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‘Vimes ran a practised eye over the assortment before him. It was the usual Ankh-Morpork mob in times of crisis; half of them were here to complain, a quarter of them were here to watch the other half, and the remainder were here to rob, importune or sell hotdogs to the rest.’ Insurrection is in the air in Ankh-Morpork. The Haves and Have-Nots are about to fall out all over again. Captain Sam Vimes of the city’s ramshackle Night Watch is used to this. It’s enough to drive a man to drink. Well, to drink more. But this time, something is different – the Have-Nots have found the key to a dormant, lethal weapon that even they don’t fully understand, and they’re about to unleash a campaign of terror on the city. Time for Captain Vimes to sober up.
This is where the dragons went. They lie... not dead, not asleep, but... dormant. And although the space they occupy isn't like normal space, nevertheless they are packed in tightly. They could put you in mind of a can of sardines, if you thought sardines were huge and scaly. And presumably, somewhere, there's a key... GUARDS! GUARDS! is the 8th Discworld novel - and after this, dragons will never be the same again!
Here there be dragons...and the denizens of Ankh-Morpork wish one huge firebreather would return from whence it came. Long believed extinct, a superb specimen of draco nobilis ("noble dragon" for those who don't understand italics) has appeared in Discworld's greatest city. Not only does this unwelcome visitor have a nasty habit of charbroiling everything in its path, in rather short order it is crowned King (it is a noble dragon, after all...).
Welcome to Guards! Guards!, the eighth book in Terry Pratchett’s legendary Discworld series. Long believed extinct, a superb specimen of draco nobilis ("noble dragon" for those who don't understand italics) has appeared in Discworld's greatest city. Not only does this unwelcome visitor have a nasty habit of charbroiling everything in its path, in rather short order it is crowned King (it is a noble dragon, after all...). How did it get there? How is the Unique and Supreme Lodge of the Elucidated Brethren of the Ebon Night involved? Can the Ankh-Morpork City Watch restore order – and the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork to power? Magic, mayhem, and a marauding dragon...who could ask for anything more?
A new stage adaptation of one of Pratchett's best-selling novels Set in Ankh-Morpork one of the most thoroughly imagined cities in fantasy, Night Watch is the story of Sam Vimes, running hero of the Guards sequence, who finds himself cast back in time to the Ankh-Morpork of his youth. With a psychopath from his own time rising in the vile ranks of the Cable Street Unmentionables complicating things, Vimes has to ensure that history takes its course so that he will have the right future to go back to, and to keep his younger self alive."One of the funniest English authors alive" (Independent)
TERRY PRATCHETT'S GUARDS! GUARDS! THE PLAY adapted for the stage by Stephen Briggs Terry Pratchett's infamous city of Ankh-Morpork is under threat from a 60-foot fire-breathing dragon, summoned by a secret society of malcontented tradesmen. Defending Ankh-Morpork against this threat is the entire, underpaid, undervalued City Night Watch - a drunken and world-weary Captain, a cowardly and overweight Sergeant, a small opportunistic Corporal of dubious parentage...and their newest recruit, Lance-Constable Carrot, who is upright, liberal, law-abiding and keen. Aiding them in their fight for truth, justice and the Ankh-Morporkian way are a small swamp dragon and the Librarian of Unseen University (who just happens to be an orangutan). Stephen Briggs has been involved in amateur dramatics for over 25 years and assures us that the play can be staged without needing the budget of Industrial Light and Magic. Not only that, but the cast should still be able to be in the pub well before closing time. Oh, and a word of advice omitted from the play text: Learn the Words Havelock, Lord Vetinari
'Look after the dead', said the priests, 'and the dead will look after you.' Wise words in all probability, but a tall order when, like Teppic, you have just become the pharaoh of a small and penniless country rather earlier than expected, and your treasury is unlikely to stretch to the building of a monumental pyramid to honour your dead father. He’d had the best education money could buy of course, but unfortunately the syllabus at the Assassin's Guild in Ankh-Morpork did not cover running a kingdom and basic financial acumen...