Wow im updating well quickly, oh well, more story for you guys
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Bob looked around the cell, he was manacled to the wall, a chair and a table sat in front of him, to one side a couple of sticks lay propped against the wall, and on the other side, 2 swords, and directly in front of him was, The Commander, he was wearing no armour, and had a sweat band on each wrist.
"So, you finally bothered to rejoin us."
Said Vimes, unchaining his arms.
"You've been out a couple of days."
He helped him to the chair
# That's what you get for using up your luck, oh well, I might need it soon, so I've got a clean slate. #
Bob sat down in the chair
"Cigar?"
"Um, no thanks, I prefer something with a little more kick to it."
He almost anticipated the shot enough to dodge off the chair, but almost never won a football match.
"Urgh"
Vimes had kicked him off the chair, and into the sticks, which fell on top of him.
"That enough kick for you?"
"Jeez duke,"
Bob got up using one of the sticks.
"I gave it back."
"Gave what back? Nothing was stolen, yeah I smashed some glass the other day, but watcha gunna do?"
"If I didn't steal anything, then why am I here?"
Vimes aimed a fist, but this time Bob was ready, he deflected the punch with the end of the quarterstaff.
"Oh, getting faster boy, I like it."
He grabbed the other staff of the floor.
"Now you have two options, boy."
Bob rankled at that, and they begun circling each other.
"I can either beat you into a bloody pulp and send you to the mime pits for the rest of your, soon-to-be, miserable life."
The commander attacked with the staff, and Bob, deflected, countered and blocked.
"And the other option, Sam?"
Bob struck back, but was countered blocked and dodged, more expertly than he had done.
"The other option,"
Vimes cracked his neck,
"Mr. Bobson. Is that you defeat me, or manage to avoid being pulped, and you join the city watch, as a new corporal, you'd have earnt it, however, you won't be allowed to quit, ever."
They exchanged blows, while Bob thought for a second.
"So, I either rot to hell in the Mime pits, or beat the hell, out of an innocent old man, and be condemned to join him in his fate?"
The duke countered a sweeping blow, by leaning backwards and kicking Bob in the testicles, before landing on his back.
#Matrix rip off alert#
"That's pretty much it, apart from the innocent part, anyway."
Bob fell to the floor and dropped his staff, which rolled across the floor, he grunted, and sat trying to heal his balls with his small magics.
Not waiting for him to get up, Vimes leapt to his feet, grabbed his staff and started to swing it at Bobs stomach, Bob reached out a hand and glared angrily at the staff at the other side of the room, it stayed still for a second, then flew into his hand out of sheer embarrassment, while he swung it up to block the commanders crippling attack
*Cough* Star Wars rip*Cough*
"Bloody hell fire!!!"
Vimes whispered as Bob flipped onto his feet then pushed him back with a variety of swings, kicks and jabs to the head, then as he approached again, Bob planted his staff in the floor, leaned on it, and ran up the wall, then kicked Vimes in the chest.
The man fell backwards onto the table, dropping his staff, which Bob snatched out of mid air.
"Not so cocky now, sir."
This stung Vimes, in ways that you couldn't imagine, Bob tossed him his staff, and jumped over Bobs low sweep.
Call it, and it shall come.
Vimes let out the 'beast', Bob paled back under the sheer fury of the blows, which Samuel Vimes, unleashed upon him. He was no longer fighting, His Grace, the Honourable, Commander, Sir Samuel Vimes, Duke of Ankh. No, this was Sergeant Sam Vimes! Before his whisky soaked days had dragged him to the very core of alcoholism, Vimes had been the best sergeant to grace the streets of Ankh-Morpork, A street fighter, well trained in weaponry, thanks to a ruthless task master, himself, before the guilds, before the policing had been done by the thieves themselves, sergeant Vimes had ruled the streets, Sergeant Vimes had sent more men to the Tanty, than any other watch officer, since stone face Vimes himself. Sergeant Vimes had not been seen by the man himself since Carcer.
Bob was no longer fighting the ambassadorial, organiser of 500 hundred men, he was fighting the sole of the street, and he was pissed off!
Bob shoved him back, and then leapt up the wall for his life. As Mister Vimes smashed his staff in half, he scampered up the wall, until he reached the ceiling.
"You can not hide up there forever Mr. Bobson, you are a good fighter, but if you do not come down soon, I shall get very angry, then I shall call sergeant Detritus to come and finish the lesson I started, with the piecemaker. One hundred arrows, fired from a single siege crossbow, do you have any idea how much damage it will do to the stone roof, not to mention you. This destroys buildings and leaves blades of grass standing."
Bob was biding his time as he watched the man below pace about. Then he dropped, and landed on Vimes' shoulders, he grabbed the staff from the surprised man, leaned back as far as he could go, and then flipped him over his head, into the remains of the table.
He got the staff ready, while Vimes calmly picked himself up, dusted himself off, walked over to the sword rack, and pulled out one.
"Okay, Mr. Bobson, we fight till first blood form the torso."
The two circled, neither taking the eyes off the other. Bob didn't dare change weapons, this was it, this was where his life branched, he shook of a vision of trousers and concentrated on his opponent, he seemed somehow rejuvenated. Bob started spinning his staff, calling up some luck from 2 seconds before, and soon, the ends were glowing red from the wind resistance. He approached Vimes, his staff glowing with friction.
There are moments like these when universes collide.
Bob was breathing heavily with the exertion, and attacked Vimes, with the spinning staff, Sam started blocking the blows, his sword starting to glow blue, at the faster speeds he was having to move it at, Bob spun, and picked up the other sword with his free hand, the battle was speeding up, watchmen watching from the single window starting whispering excitedly, Vimes smashed the staff in half with his sword, and Bob abandoned it. His sword was glowing red now, with every clash of swords, sparks flew off in every direction.
Vimes almost hit Bob, missing his hand by an inch, and out of the corner of their eyes, a dark figure GREWe out of the shadows with a blue glowing sword, and a red one, one in each hand.
ARE YOU GETTING THIS? He said to the rat next to him, IT PAYS TO TAKE AN INTEREST
They locked swords, the glow not fading a jot.
"Duke?"
"What boy?"
"I AM YOUR CORPORAL!!"
"What? No?"
Everything went into slow motion
Bob took his lower hand off the sword, and grabbed a piece of wood from his belt, he'd taken it from the broken staff earlier, and scratched Vimes across his chest with it, a red trail followed the stake along the commander's chest, a single drop of blood welled up along the line, and dropped, to the floor, where it splashed against the sand covered stone slabs.
The shadowy figure disappeared, and the door to the cell opened. The two looked at each other for a second then through their swords into the walls behind them, where the blades shattered, and the handles fell down, to the floor, the glow… gone.
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I'm sorry I had to do such a star wars rip off, any way, I am sorry to say, that's the end of this fic, but soon I shall start a sequel, maybe even do a trilogy, explaining what leads to how we find Bob at the start of this. I am proud to say I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did while I wrote it, thanks to all my reviewers. And though it doesn't say it, the Rocky Christmas, my Artemis Fowl fic, WILL cross over with Discworld, and commander Vimes WILL be in it.
This is now my longest fic. Period. In chapters, and words. So, enjoy my next fic, see u, bye