There was a flash of light. William spun around.
A… thing occupied the doorway. There was a tripod. There were a pair of skinny, black-clad legs behind it and a large black box on top of it. One black-clad arm extended out from behind the box and was holding a sort of small hod, which was smoking.
“Nice vun,” said a voice from behind the box. “The light vas shinink so good off the dvarf’s helmet, I could not resist it. You vanted an iconographer? My name is Otto Chriek.”
“Oh. Yes?” said Sacharissa. “Are you any good?”
“I am a vizard in zer darkroom. I am experimenting all the time,” said Otto Chriek. “And I have all my own equipment and also a keen and positive attitude!”
“Sacharissa!” hissed William urgently.
“We could probably start you at a dollar a day–”
“He’s a vampire!”
“I object most stronkly,” said the hidden Otto. “It is such an easy assumption to believe that everyvun with an Uberwald accent is a vampire, is it not? There are many thousands of people from Uberwald who are not vampires!”
William waved his hand aimlessly, trying to shrug off the embarrassment.
“All right, I’m sorry, but–”
“I am a vampire, as it happens,” Otto went on. “But if I had said, ‘Hello my cheeky cock sparrow mate old boy by crikey,’ what vould you have said zen, eh?”
– the introduction of Otto Chriek |
Terry Pratchett, The Truth