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Mud
That was the first coherent thought that popped into Rincewind's barely conscious mind.
Cold
That was the second thought; he then attempted to move into a comfortable position. This instantly led to a new thought.
Pain
Everything was bruised or worse, if he wasn't so soaked in ice cold water the mud would've be almost relaxing.
He groggily opened his eyes. He was laying face up on the north western shore of Lake Calenhad. How long had he been knocked out after… whatever happened?
The wizard wracked his brain eventually remembering the extremely unlikely series of events that allowed him to escape captivity. Explosions, peril, giant magically mutated fish and an animal ride that made a dragon look like a thoroughbred horse. It wasn't even a Tuesday.
After some time of moaning, groaning, indulging in violent revenge fantasies and crawling Rincewind made it up to the tree line and constructed a small fire.
As he sat there, waiting for his half shredded robes to dry and warmth to return to his… everywhere, he wondered what to do.
His mission so far had been disaster after disaster, of course that was no different from all his other adventures. But it was strange that he had absolutely no idea where to go or how to continue.
He even missed having company on such a journey, no matter how irritating.
"Rincewind!"
He knew that voice and immediately regretted that last thought.
Sure enough as he looked up there was the Archchancellor's face along with all his other distinguished colleagues looking at him from a portal hovering several feet off the ground.
"Oh, wonderful, how good it to see you all again" Rincewind's insincerity dripped from every syllable.
The Archchancellor wilfully ignored the tone, "Likewise, now have you tracked down your errant luggage yet? These portals can't be left open forever you know."
The Damn broke.
"Have I tracked it down? OF COURSE I BLOODY WELL HAVEN'T! I'VE BEEN RUNNING FROM HORDES OF VICOUS MONSTERS, NEARLY KILLED BY A POWERFUL WITCH, CAPTURED, IMPRISONED, HUMILIATED AND THEN HALF DROWNED AND DUMPED ON A BEACH! ALL THE WHILE THE REST OF YOU HAVE DONE ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING TO HELP CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS!"
"Shall I take that as a no?" Asked the Archchancellor, ever so tactfully, after Rincewind's breathing returned to normal. The withering gaze directed at him was again wilfully ignored.
Bravely he continued "Besides we have been assisting; we can now open and close portals almost anywhere in this world with almost total accuracy. Some help should be on the way, at some point, somewhere."
Rincewind looked like he was about to burst into tears.
"Also young Ponder has come up with a device to help you track down the Luggage, should be useful, wouldn't you say?"
Ponder stepped forward and began an explanation of his invention and how it worked. He gave up ten minutes later when he noticed Rincewind appeared to be lost in his own world while several other Wizards had drifted into standing comas.
Ponder sighed "Basically it's a machine that goes Ding; it will do so if it detects the Luggage."
"You see?" Said the Archancellor, having just woken up, "We'll be able send it though along with one or two bits and pieces to help you along."
He looked down at the broken wizard beneath him.
"We'll send booze, and get you a new hat."
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The group had never seen Odin look so happy. He immediately began questioning Leske on every detail on what had happened since he had left.
"Have you ever seen him look so excited?" murmured Leliana to Alistair.
"I didn't know he could do excited," he replied.
"No doubt knowing that his family is safe is a great comfort," added Wynne "all the more so considering" she waved her hand at their surroundings. "Such poverty, I had no idea."
Their conversation was cut short as Odin prepared to leave.
"You're welcome to come with us; I owe a drink at the very least," said Odin, clapping his old friend on the back.
Leske's smile faded a little "Another time salroka, I've got some other business to attend to."
Odin smile stayed, "Blonde or Brunette?"
Leske's smile was now a grimace. "Brunette, she's got a short temper and is not known for her patience."
"Ah, I see." The Warden's smile stayed but his eyes narrowed slightly as a particular name sprang to mind. The look passed almost instantly "well next time I'm in the neighbourhood and you're free then we can catch up properly."
The two dwarfs parted ways, Odin watching his old friend as he left.
"That was rather abrupt," said Alistair to his fellow Warden as they headed back down the road towards the Diamond quarter. "I would've thought he wanted to stay."
"Perhaps he did," agreed Odin "but my old friend had to get back and to report us to the Carta."
"He was spying on us?"
The entire group looked concerned but Odin simply shrugged.
"Of course he was. His timing was perfect, he's carrying decent weapons and after what we did, well, if wasn't still in the Carta he'd be dead."
"And what did you two do?" asked Zevran.
"We killed the Carta's boss, a charming little cave tick named Beraht, after he planned to kill both of us for spoiling an attempt to fix a proving. After we got out I joined the Wardens and Leske was left behind."
"A shady past indeed Warden, I feel like a respectable citizen now, well almost," Zevran quipped.
"No wonder you were surprised to see him, yet you don't seem upset that he's turned against you. Betrayals by friends always cut deepest." Said Leliana, her voice slightly bitter, she remembered another time, another life and a trusted mentor.
"I'm not upset because I know why he's doing what he's doing and frankly if our roles were reversed I'd probably do the same, assuming of course I hadn't fled to the surface." Most of the group looked incredulous at that admission but Odin continued. "He had no choice, none of us in Dust town do. Another thing to sort out once we get this King business settled, if I can."
"And how are you going to settle this leadership quarrel" Sten was clearly thinking how absurd he kings and royalty were and the superiority of the Qun.
Odin smiled his most devious smile "We play kingmaker."
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Many dwarves in the commons had their normal routines disrupted that day by strangers. Most of them were well armed surface folk and, for some strange reason, wanted to hear every bit of gossip about the political situation.
"Mark my words miss" said one merchant as gazed at a redheaded human, whom he thought was very pretty in a skinny sort of way. "Prince Bhelen is the right one for the throne. Wants lots more surface trade and everyone benefits from that, even those stiff necked traditionalists."
"Lord Harrowmont has always been fair minded" said a servant carrying a large basket of laundry when an elderly human mage almost tripped over her. "Always polite and pays on time."
"That vile Bhelen murdered both of his brothers," said a shrill noble lady to the wide eyed human warrior who asked her who she wanted to wear the crown "I ask you, who would elect a king like that?"
"It was probably Harrowmont who got rid of the those two Aeducan lads" said one Smith "spent all those years at King Endrin's side just so he could kill the sons and get himself chosen, despicable."
And so it went on.
"Bhelen will loosen the Caste restrictions, imagine the possibilities!"
"Bhelen will loosen the Caste restrictions, imagine the chaos!"
"Harrowmont stands for traditional values!"
"Harrowmont stands for the Noble's Privileges and Oppression!"
"Bhelen would let the sky into the city!"
"Harrowmont would seal us off from the rest of the world!"
"I hate Politics."
"I-I don't know anything, I swear," said one merchant to a very intimidating golem "n-n-now please put me down!"
"Pity" said Shale "I was hoping to squish the information out of you."
"It doesn't matter who sits on the bloody throne," said one grizzled warrior, his fighting days had long since passed after getting an arrow to the knee. "Kings come and go but the ale still flows and the Darkspawn still sit at our gates."
"A wise statement," replied Sten who promptly downed a quart of lichen ale to the astonishment of the tavern "Society must continue regardless of any individual."
"Do that thing with your tongue again and I tell you anything." Said one previously innocent Dwarven girl, still trying to get her breath back, to a smooth talking elf in one of the city's more quiet back streets.
"You Again!?" said the Proving Master as he recognised the same Casteless bastard striding along. That creature had despoiled the arena and haunted his memory ever since. "Leave this place before I summon the city guard!"
"Completely worth it," said Odin to an equally confused dog and trunk.
In all, despite the strangeness of surface people asked such potentially controversial and argument starting questions the Commons had no brawls only one fatality that day. The dwarf in question, one Brother Burkel, recently returned from study at a Chantry and spent the day asking people if they would accept the Maker into their lives before falling over a barrier into the vast lava pit below. In spite of nearly a hundred people being within close proximity of the fallen preacher they all had no idea how this terrible, terrible accident happened.
As for the group of questioners they found a quiet corner of Tapster's Tavern and began to put the pieces together and make their choice. By the next day it was decided by a slim majority that Prince Bhelen would be the better King.
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As I'm sure many of you are aware Sir Terry Pratchett passed away yesterday (12th March 2015) at the age of 66 after a lengthy battle with early onset Alzheimer's. The loss of such a fine author, pillar of modern fantasy writing and great human being will be shared by millions across the world. In a career that spanned nearly five decades he wrote a truly magnificent collection of works that I'm certain will be read and loved for many years to come. My thoughts are with his family and friends at this time and hope that somewhere he's sitting down, with a nice cup of tea and a having good chat with Death about curry, cats and the absurdities of life that he was all too aware of.