against the corner, one hand playing with his goatee. His comment has no subtlety about his distaste for Risbeth. He scratches his stubble with a long, thick fingernail as he glances over the guests, as if he's expecting any one of them to draw a weapon. All in all, he's being kind of a buzz-kill. His eyes fall to Trops and stops, the hint of a smile coming to his face. "You do well with your napkin art Trops, it makes me wonder what your home looks like."
Trops looks from his plate to Igorina and repeats the process around 10 times, each faster than the pervious. The wee man's face abruptly fills with disgust as he realizes that Igorina is right.
In a high pitch broken voice he yells"Regggggiiiieee!!!! Are you trying to poison me?! I can'tbelieve you bought CmoT Dibbler's sausages..."
The sentence ends in a barely audible shrill as the gnome lost his voice over all the yelling.
He walks over the sausages takes a coaster and with ketchup write on them: CmoT sausages, eat at your own risks. Trops puts the sign next to the deadly food.
----------
Later
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After receiving the kiss from Risbeth, Tropss takes out an hankerchief and cleans his lipstick covered forehead.
With a recovered voice (unfortunately for everyone's ears):"Hiieee! Don't worry lady vampire, the cat runs away from me ever since he tried to mess with me! Yeah!"
As Risbeth mentions changing companion:"You don't get it! Gordo is a friend, not some random animal I rideeee! I couldn't let the poor birdie go alone in the city. What about you, still against the idea of taking blood from people helped into the long sleep by the people at the assassin's guild? I tell you, good assassin's don't scare people and don't use poison, the blood is perfect! If you prefer animal blood, just hire me after this 'firearm' job is done and I will gently put to sleep all the pigeons and rats that bother you and get their blood!"
Trops takes a look at the cocktail sausages.
"Yeeahhhh, I tell you, pigeon and rat blood is cleaner than human one, they don't eat that junk!"
Risbeth giggles at the small gnome. "There's not enough blood in them to really give me a full meal sweetie. And yes, I still avoid anyone killed by the Assassin's Guild. If for no other reason than they don't advertise where they are going to be doing their trade." She winks at the gnome. "It's not as if they hang red lanterns outside the doors they'll be performing their services after all." She smiles down at the gnome. She opens her mouth to extoll the virtues of bats again, when Raul interrupts.
Risbeth looks to Raul, and beams a fanged smile at him. "My my my, you are so dour, Raul! There are bats that are herbivores, they eat fruit. And there are bats that are insectivores, they eat insects. Not every bat drinks blood." She tells the werewolf, moving closer and smiling brightly. Then her tone takes on one lecturing. "Also, you should note that vampire bats do not suck blood. They have large incisors that create a wound on the victim, and then the bats lap at the blood as it wells out. Their saliva has a mild anesthetic in it, so the victim doesn't feel the bite. So calling them blood suckers is quite a bit incorrect, it's more accurate to say that they are blood lickers." She smiles seductively. "I've been known to do some licking myself, although I do try to avoid licking up blood." She taps the red ribbon on her neck, and winks at the dour werewolf.
Her attention is distracted for a second. "OH! Madame Palm! It's so nice to see you! You look simply ravishing! Doesn't she Raul sweetie? That purple leather just so matches her eyes, doesn't it?" She reaches out to drag the dour Raul over to meet the head of the Seamstress's guild, unless he makes a scene by not allowing her to grab his cuff.
Raul grumbles but lets Risbeth drag him away from his corner. "Umm, yes I suppose it does." He looks infinitely uncomfortable talking with people he doesn't work with.
Risbeth drags Raul over to the head of the Seamstress's Guild, a beaming smile on her face. "Oooh, Mrs. Palm, it's been too long! What has it been? Two weeks? Oh way too long! I miss working in Cozie's Cozy Crochette Condo sometimes, and you with your weekly visits." She enthuses, letting nobody get a word in edgewise. "This is Raul Ulric, he's a werewolf, and he hates vampires. He hates most everything it seems, but I think it's because he's not getting any female companionship. Or male, I'm not sure which way he goes, it could be both." She prattles on, waving her hands about animatedly as she talks. "Is Sandy still working at The Hair of the Dog Needlepoint Emporium? I think she'd be perfect for Raul, assuming he likes females. Could you arrange for her to give him the angry at the world werewolf discount? Oh, and Ronnie at The Blue Cat if he prefers the other half of the gender spectrum? Ronnie's so sweet, he'd make Raul smile in no time!" Then her head snaps sideways. "OH! It's Carrot and Angua! Excuse me Mrs. Palm, Raul, I just have to go say hi!"
And off she goes, giving Carrot a hug, and getting a growl from Angua that is cut off as she hugs the blonde as well, probably from shock given nobody touches Angua. "OH! Aren't you both just the cutest couple! Carrot, you cad, when are you going to make an honest woman of her?! Did I see you shopping in Jasper Dowd's Jewelry the other day??? That was you in the cowl wasn't it? Admit it, it was!" And off she goes, embarassing Carrot in an attempt to see if she can make him bleed from his pores as blood rushes to his face.
If looks could kill, Risbeth would be a pile of ash on the floor. As it was she melts away into the crowd, leaving Raul to clean things up. "I believe Risbeth has a few misconceptions about me, and the rest she exaggerates. So...umm...you're the head of the Seamstress's Guild? Impressive. How is...that going?" He slows down and gets quiet as a continually growing number of people stare at him. Oh I'll make her pay for this one.
Raul becomes a bit more at ease with Mrs.Palm "Yes, I was, although I was mostly concerned with making sure the entire assembly didn't explode. You know how our alchemists are, I spent a few weeks making sure this new substance exploded exactly as much as wanted and that the material around it could withstand the force. There are some interesting outcomes if the wrong amount is used."
Raul inclines his head and watches her leave. He tries to pick out the noises of the crowd but begins feeling a little shut in by all the people, all the smells, all the movement...he shuts his eyes to clear his head then abruptly leaves and goes outside to get some fresh air. He breathes in the outside scents, glancing around then checking the phase of the moon.
"Oh, do ethcuthe me, Lady Angua..." Igorina apologizes as she bumps into the watch were. "I am not uthe to tho many people about." She smiles at Angua, showing off her new faux vampiric fangs. "Oh, let me give you my card, I am now employed at Lady Von'Hogmedeths medical practith." She slips a pair of cards into Angua's hand. The first is a business card, the second a small note from Risbeth with the address of a perfume maker, the small note reads My goodness, why ever aren't you making an honest man of that boy before someone with worse motives than making him blush latches onto him? Lady Filgre is very adept at making perfumes with wolf noses in mind, just enough for humans to smell without overloading wolf noses. Now hurry up and bag him before someone with less scruples than I notices how cute he is when his face is red.
Igorina turns to Carrot. "My apologieth Mathter Ironfounderthththth... Mathter Ironfounderthththth... Captain Carrot. I mithtook Thtan for you, and gave my Mithtreth the wrong information. Will you pleath forgive me?"
--------------------
Elsewhere at the party
--------------------
Risbeth flutters around the party, mostly playing the vapid gossip, happily embarassing people where she can*. All the while she seems to be enraptured with her own nonsensical talk, she's listening to the more hushed conversations around her using her improved vampiric hearing. She's found that people like to use loud boarish people to cover their really tasty secret public conversations. So why not provide the boarish cover so she can be in range to listen to them on the sly.
In the "oh look, you're blushing, how cute" way, and not in the "have you stopped sleeping with Lord Vetinari's favorite Mistress?" get you turned into a corpse way.
I suppose you could say that the beginning of this story was at the party...
The light from the chandeliers bounces off of the diamond troll, shifting angles of luminescence like a jagged aurora.
Except for the trolls hands, which seem to be covered in a distressingly thick layer of grease.
the troll says, stuffing another sausage into it's maw.
"You know, I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be eating that. I don't think trolls are supposed to eat people food," a seemingly bodiless voice replied. "Then again... I wouldn't exactly call that people food, so I guess it's alright? I'm not sure how that works actually..."
the troll replied, holding it's hands out curiously and examining the grease with intense scrutiny.
------------
Later
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Still scrutinizing.
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Much later
------------
the troll yells excitedly.
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Much, much later
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the troll asks to no one, confused for a moment. He gropes around on the table and picks up the first thing he grabs. In this case, some sort of small humanoid, and he begins trying to buff off his hands. Rather unsuccessfully.
"Just a thought, but it might not be wise to use a Wee Free Man as a polishing rag..." the voice pipes up.
the troll grunts, peering at the being more closely.
the troll apologizes.
In a voice so high that Tanz vibrates a bit: "aaargh, see what you have done? Don't answer, it would just take too long.
The wee man try's to get CmoT Dibbler's sausage grease off of him, only proving that it is the best lubricant ever.
Bow down and let me climb on you."
Once Trops is on the Troll's head, slipping quite a few times due to his own greasiness.
"Noooowww, follow the direction of my finger"
The gnome points in the direction of the bathroom, definitely planning on helping Tanz's get his hands clean and getting rid of all the sausage grease.
Risbeth notices Tanz and Trops, and sidles up next to the troll as they get to the bathroom. "What a mess, you two... I swear I can't take you anywhere." She says with a smile. Pulling out a flask, she pours a couple of drops of liquid ice on Tanz's head, careful not to hit Trops with it, to cool off the troll's brain. Then she passes an alchemical acid flask to the troll. "One part acid, 20 parts water, in the ceramic sink, not the copper one. Use that to wash your hands, and the grease will come off." She tells Tanz, then points a finger at Trops. "You are not to use that, it'll burn your skin. You get to take a long bath in the copper sink, with soap, and scrub head to toe for 30 minutes, that might get it off."
And then she's off again, bubbling over with gossip and natterings, while listening to other people's hushed conversations.
"Oh, Reginald sweetie... so good to see you." Risbeth gives him a peck on the cheek and a small hug. "Whatever were you thinking letting Dibbler talk you into buying his sausages? Poor Trops and Tanz are having a devils time in the bathroom cleaning the grease off. Is it true they use that grease to lubricate wagon axles?" She asks, brushing some flecks of dust off his coat. "Oh, excuse me Reginald sweetie, I see my Igorina trying to figure out what Nobby Nobs is, and you know how Igorina's are, she might try to take him apart to see what he is inside." She hurries off. "Igorina dear! No no no, it's not a mutation, it's a Nobs!"
In the bathroom, Trops explains to the troll how to remove the grease, repeating himself in really simple terms when necessary (so, defining almost everywords). Once the immense diamond is clean, the gnome sends him out.
-----
Later
-----
Loud high pitch curses can be heard from the bathroom.
----------
Much later
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The curses have steadily been less loud until they died in a gurgle followed by the sound breaking glass.
The door to the bathroom opens a bit, as if someone was peaking through, although no one can be seen. The sound of tiny slipping footprints can be heard making their way to the door. A few people walking by can be seen slipping and falling down to the ground, having apparently walked on a trail of grease.
----------------------------
An hour later, outside
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A tug can be felt on the man's cloths. A sneaky little gnome is climbing on them.
The man can hear a whisper in his hears: "Oh, what a beautifull night. But why I am here outside of the crowd instead of talking with the wooonnnnderfulll Trops?"
The last words betray the speaker as they are yelled and quite high pitched.
The gnome is sitting on his shoulder.
Raul doesn't react upon hearing the voice, but with the gnome being so close he can feel Raul's heart rate increase exponentially, then slow down again as he recognizes Trops. "Now my conscience has taken an avid interest in my social life where before it only asked me about who I killed. On top of that, it seems to have a predisposition towards that little gnome as well." He chuckles. "Oh you know how it is. Too much noise, too much movement, too many smells. I don't know how Risbeth even stays on her feet with how much she moves in there." He runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the moon for what must be the tenth time. "I'm going to have to go out and hunt soon. I ignored the last full moon and have felt sick ever since."
Igorina comes out of the door, looking somewhat disappointed. "I am thure that ith not a human male.. nor a human female. I with Mithtreth would let me ditthect it. I'm thure I could prove it wath not human." She mutters. "I do not care if Offither Nobbth hath a note from Lord Vetinari thaying he ith human. I could write a paper thaying that I am a cumquat, it would not make me a cumquat!"
Igorina blinks then, as she notices Raul and Trops. She bows at the waist, her long hair hanging low, but not quite to the ground. "My apologieth, Mithter Raul, Mithter Tropth. I hope you are haffing a good evening?"
"Are you feeling well, Mithter Raul?" She looks at Trops. "You haff not fed Mithter Raul any of thothe thauthageth have you?" She asks admonishingly, sniffing the air.
Raul glares at her. "I was doing better.
Igorina raises an eyebrow. "Well, Excuthe Me, Mithter Raul." She then turns around and re-enters the party, mumbling with a lisp about dipilatories and salt peter.
Raul has an apology half out of his mouth when she already leaves. Bloody nine, at least act like you like her. No sense in pissing her off.
"Don't worry goatie man, she will be fine! So, what do you hunt exactly?"
Say's Raul 9" tall conscience.
Raul shrugs. "Game in the area. I like a good rabbit but it takes a few to really fill you up. Plus they like to hide in brambles so I spend a few hours picking those out of my fur afterwards." His thoughts turn to a drink. "So what is it you do when you're not working on new explosive discoveries?"
The entire building shook, and the floor opened up beneath us, as if the earth were craving sustenance after so many long years without.
the troll wailed, flailing his fists and generally causing a scene.
”Aherm, a-yes master, I do not believe so, if you would kindly... please hold... still..." Igor sputtered, finally managing to grab hold of a swinging fist. It did not seem to impede the swing though, and he was soon whistling through the air, holding on with an air of resigned determination. Eventually the troll calmed down enough that Igor was once again reunited with stable footing, and he proceeded to buff the trolls arm.
”Aherm, a-yes master, see? Good as new," Igor said, bowing. His spine crackled unpleasantly as he straightened back up.
The troll inspected the spot closely before nodding in satisfaction.
he grinned, patting the Igor on the head. The Igor winced slightly.
he mused, rubbing his chin with an irritating grinding sound of stone on stone.
Raul checks everyone over for injuries. "I doubt this was an accident, I double checked the containers myself." He looks at the door, supposedly the only way out. "Better that than just sit here."
Igorina, having recovered from the fall with alacrity, watches the troll swing about. She then bends down to help Risbeth stand up, but mostly just pockets a couple of thumbnail sized diamond chips. She smiles at Risbeth and pats her pocket.
Risbeth for her part, stands up, and looks around. "Well now, the party certainly ended with a bang." "Well it appears no one has been seriously hurt." Igorina, in the process of pulling out some jars and a surgeon's kit droops, and puts them away. "Raul sweetie, I do hope you can hold on to your temper while we're all down here, it would be a shame if you went rabid and we had to put you down." She eyes the grouchy werewolf with rather more ascerbity than she usually displays. "I really do rather like you, even if you are an unimitigated ass most of the time, but if you decide to take the time to try to kill someone down here because you're out of sight of the watch, I'm afraid I really will have to do something I don't like, and rather permanent. So please be on your good behaviour." Igorina surrupticiously moves away from Risbeth, to be on the other side of Raul, who's acted rather shabbily all night.
Looking to the others, she brightens. "Trops? Are you down here? And are you ok? Trans, Igor, are you both ok?"
A pile of ruble begins to shake as it slowly opens up to reveal the diminutive man, all dressed in black but covered with dust. As he stretches, the others can see that he is holding a few strands of string in one hand.
He looks at the strings, shrugs and gives Raul an apologetic look:
"Sorry goatie man, it seems your hair wasn't able to hold me on to you when we fell."
He throws away the strands of hair he was holding.
"No worriessss lady vampire, I am all okay.... Stooop! looking at me Igorina, all my bits are still attached." He says in a shrill voice.
As he stops speaking, he tries to climb on onto the Igor woman.
"Anyone knows where we ARE?"
"Please, you mistake me for an animal. I have completely mastered my instincts."
Igorina picks Trops off her pants leg, and places him on her shoulder, where he can hold onto her tresses. "Careful little one, when you climb a Lady, you thould athk firtht." She admonishes him, a fang gleaming at the corner of a crooked smile.
Risbeth gives Raul a look that says she is reserving judgement after his attitude at the party. Then she looks around. "This far underground, there should be some cave bats, and if not, some rats." She begins speaking in a high-pitched squeak that should leave even Trops wincing.
"Flap and flutter! I'm all Atutter! Any Friends Come to Me? Up close enough to See?" She calls out in a squeaky bat call.
"Thank you Igorina! You're just so nice, I knew you would agree! But now that Gordo is here, I shall go on him."
Waving at Igorina, the gnome jumps unto the passing Gordo.
Trops falls down to the ground after jumping on Gordo, hitting the bird but missing the saddle. Luckily, he falls on his feet.
With a whistle, the gnome calls the turkey sized pigeon and mounts it. As he does so, he eyes everyone, making sure none will be tempted to joke about his missed mounting.
"Yaa!" Loudly squeaks the gnome as he spurs his mount who goes and perches itself on it's favorite spot: Tanz's head.
"So, what did you say to the rats and bats?" He nicely yells at Risbeth.
"Oh, nothing special, I just told them I had food for them." She pointedly looks at Raul, making Igorina snicker*.
"Ahhh, ok!" He says, looking suspicious.
"I would open the door, but people make them too big. Would anyone bother doing it?"
Raul opens the door.
Raul squints his eyes then attempts to get some magical light in the room. He makes the gestures twice, failing to manifest the energy, then finally on this third try gets some light in the room.
Raul glances around, then flares his nostrils to pick up any scents.
"Trops? Are you down here? And are you ok? Trans, Igor, are you both ok?"
Tanz glares upward as best he can at his new passenger.
he mumbles grumpily. Igor readies his favorite cleaning rag, ever vigilant for stains.
Tanz is distracted from his grumbling when he sees Raul casting a spell. His stubby fingers twitch and jagged lips silently mouth along, all the while a massive grin is sprawled across his angular features. Finally the spell catches and the area brightens. The group sets out, following the road.
"Coeeeyyy! Don't worry big diamond, the ceiling seems high enough to let me fly."
As Trops finished his sentence, Gordo and him fly off into circles above the group. Doing so, Trops observes the surroundings.
"Lady vampire, I think you did attrack rats... that might want to eat goatie man! I hear lots of paws coming from the side streets!"
Risbeth winces at the light. "Oh for heaven's sake, let's just light a beacon and tell everyone we're here." She mutters under her breath, and then leaves the party enough to fade into the darkness. She keeps to the shadows, near walls and outside the pool of light, not wanting to be backlit. Her eyes see just fine in the dark, and the use of the light strikes her as a way to say 'Come eat me'*. She draws her pistol, knowing if she can see it, she can shoot it.
Igorina however, has no such special senses, and stays near the light, although she walks behind Raul, and in front of Tanz, letting them be the first ones attacked. She draws her short sword, in case there's something dangerous down here.
Once Trops calls out about the rats, she again talks in rat speech.
Raul shrugs. "It may draw danger like flies but at least we can see it coming. We all don't have your eyes."
Igorina puts a card in Raul's beard. "Here you are, Thir. Thtop by when we get above ground. I haff a very thervithable pair of dwarf eyeth I can give you, and you will haff the thame thort of vithion ath Mithtreth Rithbeth."