Discworld Stories

Politics is a cutthroat game, but when you're dead, it doesn't matter what they cut. And it is a dirty game, filled with the kind of people that think nothing of ruining an opponent's life, but few go so far as throwing their counterparts through windows. When Balmy Bymeadow is improbably murdered, his son, Myld, is forced to carry on his father's legacy, but, in order to do so, he must take the unprecedented course of keeping his dead father around. Aided by Finella, a uniquely talented taxidermist, her sister, Flinda, a self-appointed Fairly Gods-Mother, and Phibber Monkshot, a wily and incredibly competent civil servant, in his corner, Myld must navigate the torrid waters of politics, deal with his surprisingly mobile dead father, avoid several near-death experiences and learn what it requires to get elected in a city where politics is quite literally a life or death struggle. With a pinch of 'Yes, Minister', a dash of 'The Walking Dead', and a heaped spoonful of 'Discworld'.

When a mage is found dead, and, at a rough measurement, at least a head shorter, the only clue to his fate lies in the key gripped in his hand. A very magical key that sets the leaders in the Guild of Mages, Prestidigitators, Illusionists and General Wielders of Magic (not including Witches) in a bit of a quandary, because none of them want to touch it. Thus, the investigation is left in the thoroughly incapable hands of the three mages in the highly dangerous, very almost deadly on a daily basis, Thaumatological Gubbins Department of the Guild. Accompanied by a young(ish, these are mages after all) member of the Guild tasked with recording the progress of the investigation, the three mages set out on a perilous journey that will involve several belligerent doors, a three cart race, and, probably, a number of people wondering what the Hel is going on and why one of the mages continues to shout 'Power!' at every opportunity. An ONC novella like no other.

When a fellow witch is accused of a heinous crime, Rowburta Copperbottom. A witch of minimal magical ability but a thirst for knowledge, must investigate the allegations and then prove at a trial the innocence of her colleague. But, with mysterious enemies trying to thwart her at every turn, Rowburta must rely on far more than her witchly magics to aid her in a race against time to prove that justice isn't just blind, but not averse to a little monetary tipping of the scales, either. Rowburta has more than magic to help, she has the lore. A tale in the Terry Pratchett inspired Godworld, where people are about to meet the world's first Witch Loreyer. An ONC novella, based on Prompt 14: "Not everyone in your coven becomes a witch doctor. But you? You are the witch lawyer and take care of the mystical laws of the magical world."

VIDEO HERE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8Pusl0wOqc In the Moleman's Epic Rap Battles Season 2 finale, it's a battle royale of Grim Reapers, with one VERY special guest appearance to conquer them all!

SciFi short stories for the Sci-Friday challenges

A short tribute to Sir Terry, without pride but with respect.

There's a new thief in Ankh-Morpork, and Sir Samuel Vimes of the City Watch will find that tracking them down will lead him to places most unexpected. This is a piece of Discworld fanfiction. All characters, locations and concepts are the intellectual copyrighted material of Terry Pratchett and his associated publishers.

The Ankh-Morpork City Watch has a new recruit, and it's up to its finest to show him the ropes. Sadly, the finest were busy, so... This is a piece of Discworld fanfiction. All characters, locations and concepts are the intellectual copyrighted material of Terry Pratchett and his associated publishers.

Private Detective Jake Paladin wasn't exactly what you'd call a success story. Down on his luck and with more bad habits than a tavern full of drunk dwarves, he was just trying to survive in a world where magic was real, and mythical creatures roamed the streets like they owned the place. Today, he was handed a case-a missing man-simple enough for anyone else, but for Jake? Well, it would require every scrap of his wit, a lot of patience, and maybe a small miracle. Especially considering his companions. Harrocan, the elf who had been his best (and only) friend for years, and who had the uncanny ability to turn every occasion into a farse. And then there was Mord, a creature who appeared as a woman... sort of. Together, they navigate the bright lights and rotten stench that is Lodenon, chasing a trail and trying desperately to ignore the syren's call. Jake

It's kinda discworld fan fic, and kinda just riffing on the concepts; the importance of libraries and the desire to read just one page more...

A group of unsuspecting tourists board Rhiffuston Cobalt's dragon air bus on its maiden voyage, expecting to see the sights of Kanton-Elyp, not find themselves hurtling into parts unknown, being dragged there by a dragon called 'Daisy', who is about to explode in mid-air thanks to a Sloemarshen feeding it lethal gold dust. Leaving the blazing City of Kanton-Elyp behind, they set off on an un-planned adventure. At least they've got a crack assassin with them who is armed to the false teeth (She's got knitting needles and she isn't afraid to use them) and ... a lost vegetarian.

A rare glimpse into the world of one C.M.O.T. Dibbler. This is a piece of Discworld fanfiction. All characters, locations and concepts are the intellectual copyrighted material of Terry Pratchett and his associated publishers.

A short humorous fantasy tale about the challenges of human resources in the forgotten realms.

Every mourning one hundred thousand chickens, two hundred thousand goats, five hundred and eighty-two rats are killed (The bloody dwarfs, at least they've stopped eating the dogs) to feed the growing city. Fifty thousand of gallons of water are consumed, and numerous cloths dyes veagtables herbs fruits and candles. Every single day. The city grows, the city breaths, and the city poops one hundred thousand chic... ...fresh straight out into the ocean every single day. But most of all the city shines. And in the center of the city a young girl sleeps peaceful, dreaming of dragons Golems and Werewolves, with her five foot tall sword laying on her bedside table. "What brings you too my domain." The Golems voice rumbled through the air, small rocks falling from the ceiling. The thing was huge, Clara doubted her sword was going to do anything against it. She gulped. "Just...you know going sight seeing that's all." She said conversationally.