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OOC: I'm going to be on holiday for the next two weeks. I might get a chance to post while I'm away, but I can't guarantee it. Just to let you all know.

(ooc) At the risk of repeating myself: I've noticed one or two new members, if you're interested now would be a very good time to write yourself into the story. Read through a few posts to get the hang of things then create a character. Only rules are make them discworldy, original and a rookie, you only just joined the force a day or two ago, maybe you've been round a bit longer if strictly necessary.
And I don't mind at all if you already have characters i other threads. (ooc)

These past few weeks had been a pain for Ddar Pinthunter. First, he lost his job at Burleigh and Stronginthearm's since the contracts had expired. Ddar had no clue what a "pink slip" was until he opened up his lunchpale and found a pink piece of paper that said:

"Due to the refent cuttbakf in goverment spending,
we are haveing to let go several memberf off ore
staff, we appreciate your long servife with the
company, and wish you the beft of lukk."

Ddar stared at the paper, hoping that he looked at it in just the right light, he would see, "just kidding!" written on there. Ddar went around to the other armorsmiths to see who might be hiring, but luck was not with him. He eventually heard about the Watch hiring from some of his friends, but the fact that they were snickering and quaffing their pints at the same time made Ddar uneasy a this job prospect. "A job is a job!" He declared loudly, and walked to the watch house.

Ddar looked at the portly man, who in turn, stared back at the dwarf. "Tides must change as this man walks around," thought Ddar; while SGT Colon looked at what must have been a dwarf, but the nose seemed to shove everything else on his face around for more room. "Are you here to enlist?"

The question broke Ddar's train of thought, and it needed a few seconds as the conductor looked quickly for another set of tracks. "Oh, yes, yes, I am. I am imminately qualified to serve as a watchman. I have been under the employ of Burleigh and Stronginthearm for several years now...." He stopped giving his practised speech when he saw that SGT Colon was talking to a.... he couldn't quite place the creature that the sergeant was talking to. It had a head, two arms, two legs, a torse, but it resembled a... nothing that Ddar could think of.

"Yes, yes, we of the Watch are always glad to have Dwarves come on board. Burleigh and Stronginthearm, eh? CPL Nobbs here says that we have need of someone familiar with their handywork on the force, and you sound perfect. If you could just repeat after me..."

"I comma square bracket recruit's name square bracket comma do solemnly swear by square bracket recruit's deity of choice square bracket to uphold the Laws and Ordinances of the city of Ankh-Morpork, serve the public truft comma and defend the fubjects of His ftroke Her bracket delete whichever is inappropriate bracket Majefty bracket name of reigning monarch bracket without fear comma favour comma or thought of perfonal fafety semi-colon to purfue evildoers and protect the innocent comma laying down my life if necefsary in the caufe of said duty comma so help me bracket aforefaid deity bracket full stop Gods Save the King stroke Queen bracket delete whichever is inappropriate bracket full stop."

Ddar smiled as he finished the oath. It was a proper oath, the more brackets in it, the more binding it was, and this one had more brackets than any other oath he ever took before.

CPL Nobbs said, "Walk this way," and went down a corridor as SGT Colon heaved himself from behind his desk to walk over to several people gathering in the courtyard, and began giving the oath a second time. After another few seconds of Ddar trying to walk like Nobbs, he gave up, and walked in his own normal way, with the clanking of his tools on his belt that sounded like the brass section of an orchestra had just fallen down the stairs. Nobbs led Ddar to a small room in the basement, located next to a room used by an Igor, Ddar noticed. When Ddar looked into the room, he was agast, and clutched his hand to his chest as he looked at the state of the "arms room" as Nobbs called it.

Ddar rolled up his sleeves as he walked into the room, and began sorting the equipment into "ufeful," "salvagable," and "reforge." Ddar lost track of time as he quickly sorted the breastplates, truncheons, and crossbows. Some of these crossbows weren't even Burleigh and Stronginthearm. Mark III Hines Brothers? Did the Hines Brothers even make crossbows anymore? When Ddar went back up to the surface, he noticed that it was dark, and he wanted a pint to sooth his nerves after a long day of repairing crossbows and making new truncheons on the lathe that had been buried by some old breastplates and boots. Ddar lifted his head, and took a sniff which lasted several minutes as the air around him thinned out, and Ddar got the scent of ale in a nearby bar, and walked over towards The Bucket.

"Pint," said a voice.

Mr. Cheese, the Bucket's barkeep, looked around. Then looked down. Ah. A gnome. He smiled inwardly. Gnomes were good customers. Good customers. Known for their tolerance.

He looked again. The figure standing on the bar sported a long braid, and the small voice was more high-pitched than usual. A female gnome - and from the fiery red of her hair, likely a Feegle! That was rare enough to make Cheese blink, which he didn't do often.

"Pint, barkeep," the gnome repeated.

"Of what, miss?" What did women drink, anyway? Angua usually had fruit juice. Cheery Littlebottom enjoyed a chilled chardonnay.

"Lance-Constable," the girl said proudly, pointing to the pea-sized badge on her vest. "And whatever ye got that comes in pints." She looked down at her feet - she was standing on an old copy of the Ankh-Morpork Times. "And what's this part about the truth makin' ye into a tree?"

"New to town, then?" Cheese said absently, pouring her a slightly short pint of his slightly below average beer. A gnome's a gnome, then, and a copper's a copper, he thought.

"Just give me the beer," Elspeth grumbled, circled the pint glass with an arm and headed down the barstool to get a table.

There was a dwarf in the bar. (She never minded drinking with dwarves, despite the quaffing problem - she'd never thought of getting beer dumped on her head as a BAD thing.) Elspeth noticed he had on a badge - the new recruits were pouring in, then. She clambered up the chair and onto the table, dipped the thimble Cheese had provided into the pint glass, and took a swig. "So yer new, too?" she said.

"Oh, the clan's up in the Ramtop foothills," Elspeth said, "but me, I've been around and about, around and about...." She trailed off, thinking of her home and the times her favorite brother, Big Sane Bertie, would take her up on the buzzard.... best times of her life, really.... She snapped out of the reverie. "This troll yer talkin' about, would that be Sgt. Detritus? I hear he's not so thick as the rest of 'em. Never really had a problem with trolls myself," she added, since it was smart to be on good terms with a species that was immune to a good strong headbutt between the eyes. "Now this Igor fella, him I'd like ta meet. Hear he's got these tomatoes, y'know... mean ones. Killer tomatoes that attack."

She looked sidelong at Ddar and took another swig of her beer. (Pintfinder, eh? Looks like he's livin' up to his name, she thought as the sharp-bearded Watchman took a good quaff. Dwarves get all the best names.) "Sooooo.... in this armory, then, did ye happen to see any... swords? Like about yea big?" She held her arms a Feegle-sword's length apart, then pulled out her pin. "'Cause Sgt. Colon stuck me with this." She paused. "By which I mean, he presented it to me, rather than pokin' me with it. So yer an arms man, are ye?"

Drake, in a very vampirical manner, stepped out from the shadows that didn't even seem to be there. He took one look at the floor of the bar, and swore to himself that he did not want to know what that was. It seemed a bit like bl... no. It wouldn't be. And if it was, so what? I don't need any. He rolled himself a Jolly sailor, and asked the bartender "Whaddayagot?"

"More Watchmen! Come on over here and join us!" said Ddar. It looked as though he got as much ale on him and around him than in him. He swung back to the table and the tools that he had on him made a clanging sound like a silverware drawer tipped out onto the floor, and his overly gelled beard took out a small chunk of chair as he pivoted in the chair to reach for another mug of ale. "I'm Ddar Pintfinder, an' this... this... is my buddy Elspeth." He said as he patted the back of a chair that at first looked vacant.

"I'm Drake. Drake Hula. I am sorry to tell you I know who this monkey you speak of is. He is what they call nobby. I find the name to be quite appropriate. He is suppsedly Human, although I've got my doubts. He's the one thing in the Watch my family would not sink their teeth into. Which is saying something. I understand that he's a good guy, so that takes care of the gender issue, although, again, I've got my doubts." He was waiting. He wanted to see how honest these people were. Would they speak to a vampire? There are certain people, up from where Drake was from, whose only words to a vampire were "are ye a vampyr'? " and wouldn't wait for an answer.