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.
Dot.
Benris circulated through the party, chatting up anyone and everyone who would listen.
"Hey, nice to see you. Love your hair, by the way. Have you heard about the work we've been doing? Brilliant stuff if I do say so myself. The name's Benris Carr; tell your friends!"
Fionna was far more social than your average dwarf, that was for certain. She loved a good chat, could babble on for hours about her latest hobby, chat your ear right off if you got her started on the right subjects really. And she was certainly in her element, what with all these craftsmen and guildsfolk and tinkers and such like around. She considered herself a bit on the lucky side for so quickly and easily falling into a group of like-minded folk who knew the value of someone's ability to work with their hands. Good, old fashioned hard work, skill, and ingenuity. Yeah most of them were humans, and there was the occasional troll who'd somehow gotten off his leash, but hey, life couldn't be perfect, and it wasn't exactly bad. She had no major complaints.
All that said, however, she wasn't interacting much with the crowd at the moment. There were two major reasons for that.
One was because wherever Fionna walked, unless she was surrounded by concrete blocks or iron walls, chaos followed. She'd stumble and knock over a table or trip and pull a door off its hinges. ("Humans, why'd y'ave to make everythin' so bloody fragile?!") And in a party like this, surrounded by meandering humans, tables full of food, and other fancy hob-nobs, it was a catastrophe waiting to happen if the first thing went wrong. So she'd been sent to sit off in a corner during the setup to wait out the festivities, in hopes that she wouldn't accidentally ruin the party with a poorly-placed round of dwarfish bowling.
Secondly was because knowing she'd been exiled to out-of-the-way-landia, she'd made sure to bring along something to occupy her time. So while the people milled about, wizards and alchemists bantered and debated, the scent of food and drink wafting through the air, and all general noise and glitz of the celebration, Fionna was beard-deep in a pile of what to the untrained eye looked like scrap metal, tiny wheels, and mismatched shards of glass, with a pair of sharp tweezers or tongs in one pudgy hand and a complex utility tool in the other.
She was clumsy-looking to say the least. Like most female dwarves there was nothing about her gender that particularly stood out at first glance. She was heavyset even for a dwarf, rotund and a bit on the shorter side of average, but more stocky and compact rather than simply fat. A little ball of muscle and ticking brains, she was, draped in a long sheet of ruddy blonde hair on top and in the back and an equally long beard of the same in the front. The notable difference from the average dwarf was the intricate and decidedly feminine braids adoring said beard, tipped with baby-blue bows and hair claps of quartz and iron fastened into artistic little cave beetles with glittering wings.
Sequestered away in her corner, she poked and prodded at her latest project, her gaze only rising from her work to glance over at her coworkers not too far away, puttering away with Reggie on The Big Project.
Why do they have to drag me out to these things, I look ridiculous. Oh Monolith, I am even starting to think like them. If I don't get my hands on a wukwuk soon I am going to crunch someone. Get a grip on yourself girl... there are watchmen here. Ooh and some mighty cute watchmen at that, look at those trolls over there... no that ones married to Ruby I think. Lucky girl with the singing and the sergeant and all that. Wish I could sing, then I wouldn't of had to put on sheets at the club. I really could use a wukwuk right now. What am I doing here again. All the while that Gypsumay's mind has been racing she has kept herself in a corner. If it wasn't for the flexing of her fingers, as she bunched up her fists every now and then in frustration, no one would be able to tell she was anything more than a garish and rather tasteless piece of neo-tribal back to the caves art.
Though she is definitely out of her element and uncomfortable, not a good combination to have in a troll, she is trying hard to make nice and not flatten any of the guests. The fact that she is carrying a wide assortment of her newly minted guns, not to mention kegs of powder and bags of munition, is a little frightening to most of those in attendance that have managed to realize the danger of such things... so not many at all really. Her gaze fixes from one person to the next, flicking this way and that as if she is looking for someone.
"Rosie, how delightful to see you! I must say, I didn't realize you were interested in such pursuits. Perhaps you'd like to see my hardware? I've spent many long, lonely nights working toward its completion."
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Captain Carrot approaches Fionna in her corner. "Miss Handoverhammer, are you doing well? How goes the work at the mine?"
Fionna looks up from her work, a few stray pieces scattering from her arms as she moves, bouncing haphazardly away and teetering on the edge of her table precariously, waiting for gravity to go on ahead and either get it over with or just give up. She didn't quite notice at the moment, since this was the first time she'd actually managed to meet Captain Ironfoundersson when there was nobody else around already talking.
Of course, she'd heard about him the first day she was in the city, making the rounds and meeting the dwarves already at home in Ankh-Morpork, and in getting shown around the city she'd eventually run into him and some of the other members of the Watch and been introduced. It took her a little bit to grasp hold of the bit about him being a human and a dwarf, it's complicated, and so on and so forth, but once she had the basics down it wasn't too hard to follow along from there. Besides, he certainly knew how things worked, as far as dwarves went, and he was a genuinely friendly sort - something Fionna could appreciate, since most of her fellow dwarves were a bit on the dour side once you got them up into the light.
"Oh hullo Cap'n. I'm doing quite fine, thank ya for askin'. Just tryin' to get this last little segment to hitch in here and all. Oh I imagine it's gone well, I haven't heard any complaints from the low or the high where's I pass 'em, though I haven't been spendin' as much time in the mine as I used to, on account of bein' busy with the work here, y'see.
How're about yourself? How goes the long arms'n'legs o' the law?"
The silence comes over the party as Lord Vetinari enters. The silence is quickly broken by whispers. "Vetinari is here, the real party is about to start."
The whispers stopped as soon as the bang happened. Those who arrived first found Reggie alone in the project rooms. He was dead; a large hole over his heart that was pouring out blood. The other project workers arrived, saw the body, and hurried to the gun that was pointing at Reggie’s body. It was the same gun in the same stand they has used just hours before in their successful tests.
The second bang happened then, a much larger explosion. It presumably originated in the carefully kept containers of gun powder in the basement. It sent many of the guests scrambling out of the building but it sent the project workers into the hole that had opened in the floor. It sent them through the basement floor too, into the under city of Ankh-Morpork.
When the project workers recovered they found themselves in the darkness of the under city without a feasible way up. A light rod revealed that there was a door so they shrugged, picked up the scattered supplies and equipment around them, and headed through the door.
"I told people not to be smoking or lighting candles near da goohulug powder. Did is what happens when you let rich city humans and horug loose around this coprolite. I told you we shoulda done demonstration in a field." Gypsumay starts checking to make sure her new babies were not harmed in the fall, seeing a scratch on her double hackbut she flies into a rage. "Dey scratched Aoograha Hoa. Dis day can't get any worse." The buxom troll begins to stomp her foot in anger, someone was going to pay through the nose for this. If Chrysoprase was behind this I am going to reach my fist through his nose and pull teeth till there ain't no teeth left to pull.
A young looking man in an exquisite suit, would gingerly stand from the rather crude position he had been deposited in by the fall. Once again having his feet planted firmly beneath him, Rupert would take his time in dusting himself off. In doing so, he would confirm his pistol was still at his side and that the vials in his belt were still in tact. Finally, with a sigh of relief, Rupert would go about gathering his top hat and briefcase from where they lay just a short distance away.
"It seems Ankh-Morpork is showing us her good side tonight," he would say in a state-of-fact tone as he adjusts the glasses that rest upon his nose.
"Alright, clear the way!" Benris shouts as he pushes his way through the crowd. "This is a potential crime scene, so everyone back away! And nobody better leave either! We're going to need statements from everybody, and probably search your personal effects. This building is sealed off!"
Benris waves his gun around, pointing it at the crowd to emphasize his points, and the crowd lurches aside to stay out of the line of fire.
Benris dusts himself off and coughs up the dirt he breathed out on the way down. "Well, I guess we'd better get back up top and see what happened. I'm sure Captain Ironfoundersson would appreciate some help in making sense of the scene."
Gypsmay is very much not amused and seems ready to kick the door in without waiting for the others.
Rupert's eyes would turn to regard the troll. "I am in no way a lawyer Miss Gypsumay and why is it that I feel I must constantly remind you of such?" he would ask in his matter of fact tone. "I am an esteemed member of the Copywriters Guild and if you must refer to me in a fashion that is not my name, then pencil pusher would be a preferable term."
"Lawyer, pencil pusher, bigmouth, all the same. Fancy suits and fancy words getting rich on other people, But let me rephrase. Oh great, we have the cop and the pencil pusher. Anyone else still alive in this Monolith forsaken groophar quarry pit of situation we are in? The rephrase is said in the best approximation of sarcasm a troll can manage... which is not very much at all.
travels amongs the celebratory members, sniffing at everything, smells seemingly distracting him at every step
Time to pppaaadwy he bleets as he makes his way to the punch bowl, small flask in hand/fin faint webbing can be seen through the tufts of fur covering his wrists and extending out into his hand... he pauses not finding the punch bowl...
Execuse mem... where on earth is the punch? I thought this party was just getting started with all the cacophny of sound and lights! But there's no punch!
Jonathon pulls himself to his feet with the aid of some nearby rubble, allows his eyes to adjust, and takes stock of the others. Content that no one is injured he moves to the doorway.
Follow me and we will find our way out. Darkness is as light to me. It is best that we do not burn a candle lest we give away our position. Also, perhaps Fiona should ride on Gypsumay’s back? Might reduce inadvertent noise?
When I get out of here I will harness the destructive force of this new weapon and use it to storm Unseen Academy’s library, kill the damned monkey guardian, and blast the Octavo free from its prison. Then will I have fulfilled my Master’s promise and I shall know the Truth of the void!!!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!
Jonathon watches the others without expression.
Gypsumay gets a look on her face like you just killed her duck. She shudders at the thought.
"Is there a reason you expect us to be waylayed down here? I say we get out quickly rather than quietly. Now, who has a light? I can't see a thing."
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Jonathon says nonchalantly to Benris,
Waylayed? Perhaps. Reggie was shot, probably not accidentally, and those cases of gunpowder were carefully kept. Though I agree with Gypsumay that a field might have been a better location to store it. Furthermore, do we really want to walk around in an underground gunpowder warehouse with candles alight?
Jonathon then moves closer to the troll, and begins whispering to Gypsumay so that only she can hear.
I apologize for offending you Gypsumay. I know well that trolls are an honorable race, giants in nobility as well as stature. And a dwarf would never carry a troll. They are too mean and stingy, among other things, to do so. Who then could expect a troll to perform such an unexpectedly decent and honorable act for such a lowly creature.
Jonathon then raises his voice so everyone can hear while still talking to Gypsumay.
You're right, we would probably be better off with Fionna stumb... I mean walking on her own two feet. But in that case, I suggest you lead the way, Gypsumay, because anyone still here is going to hear us coming and I don't take projectiles very well.
Phrenice creates light centered on his antlers
that's better! taking in the view Well this certainly isn't the place for a party, how do we get back to the ball? And why does it smell so baawd? he bleats anxiously
My name is Phrenic, I'm a very important guest and if this is some elaborate prank, well... you'll not make a doupe of meeeeee!
Jonathon gestures to the door.
Lead the way.
"Oi, I 'eard that," Fionna grumbles as she shoves her way out from beneath a pile of rubble while shaking a finger erratically in a vague aim that is what someone might generously call 'in Jonathon's direction'. However, the dwarf is a bit too distracted to really put a whole lot of oomph into the reaction; in the tumble and crumble of the past five minutes or so, almost all of her work of the evening has been lost amidst the falling rock and wood and people of disparate racial quality. Sure, she still has the pouch of spare parts and scrap metal where all of it came from, but the actual products she had been working on when the explosions went off are lost, parts and all. It's put her in a despondent mood with the potential to sour like a runaway cheese.
She picks a few loose gears out of her beard and hastily stuffs them back away in her pouch, then scrubs the rest of the rubble out of her hair and pats herself down, checking to make sure everything's still in place. Beard, check. Boots, check. Armor, check, and all pieces thereof. Gun, check. Hammer, no ch.... no, there it is, sticking out of that pile of shattered cinder blocks. Check.
"I kin walk perfectly fine on me own, thank ya very much," she continues as she hauls the maul out of its pile of debris - one it probably caused on its way down. "An' if there is to be a tumble down 'ere, I'mma want my feet on nice solid ground rather'n ground that be walkin' on its own, y'see. An' fur...."
She stops short on hearing/seeing the faun, and blinks a little. She hadn't seen him at the party (though granted, she hadn't really been paying all that much attention to the guests, either...) and, well to be quite frank she wasn't really sure what he was. He was babbling on like... well, like a Very Important Guest, which he said he was. She sighed and brushed some more dust off the hammer and just shook her head at the whole ordeal. "Loverly," she thought bitterly. "Gonna have to escort a noble fopper what probably can't lift his own weight outta here without lettin' him stub his toes... no, that's hooves on some stray rock. And he's a Wizard ta boot. This is gonna be juuuuuuust dandy."
"Fine, whatever. Somebody pick a direction already." The dwarf gave a defeated sigh, shouldered her hammer, and followed where the rest of the group led. "Since I'mma be Such A Burden On Our Haste, I'll go 'head 'n take rear guard. Just In Case."
"Somethin' just ahead," Fionna calls out, casually pointing toward the source of the noise. "Lil' walkin's, I think." Considering she's still at the back of the group, there's not much further she can do to approach the noise... well unless she wanted to run straight through the group. Which she could do. But they probably wouldn't appreciate it much, and the troll and the bald fellow were sour enough already and Lord Fancyhooves would probably take it personal-like.
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"I hear it too. Be alert."
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If you here the party music let me know, I'm sure they'll be missing me! Say... it's really really dark, this joke is getting tired... his tail limply hangs down I hope the good dwarf knows a way out! I hear they know their way around well in places like this!
Trusting to her companions ears, Gypsumay pulls around her blunderbuss and readies the shot with practiced ease."Y'all should stand back, just saying. Gypsumay then reaches for a cig before she realizes once again she is out. Silicarous, I could really use a wukwuk right now.
Jonathon moves aside. I hear nothing. Who would be down here at this time?
Benris takes aim at a rat, for maximum damage.
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Jon knows a foe when he sees one. As he prepares his quarterstaff for a deadly blow a grin appears on his face and he then begins to giggle uncontrollably.
Heeheeheeheeheee
He swings his quarterstaff overhead and brings it speeding down toward the head of the offending rodent.
In a fluid movement, Rupert would pull one leg after the other from the assailing rodent. As he dances away, he would slip his free hand beneath his coat jacket and pull forth his pistol. Leveling it with calculating precision at the attacking rat, he would pull the trigger in hopes of dropping it dead in its tracks.
With a loud boom emanating from it's barrel, a bullet would be sent speeding towards the rodent...
...while his emotionless face watches on. Seemingly uncaring of the results.
Spending a Grit point to use the butt as a weapon.
Gypsumay stares at the rats as they swarm the group, not believing her eyes."Being attacked by stupid rodents. Aye you, I aint edible ya dummy." She moves to smash the little bugger with the butt of her gun.
Yeow!!!! steps back and casts bless Be bold dear friends, these creatures have hurt my beautiful feet! They are baaaad and need killed!
Provided a clear path, Fionna makes her way through the rubble and debris beneath the doorway and within reach of the remaining rat. Humming a little mining tune under her breath, she lifts the weighty weapon - still trailing cinderblock dust in its path - and brings it down over her head and toward the wriggling vermin.
Benris fires at another rat, not quite so worried this time.
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Jon punches a rat in the snout.