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WOSSNAME -- May 2007 -- Part 2 of 6

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  • Not A Granny
    WOSSNAME -- APRIL 2007 -- PART 2 OF 6 (continued) ... oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ====Part 2 - MORE VITAL NEWS AND WEIRD ALICE 7)
    Message 1 of 1 , May 27 9:53 PM
      WOSSNAME -- APRIL 2007 -- PART 2 OF 6 (continued)





      Saturday 6th October - Cheltenham Festival

      Monday 8th October
      Plymouth WHSmith
      Time: 12.30-1.30
      Store address: 73-75 New George Street, Plymouth, Devon PL1 1RP

      Tuesday 9th October
      Bath Toppings
      Time: evening
      Shop address: The Paragon, Bath, BA1 5LS

      Thursday 11th October
      Waterstone's Nottingham
      Time: 5.30pm-6.30pm
      Shop address: 1-5 Bridlesmith Gate, Nottingham NG1 2GR

      Friday 12th October
      Borders Cambridge
      Time: 1pm (perhaps earlier start)
      Shop address: 12-13 Market Street, Cambridge CB2 3PA

      Saturday 13th October
      Signing, venue in London to be announced



      ClogPost 3 -- LANDS OF MY EIGHTFATHERS (Part Two)

      First Clog: "We wuz robbed"
      The journey so far:
      Breakdowns 7
      Beers consumed 133
      Substandard lodgings 2
      Highway robberies 1 (if you don't count what we were charged for our
      overnight stay in Burnt Hedge)

      We got rid of Rudney! Not until almost at Slake, but I wanted to start
      this post on an up-note. Naturally, the multiverse has its way of,
      well, let's say there seems to be a law of conservation of
      unpleasantness everywhere, so we were delivered as a replacement one
      Certainty Niblik, a third-year technomancer who's almost as obnoxious
      as the late unlamented Urch. Young Master Niblik, who prefers to be
      known as "Cert", is an improvement in one sense – at least he likes to
      get his hands dirty. Unlike Rudney, whose idea of springing into
      action always consisted of standing just out of working range and
      spouting nonstop monologues about wheel things and suspension things
      and harness things and tool things and methodology things ("...and the
      crenellating wheelbrace, which as we know was invented in 1610 by
      Stirrup Likely, late of Quirm, at the Wayside Forge in Much Mucking at
      four twenty-five on Spune fourteenth..."), our Cert rolls up the
      sleeves of his robe and gets stuck in. Less happily, what he gets
      stuck in to - apart from clotted road-dung - is testing his
      pre-diploma research theories of magickal reconfigurations of
      machinery. This means repairs now take twice as long, but the good
      side is that we now have a suspension that suspends (!!!) and our
      progress is much faster between breakdowns. Yesterday we reached 34mph
      on an uphill slope! Burk and Dennis have been strangely glassy-eyed
      and quiet since then. So have the horses.

      But I'm getting ahead of myself, even without Cert's assistance.
      Continuity, that's the thing...after we left Burnt Hedge, we struck
      out across the Middling Wastes, a desolate mountainous borderland -
      have you ever noticed how the inner parts of the continent seem to be
      made up of nothing but desolate mountainous borderlands? - that
      includes the fiercely independent Un-Confederation of Litigia. Litigia
      is a proud and ancient land (lots of those around here, too; why is it
      that countries and tribes are never modest and ancient, hmm?)
      traditionally ruled by a Bandit King - the tradition being that the
      most successful bandit gets to be King; rather like ordinary royalty,
      except with no messy family genealogies to clutter up the line of
      succession. Litigian bandits are notable for their high standard of
      legal education (I suppose it balances their low standard of legal
      behaviour) - they may rob and pillage like other bandits, but they're
      the only wandering highway robbers outside Ankh-Morpork who present
      you with itemised receipts (capital acquisitions, pillage depreciation
      allowance, crossbow maintenance deductions...) and who resort to legal
      harassment of uncooperative victims. Travellers offering armed
      resistance, or publicly claiming ill-treatment, are liable to be
      served at the next border town with a summons for a Defamation of
      Character suit!

      The current Bandit King of Litigia (yes, of course we met the Bandit
      King. A swordpoint. Litigian kings believe in the hands-on approach to
      reigning. And much brandishing of swords. You can't beat Litigian
      bandits for a good brandish) is an imposing (well, he certainly
      imposed on us) gentleman (note careful lawsuit-avoiding phrasing here)
      by the name of Hans Sallow. Big in all directions, with an even bigger
      moustache and old-fashioned courtly turns of speech (think of an
      amorous walrus) and an accent that even my accent-sensitive ear can't
      quite place, he came to power only a few years ago but has a lot of
      influence on the local style of banditing...apparently he used to be a
      smuggler and is converting the Litigians to non-violent fraud, but
      still leads raiding parties to, you know, keep his image up (I later
      discovered that Hans Sallow may not be his real name - some say he
      used to call himself Mudd. That sounds Morporkian, but the
      accent...hmm...Cert - after we told him the story of our mishap and
      described King Hans - said it sounds like he drifted in from some
      other reality through a wormhole in the space-time continuinuinuum.
      All I can say is, it must have been a really big worm).

      We were ambushed only a few hours out of Burnt Hedge. Right after a
      breakdown, too - if only the bandits had come along thirty minutes
      earlier, they wouldn't have had to chase us, bad luck for them. So
      after they did the surrounding-the-cart thing and the
      stand-and-deliver thing (I've always thought that "stand and deliver!"
      sounds like a rather curious midwifing method, dreadfully intimidating
      one at that) and the show-us-your-valuables thing, and after we'd done
      the meekly complying thing, and after Rumbustia had done the
      "ooh-you-bandits-are-so-firm-and-manly" thing (and yes, King Hans
      actually said the "Oi-loikes-a-girl-with-spirit" thing) and Papa
      Verdant had to physically restrain her from running off with the
      bandits, they decided our valuables weren't valuable enough and that
      we had to also hand over one of our party to be trained up as a
      slave-cum-apprentice-bandit. We went into a huddle, held the shortest
      consultation in the history of besieged travelling companions, and
      offered him Rudney by unanimous vote (Rudney voted no, but his vote
      doesn't count.). They would've probably taken my lute, but that's the
      nice thing about having a sapient pearwood travelling-case - it hops
      out and runs off to safety at the first sign of danger and doesn't
      come back until the all-clear.

      Honour and tradition satisfied, receipt issued, we were allowed to go
      on our way, safe in the knowledge that we were "the best behaved
      victims in months". And so it was farewell Rudders - the last we heard
      of him, as he faded into the distance, was an ever fainter lecture
      about how the mountain ambush was invented by General Tacticus during
      the War of the Lost Kebab. I hope those bandits suffer as much as we have.

      Here endeth this post.


      Second Clog: "Untitled"

      V. stressed. Hurried. Dictating in shortmouth again. In U'wald now,
      turns out Elena should've taken mountain air for longer. We were
      chased by werewolves. V. angry werewolves. Also chased by wolf-type
      wolves, poss. yennorks. Also chased by flock of angry bats. Also
      chased by angry villagers w/ flaming pitchforks & some angry baron's
      angry mercenaries. Escaped, thx to Cert's cart mods, 1 mod last-second
      w/him hanging on back of cart tweaking stuff, nearly ended up w/dead
      Cert. Haha, dead Cert. Tired. Made inn in Bonk suburbs, not chased by
      barmaids. Sleep now!

      End of Part 2 -- continued on Part 3 of 6
      If you did not get all six parts, write: jschaum111@...
      Copyright (c) 2007 by Klatchian Foreign Legion
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