Bit of a side story involving my OC, Derek Find. Didn 't feel it fit into my main story about him, as he's not the main character.

Discworld is Copyright, right of passage and Rite of AshkEnte, Terry Pratchett.

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I rock back on my heels and breath a slow sigh of boredom. Why must I always be the one to take third shift? It's not like Vicks and Hardy ever pull extra duty. Then again, they just leave whenever they like. Why they're still employed, I'll never know.

A sudden noise wakes me up and turns me sharply to the right. Breaking glass! I grab the hammer at my belt, bang the gong beside me three times, then take off at a run for the location. Must be a thief; assassins know better than to make that much noise. Better have his license out, or he's a dead man.
As I reach the broken window, I hear shouts and running feet behind me. Well, at least I know that the others were awake this time! I turn to them, pointing at the glass...

Crap. Who are these people?! Fast as I can I raise my hammer, but it's knocked from my hand! I duck and swing my lantern at the nearest figure. It connects with a smash, covering him with burning lamp oil! He staggers back screaming, but three more take his place, bearing weapons and grinning evilly.Just as I'm about to try for the legs of the man in front, he gets a funny look on his face and reaches for his throat before his legs give out.(1) The others back off and stare wildly into the darkness. The second man gives a grunt of pain and drops his sword, an arrow sticking out of his arm. I grab his sword and regain my feet, but it looks like the fight is over. Four men step out of the shadows, weapons ready. The man in the lead has a bow in one hand and a nasty looking axe in the other; the others are armed with broadswords and chains. "Were these fellows giving you trouble?"

I blink. "Uh, yes." I think a moment. "One of them is still inside"
Without taking his eyes off of the last standing men, he nods at two of the others, who fade back into the shadows. He walks forward into the light, and I see his face for the first time.
His face is an odd tracework of scars, and one part of his face seems a bit of a different shade from the others; quite a sight. He stalks up to the last man, who starts to bring up his weapon.

"Drop it." The scarred man indicates the waiting others. "Now."

The man hurredly drops his sword, and raises his hands. "No weapons, see? I surrender."

"Good." Without hesitation, the man's axe bites into his throat. He drops, gurgling.

The scarred man turns to me. "He should have seen us before his current project. This could have been avoided." A scream comes from the house. He shakes his head. "Please let your master know that a Guild glazier will be by in the morning to repair his window. As a fully paid customer, he is entitled to our full services." He nods at me, and withdraws. Just then, I notice that the bodies are gone.
A minute later, my backup arrives. "Where the Hells were you?!" I shout angrily. "The Thieves Guild enforcers beat us to the collar again! Do you WANT to get fired"

1) Probably because of the arrowhead protruding from it.