The smell of snow on the ground, sound's of armor and horses, fear, someone looming over.
Wilhelm sat up with a scream. Margot, his wife sat up.
"The dream again?" she asked, rubbing his back.
"Yes. The dream."
Wilhelm sat at a street corner, sketch pad on his lap, and a sign by him.
'Caricatures, 1 dollar.'
Nobby and Colon stood on the other side of the street.
"How long do you give him Sarge?" Nobby asked.
Colon shook his hand in the air.
"Maybe a week. If he's lucky."
Across the street several Art's Guild heavies tried to convince Wilhelm that he shouldn't
work without a license. Wilhelm disagreed, leaving one heavy unconscious, and the other
with a foot stuffed into his ear.
"Possibly a few months" Colon conceded. Wilhelm was kicking the stuffing out of one of the
heavies, then rifling though their pockets.
"Or he might just work out... Come on, we'd better give him some advice."
They wandered across the sheet. Wilhelm turned, ready to fight.
Colon held up his hand. "Don't worry, we're the Watch."
"The innocent man has nothing to worry about from the Watch?" Wilhelm asked.
"Something like that. You see, in this city, the guilds are very powerful. If you annoy them
to much, you get....removed." Wilhelm nodded.
"I suggest that you find somewhere else to work. Have a look in here." Colon took a copy of
The Times. "There is always work in here." Wilhelm opened the paper and looked though it.
"Thank you very much officer." Colon and Nobby wandered off. Wilhelm sat against the wall
and read though the paper.
It was busy in the Times office. Men, dwarfs and trolls were running around, losing papers,
finding papers, and generally getting in the mess of producing a paper. Wilhelm stood in the
doorway, looking around. A dwarf wandered up.
"Do you want to put an add in the paper?" he asked, squinting up at Wilhelm.
"I would like to see the manager?" he asked.
"SACRISSA!" the dwarf yelled and disappeared into the mess. A young woman wandered up.
"Yes? What do you want?" she demanded. She had ink on her hands and face, and looked
harassed.
Wilhelm struggled for words, then pulled out his sketch pad and pencil. A quick drawing later
and Sacrissa was shown a caricature of herself. She looked at it for a moment, and
scratched her nose. "WILLIAM!" she bellowed.
An young man appeared. "Yes, what is it? We still need another 5 inches for
the letters page."
"I think we have it."
"Not another leek!" he protested.
"No, better!" she handed him the pad. He looked down and his eyebrows rose.
"How long does it take you to do that?"
Wilhelm took the pad back. His hand darted around the pad and William saw a caricature of
himself. He nodded.
"Can you do it from pictures?"
"I do not know. I have not tried."
"OTTO!"
"Yes, William?" A tall man wearing a vest with lots of pockets wandered
up, carrying a iconograph.
"Do we have any pictures of Vetinari?" Otto fumbled in his vest and
produced an iconograph. William thrust it at Wilhelm. A short while
later and William grinned.
"Perfect! I'll pay you 5 dollars a picture. Can you write?"
Wilhelm blinked.
"Yes, I was a teacher. Before I had to leave." William looked at him.
"Where was that?"
"Muntab." William nodded and held out his hand.
Wilhelm shook it.
Wilhelm sat up with a scream. Margot, his wife sat up.
"The dream again?" she asked, rubbing his back.
"Yes. The dream."
Wilhelm sat at a street corner, sketch pad on his lap, and a sign by him.
'Caricatures, 1 dollar.'
Nobby and Colon stood on the other side of the street.
"How long do you give him Sarge?" Nobby asked.
Colon shook his hand in the air.
"Maybe a week. If he's lucky."
Across the street several Art's Guild heavies tried to convince Wilhelm that he shouldn't
work without a license. Wilhelm disagreed, leaving one heavy unconscious, and the other
with a foot stuffed into his ear.
"Possibly a few months" Colon conceded. Wilhelm was kicking the stuffing out of one of the
heavies, then rifling though their pockets.
"Or he might just work out... Come on, we'd better give him some advice."
They wandered across the sheet. Wilhelm turned, ready to fight.
Colon held up his hand. "Don't worry, we're the Watch."
"The innocent man has nothing to worry about from the Watch?" Wilhelm asked.
"Something like that. You see, in this city, the guilds are very powerful. If you annoy them
to much, you get....removed." Wilhelm nodded.
"I suggest that you find somewhere else to work. Have a look in here." Colon took a copy of
The Times. "There is always work in here." Wilhelm opened the paper and looked though it.
"Thank you very much officer." Colon and Nobby wandered off. Wilhelm sat against the wall
and read though the paper.
It was busy in the Times office. Men, dwarfs and trolls were running around, losing papers,
finding papers, and generally getting in the mess of producing a paper. Wilhelm stood in the
doorway, looking around. A dwarf wandered up.
"Do you want to put an add in the paper?" he asked, squinting up at Wilhelm.
"I would like to see the manager?" he asked.
"SACRISSA!" the dwarf yelled and disappeared into the mess. A young woman wandered up.
"Yes? What do you want?" she demanded. She had ink on her hands and face, and looked
harassed.
Wilhelm struggled for words, then pulled out his sketch pad and pencil. A quick drawing later
and Sacrissa was shown a caricature of herself. She looked at it for a moment, and
scratched her nose. "WILLIAM!" she bellowed.
An young man appeared. "Yes, what is it? We still need another 5 inches for
the letters page."
"I think we have it."
"Not another leek!" he protested.
"No, better!" she handed him the pad. He looked down and his eyebrows rose.
"How long does it take you to do that?"
Wilhelm took the pad back. His hand darted around the pad and William saw a caricature of
himself. He nodded.
"Can you do it from pictures?"
"I do not know. I have not tried."
"OTTO!"
"Yes, William?" A tall man wearing a vest with lots of pockets wandered
up, carrying a iconograph.
"Do we have any pictures of Vetinari?" Otto fumbled in his vest and
produced an iconograph. William thrust it at Wilhelm. A short while
later and William grinned.
"Perfect! I'll pay you 5 dollars a picture. Can you write?"
Wilhelm blinked.
"Yes, I was a teacher. Before I had to leave." William looked at him.
"Where was that?"
"Muntab." William nodded and held out his hand.
Wilhelm shook it.