"I thought we got rooms to ourselves," said Teppic.
Chidder, who had laid claim to the least exposed bed in the whole refrigerator, nodded at him.
"Later on," he said. He lay back, and winced. "Do they sharpen these springs, do you reckon?"
Teppic said nothing. The bed was in fact rather more comfortable than the one he'd slept in at home. His parents, being high born, naturally tolerated conditions for their children which would have been rejected out of hand by destitute sandflies.
Terry Pratchett, Pyramids
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Young Vetinari
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Happy Hogswatch from the Assassins’ Guild.
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There had been one or two like that in Ankh-Morpork - deposed royalty, who had fled their suddenly-dangerous kingdoms for Ankh's hospitable bosom carrying nothing but the clothes they stood up in and a few wagonloads of jewels.
The city, of course, welcomed anyone - regardless of race, colour, class or creed - who had spending money in incredible amounts, but nevertheless the inhumation of surplus monarchs was a regular source of work for the Assassins' Guild.
There was always someone back home who wanted to be certain that deposed monarchs stayed that way. It was usually a case of heir today, gone tomorrow.
Terry Pratchett / Pyramids
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Assassin's Guild pizza party
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50 gold to backstab one old man in the street? Easy money! (Kevin Siembieda from City State of the World Emperor, Judges Guild's D&D campaign setting supplement, 1980)
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trouble’s always gonna find you, baby (but so am i) 🔗
for the @steddiebang
art from @becomingfoxes and art @amethyst-crowns
with bonus art from @jellyfish-confetti and ames
explicit | 88k words | complete
Steve Harrington has spent the better part of the last five years knocking out hit after hit for the Assassin's Guild and becoming one of the most lethal agents in the business. After a series of unprecedented, wildly successful cases across the country, his boss pulls him off the active case roster for eight months. He's been keeping tabs on the Chicago Syndicate for years and has finally deemed Steve ready to take out their leader, The Sandman.
The only problem is that undercover agents have been able to turn up little to no information regarding The Sandman's identity. The only information the Guild has been able to dredge up is the name of one of their business fronts: a sophisticated private nightclub called Hellfire, and the name of its director, Syndicate member Eddie Munson.
or: Eddie is a low ranking member of the mafia and Steve is the assassin hired to kill his boss.
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The companions questline is so funny
I show up, get paid to beat up some guy on the street, go into one (1) dungeon for them and next thing I know I am promoted to one of their top guys and am turned into a werewolf
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This was really hard to draw but I am happy with how it turned out
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I like this slutty lil clown haha
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Vimes took a deep breath. "You see, Miss Wiggs, quite a few of your chums have tried to kill me at home in recent years. As you might expect, I take a dim view of this."
"Easy to see why, sir," said Jocasta, in the voice of one who knows that their only hope of escaping from their present predicament is reliant on the goodwill of another person, who has no pressing reason to have any.
Terry Pratchett, Night Watch
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Lord Downey, opening the Assassins' School for girls:
[Image description: A screenshot of a TikTok comment saying "i support womens rights. but i also support womens wrongs. i love when they do bad things.]
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"The average fool/clown/joculator is funny" factoid is actually a statistical error. No fool/clown/joculator is funny. Lord Havelock Vetinari, who was educated at the nearby Assassins’ Guild is funny was an outlier that was mistakenly recorded due to his proximity and therefore should not have been counted.
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Discworld hot (?) take:
Inigo Skimmer is kinda sexy. Rest in peace you spooky little ✨ scholarship boy. ✨
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