The Watch arrive...and where they're staying isn't exactly the Ritz. In fact it is based on a little place I stayed in last year, which had a staircase so small you had to twist diagonally to make it downstairs. No joke. And it had pew-like seats, whilst being located a few hundred feet from a ruined monastery. Make of that what you will. As ever I would love reviews, especially since I am in the midst of exam season and it's getting me down, hence the slow updates.

They were apparently staying in a tiny cottage, in the middle of a rather feeble wood, in which the trees appeared to be relying on each other to stand up.

'You have got to be joking.'

'How Often Does Lord Vetinari Joke, Sir?'

Vimes glared at Dorlf, not out of malice, but because he had to glare at someone. 'It's hard to say, but when he does he makes really serious jokes that no one else can see the funny side of.'

Dorfl nodded solemnly. 'I See. So I Should Not Laugh At This Point?'

'No.' This was Angua. She thought she should step in before the Vimes colour chart of rage progressed from magenta to terracotta. As ever the exact shade could be seen on his face and ears.

Colon was looking at it, aghast.

'What's up?' This was from a nervous Nobby. Living in an enclosed space with an enraged Vimes was something only Sybil had been known to survive. And she was used to dragons. Nobby wasn't even used to living with other humans.

'I...I don't like the country.'

'This is hardly the country, Fred. This is the woods.'

'What's the difference?'

'Less fields and more bears and wolves and suchlike.'

Colon whimpered. 'Really?'

'Yes.' Nobby tried to act as though he was an expert on all things forest-related and followed-up with 'and really savage owls.'

'Owls, Nobby?'

'Yeah. What can swivel their beak round 360 degrees.'

Carrot interrupted in his usual amiable manner. 'You mean heads, Nobby. Owls swivel their heads.'

It was too little too late for Sergeant Colon, who had run into the cottage. And then came running out again.

'What now?' Vimes had come back from his private world of rage.

'It's all one room, sir.' Colon was an urban person. He liked a house to have multiple rooms. 'The downstairs is just one big space. Only it's not big, it's small, sir. But it's relatively big, because it's all there is on the ground floor, you see?'

'Sir he's babbling.' Angua sighed. Colon was obtuse enough sane. She wasn't being unkind, it was just the truth.

Reg ventured in. It got him away from Nobby, who was trying to comfort the gibbering Colon. He got as far as the first (and last) floor before coming out again.

'I don't know what upset him so much. Okay, so it's small, but you should see some of the coffins these days, barely room to breathe, if you felt that way inclined. And the upstairs has different rooms, admittedly not many, but still. The downstairs just has...well come and see. Only not all at once, I don't think we'll be able to fit everyone in.'

What the downstairs had, was in fact, very little. A single wooden bench, that Visit identified as a pew looted from somewhere or another. A small and evidently much used table, that had more paper shoved under the wobbly legs than original wood. A fireplace, soot-encrusted and bereft of any form of fuel dominated the room, which wasn't hard. Despite the sparse furniture the remaining space was still cramped. Upon witnessing the first floor Vimes would have preferred sleeping on the floor to the beds, which looked fundamentally unstable and cripplingly uncomfortable.

'Okay. I suggest we burn this place to the ground and go and live in the forest.' Vimes caught Carrot's eye. 'Only joking.'

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