Hello! First Disc story, not to mention my first writing in about 11 years.

It's a story about an original character. Dietrich is my creation. The rest of the Disc and the vast majority of its inhabitants are (OMG DISCLAIMER!) the property of Terry Pratchett. I am planning to keep it going if possible from here, as soon as I have hashed out more of the plot. The character seems to be taking over the story; this usually turns out well when I can get it to happen, so I hope you enjoy it too.

Please read and review!

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This is just one of Those stories. It is about a boy.

Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl, boy catches girl and professes undying love.

Girl laughs. Girl turns into wolf and mauls boy, then slaughters boy's family before boy beats girl to death with a silver candlestick.

Well, maybe not quite one of Those stories.

This story, now not quite one of Those, does take place on one of Those worlds.

In fact, That world.

It is a world which rides probability to the far edge of the bell-curve, then with a whoop, leaps into hyperspace.

It skims through the void like a dish hurled by an angry god, or an angrier wife. Its bearers, four stellar elephants and the enormous star-turtle A'Tuin, seemingly along for the ride.

This is definitely not the case.

It is the story-ridden magical Disc that is the passenger.

Look closer...

Focus on the continent surrounding the Hub. Some ways out lies the nebulously-bordered country known as Uberwald. It is deep in this forested fastness that our story has already begun. Fifteen years ago...

Pain. All over. Can't move. Got to stop...

Dietrich von Baumsucher tried to open his eyes. That was a mistake. "Aiiiaahh!" He shut his eyes tightly and whimpered, though it didn't lessen the pain a bit.

He heard the telltale voice of an Igor. Specifically, the Igor who worked for the sawmill in town. "Ah, you are awake, young marther. Good. I wath wondering if that liver would work; it thertainly wath a while before we could find it. Oh, it might be a good idea to let your new eye heal a bit before using it."

"What-" he managed to croak, "How-." He lapsed into silence, then tried again. "Why- tied- ?"

"Well, young marther, it wath a bit touch and go. One reason we applied the restrainth ith the... delicathy of the operathionth. We usthually would not try them on anyone not an Igor, but we had thome luck there."

"what - What-"

"It'th the other reathon you're thecured, young marther. The retht of your family wath too far gone when we arrived. Your replathement parts came from them, mothtly. Your farther would have been - "

Dietrich had stopped listening. With a great heave, he sought to loose his bonds, and was rewarded with a horrible deep pain throughout his chest and arms. As his conciousness faded, he heard the Igor sigh and say, "I feel your loth, I really do, young marther. But we must give the bones and new muthcle time to knit together. Thleep now..."