#anghammarad

[dandeidolon]

anghammarad

[pratchettquotes]

Flames died. Sound died. Light died.

ANGHAMMARAD.

Anghammarad looked at his hands. There was nothing there except heat, furnace heat, blasting heat that nevertheless made the shapes of fingers.

ANGHAMMARAD, a hollow voice repeated.

"I Have Lost My Clay," said the golem.

YES, said Death. THAT IS STANDARD. YOU ARE DEAD. SMASHED. EXPLODED INTO A MILLION PIECES.

"Then Who Is This Doing The Listening?"

EVERYTHING THERE WAS ABOUT YOU THAT ISN'T CLAY.

"Do You Have A Command For Me?" said the remains of Anghammarad, standing up.

NOT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE PLACE WHERE THERE ARE NO MORE ORDERS.

"What Shall I Do?"

I BELIEVE YOU HAVE FAILED TO UNDERSTAND MY LAST COMMENT.

Anghammarad sat down again. Apart from the fact that there was sand rather than ooze underfoot, this place reminded him of the abyssal plane.

GENERALLY PEOPLE LIKE TO MOVE ON, Death hinted. THEY LOOK FORWARD TO AN AFTERLIFE.

"I Will Stay Here, Please."

HERE? THERE'S NOTHING TO DO HERE, said Death.

"Yes, I Know," said the ghost of the golem. "It Is Perfect. I Am Free."

Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

[vectorofsins]

Ooktober 24 - Glom of Nit

[grimviolin]

GENERALLY PEOPLE LIKE TO MOVE ON, Death hinted. THEY LOOK FORWARD TO AN AFTERLIFE. “I Will Stay Here, Please.” HERE? THERE’S NOTHING TO DO HERE, said Death. “Yes, I Know,” said the ghost of the golem. “It Is Perfect. I Am Free.”

Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

[leo-fie]

Currently reading my first Terry Pratchett novel, Going Postal.

I'm sorry, I was promised a whimsical fantasy novel with strong character writing and world building, that is above all funny.

And here I am crying my eyes out for a golem that believed the world was a donut.

[luffysfakebeard]

not Anghammarad 😭😭😭

[discworldtour]

Anghammarad sat down again. Apart from the fact that there was sand rather than ooze underfoot, this place reminded him of the abyssal plain. GENERALLY PEOPLE LIKE TO MOVE ON, Death hinted. THEY LOOK FORWARD TO AN AFTERLIFE. “I Will Stay Here, Please.” HERE? THERE’S NOTHING TO DO HERE,” said Death. “Yes, I Know,” said the ghost of the golem. “It Is Perfect. I Am Free.”

-- Anghammarad finds the place of respite | Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

[discworldtour]

“I Was A Messenger,” Anghammarad rumbled. His voice was not like Mr. Pump’s, and neither was his clay. He looked like a crude jigsaw puzzle of different clays, from almost black through red to light grey. Anghammarad’s eyes, unlike the furnace gow of those of the other golems, burned a deep ruby red. He looked old. More than that, he felt old. The chill of time radiated off him. On one arm, just above the elbow, was a metal box on a corroded band that had stained the clay. “Running errands, eh?” said Groat nervously. “Most Recently I Delivered The Decrees Of King Het Of Thut,” said Anghammarad. “Never heard of any King Het,” said Jimmy Tropes. “I Expect That Is Because The Land Of Thut Slid Under The Sea Nine Thousand Years Ago,” said the golem solemnly. “So It Goes.” “Blimey! You’re nine thousand years old?” said Groat. “No. I Am Almost Nineteen Thousand Years Old, Having Been Born In The Fire By The Priests Of Upsa In The Third Ning Of The Shaving Of The Goat. They Gave Me A Voice That I Might Carry Messages. Of Such Things Is The World Made.”

-- on Anghammarad | Terry Pratchett, Going Postal