Arthur Hughes PhyllisFranz Marc Zwei KatzenFranz Marc yellow cowFranz Marc Tiger
Susan had no difficulty in spotting Imp y Celyn. He was at the front of the stage, his face a mask of terror. Behind him was a troll, withcapable of doing so. It was more fun watching people dodge.
A big, red‑bearded man grinned at Lias, and selected a small throwing axe from his bandolier. It was OK to throw axes at trolls. They tended to bounce off.
Susan could see it all. It'd bounce off, and hit Imp. No‑one's fault, really. Worse things happened at sea. Worse things happened in Ankh‑Morpork all the time, often continuously. a dwarf trying to hide behind it.She glanced at the hourglass. Just a few more seconds . . .He was really rather attractive, in a dark, curlyheaded sort of way. He looked a little elvish.And familiar.She'd felt sorry for Volf, but at least he was on a battlefield. Imp was on a stage. You didn't expect to die on stage.I'm standing here with a scythe and an hourglass waiting for someone to die. He's not much older than me and I'm not supposed to do anything about it. That's silly. And I'm sure I've seen him . . . before . . .No‑one actually tried to kill musicians in the Drum. Axes were thrown and crossbows fired in a goodhumoured, easy‑going way. No‑one really aimed, even if they were
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