MTG: Discworld

 

Another sonic boom destroyed the few surviving windows.

“Mr.Stibbons!” Ridcully shouted. “You assured me that if we built an infinitely large room, Hex would fit inside it.”

Pondor Stibbons had to jog to keep up with the Archchancellor. “In fact sir, I did ask for a room larger than that, but even Hex couldn't figure out-”

Another sonic boom cut Ponder off.

“-ing tell me what you asked for!” Ridcully shouted.

Ponder wasn't exactly sure where Ridcully's sentence started, but he was glad he didn't hear most of what was said.

Mercifully, Ridcully sped up and quickly reached Hex. He ripped open the door, and was shoved backwards by a shelf. He shot to his feet and did his best to pretend what just happened didn't happen. A group of wizards had caught up to him, and he was about to start shouting at everyone when he realized they weren't looking at him. He followed their gaze.

“HELLO,” said Death. He said, “COUGH, COUGH,” nervously.

“I hope you're not here for a group pickup, old chap,” Riddcully said, his mouth dry.

“I DON'T THINK SO,” said Death.

The wizards all took a step backwards.

“I DO THINK THIS IS MY FAULT, HOWEVER.”

“Explain yourself then, man!” Ridcully shouted, reverting back to his Archchancellor role in his terror. He then realized he hadn't yelled at a faculty member who couldn't yell back (or hit him with a scythe), and added, “If you don't mind, of course.”

“IT'S THE APOCRALYPSE, AGAIN, I'M AFRAID.” Death said.

The wizards relaxed.

“Oh, is that all?” asked Ridcully, relieved. “Someone fetch Rincewind!” he bellowed.

“Ook,” said the Librarian.

“I saw him too, sir. He really was running through the gates as soon as the first windows were shattering,” said the Senior Wrangler. He gulped. “And the Luggage was in front of him.”

“RINCEWIND CAN NOT HELP US THIS TIME.” said Death. “I WAS DISCUSSING WHAT TO DO NEXT WITH HEX. I THINK HE TOOK THINGS A LITTLE MORE LITERALLY THAN I MEANT THEM.”

Hex's voice had always been unsettling, since it never really came from anywhere, but it was still horrifying to hear it when you couldn't even see him. “Death asked for help. He said no one on this plane can help us. He said he likes cats.”

“I DID NOT SAY-”

“I JUST WISH THERE WAS SOME SORT OF CAT WHO I COULD TALK WITH ABOUT THIS.” said Hex, in an amazing imitation of Death. He almost sounded jealous.

“Did you really summon me here because you wanted to talk with a cat?” Ajani asked, walking out of Hex's building.

Rincewind knew it. He had wanted to believe the Luggage was warning him of impending danger by fleeing, but now felt like a fool for daring to hope. He realized the truth when he caught up to it in the Mended Drum: it had run towards the danger. Or, rather, it had run towards a woman who looked like Conina, if Conina lit her hair on fire. It was sitting next to the woman whose hair was on fire, as if it already decided to be on the fire-woman's side instead of...well instead of whoever's side it was on before.

The fire thing kept drawing Rincewind's attention, as flames that aren't really burning anything tend to do. Even more than flames that do burn you, he realized. Burny-flames you could at least trust. You touched it:you got burned. He had no clue what would happen if he touc-

Chandra looked up and glared at the man in the dirty dress who was staring at her.

Rincewind realized he didn't want to know what would happen if he touched that woman, and wondered why touching her was even a thought that entered his mind. He turned to run, desperately in need of potatoes, and collided with a hooded man who was oozing octarine light. Beer splattered everywhere.

“Let me guess,” said Rincewind, without standing up. “You're here to save the world and you need my help to blah blah blah.”

“That beer cost eigh-” Jace began, ignoring him.

Rincewind bounced up and clapped a hand over the wizards mouth. He had no idea who the man was, but he knew that offending this guy was better than a wizard leaking magic saying that number.

Once Rincewind regained consciousness he reconsidered his conclusion.

“Then she yelled at me to do as I was told, sir,” Reginald Shoe explained to Vimes. “She waved her hands like she was casting a spell. She didn't have a hat, so I knew she wasn't a witch, but I still felt the magic in the air. That's when Colon showed up.” Reg paused. “He got hit square in the back of the head, sir.”

“Is the Sergeant okay?” Vimes asked, jerking a thumb towards a wobbling Sergeant Colon.

Colon opened his eyes and started to roll a cigarette, noticed where he was, and stood to attention. He was good enough; Vimes let it go, for now.

“Then what happened?” Vimes asked.

“That's when Detritus...calmed her down, sir,” Reg said.

“And how long has she been calmed down for?” Colon asked.

“Many hours,” Detritus said. “Igor said she be awake soon with no mentiable damage.” He glared at everyone in the room. “He say to let her rest on da couch in here til she wakes up.”

Igor remained silent.

Vimes wondered if 'no mentionable damage' was the same as 'undamaged', saw Colon wobble onto a chair, and decided to talk to Detritus about that later. “And all she asked you do to was to follow her?” he asked Reg.

“Yea, that was the odd bit. She seemed real confused when she saw me, then got angry when I asked her why I should follow her.

Vimes nodded. She was dressed as if she was a seamstress. But talking to Reg was something a seamstress did out of desperation, not out of confusion.

“She don't have no kind of identification and only had one piece of jewelry.” Corporal Nobby said, popping up behind everyone.

“Put it back,” Vimes said automatically.

“Now,” Captain Carrot added, walking into the room.

“What?! What?! I never took her ring. It doesn' even look valuable.” Nobby rambled, but no one really listened. Nobby put the ring back while he thought no one was looking.

After everyone saw Nobby return the ring, Carrot asked about the unconscious woman.

Reg was a zombie with time on his hands, and never minded repeating himself. “Well, sir, I was walking down-”

“Detritus hit her for yelling and maybe casting a spell at Reg, which hit Colon,” Vimes quickly interrupted. He sighed, and added “She might be a witch.”

“Where is her hat?” Carrot asked. “She might forgive Detritus for hitting her if her hat's okay,”

“That's the thing captain!” Reg said eagerly. “She didn't have one. Just these goat horn-things. And she didn't act like a witch. She acted like a queen in one of those plays. Like I said, I was walking-”

“They are not goat horns,” Liliana interrupted before anyone else could.

This is just for fun. I have no relation to Terry Pratchett or Magic: The Gathering. (As the lack of humor and well designed cards should clearly demonstrate.)