The Ankh-Morpork Opera House was stunning to the point of majesty from the front but from the rear, she was a bit of a beast. And deep down in the bowels of the buildings, betwixt the rat runs that housed dressing rooms and storerooms she couldn't have been less glamorous.
The new Patron had yet to arrive on the premises. In fact no one even knew the name of the new Patron, just that there was one and they were already sending on instructions to the staff. Mr Seldom Bucket had decided it was time to retire. He had sold up, but far from go back to his native Lancre, he planned to travel to more exotic climes and see the places so frequently sung about on the stage.
One of the changes from the new owner was the employ of Wright Brailey and his team. Wright was a Wright. His father had been a Wright, his Father's Father before him, in fact all of the males in Wright's family had been Wright* by both name and profession. A troll, Dyscrasite, who dealt with masonry and Truin Forgesson, a Dwarf who specialised in metalwork, assisted Wright's carpentry skills. The trio were travelling the length of the aforementioned rat-runs in search of what they had been told were 'original features'. They had been at the task for hours and were so far into the 'bowels' that the narrow, uneven walls beset with pipes would better described as the lower intestines.
*Let's face it most men think they are.
"Are we nearly dere yet?" Dysc asked, practically doubled over and scraping the walls.
"I don't even know where there is!" Wright answered exasperated. "All I know is, there are supposed to be stores with some of the very first fittings and fixtures of the Opera House. Although what sort of state they'll be in…" He shrugged. There were puddles of water here and there, copious amounts of rat droppings and oh yes, rats to go along with them.
"We've been heading on a downward gradient for the past half-mile," Truin commented, handing candles to the other two for their lanterns. Her bias cut chain mail glittered prettily in the yellow light. "I think we're in the right place. I mean this work is old." She tapped the nearest wall, which crumbled a little to that effect. Dysc made the error of doing the same and with a slow creak and a loud thud the wall fell, blowing out all their lanterns.
###
All three of them coughed profusely in the dark, then swore just as profusely until Truin found a match and shed some light on the matter. Dysc had fallen through a wall and revealed a dusty bricked up forgotten space. There were rat bones scattered across the floor and in the corner a large rectangular shape covered in sheets.
"What d'you s'pose that is?" she asked.
Wright didn't know but he hoped it was what he was looking for. He climbed over his fallen comrade, "Sorry Dysc, mate."
"S'alright boss," he rumbled back. "I take five, yeah?"
He tugged at the sheets, which tore and fell off the hidden object with little to no effort. It was like unwrapping a Halloween present what with all the webs and dead spiders. Wright revealed something entirely unexpected.
"It's a piano. A Grand piano at that!" The fallboard was up, exposing the ivory keyboard and he did what practically everyone did when in front of a piano. He tapped a key. The single note that came out of the dusty wreck was sweeter than any of them could have expected and it sent a pleasurable shiver up Wright's spine.
After a beat he turned to his colleagues. "Let's get her up top."
"You're kidding right?" Truin retorted. "It's done in."
"She just needs some TLC is all." He gently patted the piano lid which creaked. "Besides, I'd say she comes under the description of original features don't you?"
Slowly Dysc extricated himself from the wall and helped manoeuvre the piano out, sideways. Truin worked at the pins on each leg so that they could be removed, clearly the only way the instrument could have been transported this far down such narrow corridors. As Wright took the lighter end of the piano he almost felt strong enough to carry the whole thing. There was nothing like a new project to put fire into your belly. Of course without Dyscrasite he would have got all but three feet with the heavy load.
As they made their awkward way Truin noticed chains in amongst the dustsheets. They were rusted badly and not worth salvaging so she left them, but she wondered, why would anyone need to chain up a piano?