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The ninth floor. Nine armies, each led by rich and powerful aliens from across the galaxy. Each team has one objective: to capture and hold the castle at the very center of the battlefield. Strategy, alliances, pitched battles, and, of course, betrayal ... It all makes for great fun and even greater television. After all, none of these powerful aliens really die when they’re playing war. Except this time. This time, winner takes all. Those who fall, stay in the ground.

Jim, the Mayor of Noobtown, journeys to the depths of Ordinal in search of Jarra before he prepares for war against the Dark Overlord. He is doing his best, but outside forces keep getting in his way. Between playing politics, the increasing difficulty of avoiding the admins, and building an army, does Jim even have time to formulate a plan for victory?

Corin Cadence has been summoned to meet with the Emerald Council, a political summit including the most powerful of all attuned and their closest political allies.

A pantheon of forgotten gods. An old grudge between a talk show host, an heiress, and the man they shattered along the way. A rapidly deteriorating AI system. An inconvenient tiara upon the head of a friend.

When the apocalypse comes, a mysterious entity grants Theo Spencer the gift of reincarnation. The gift of a quiet life as an alchemist. He awakens in a small town in the southern reaches of a small kingdom in a non-human body. Broken Tusk doesn't seem like much, but his legendary alchemy skills will soon turn their fortune.

A [Mage] team from Wistram Academy is dogging Pisces, Ceria, Ksmvr, and Yvlon's steps, with revenge in mind. However, adventurers must work, and the Horns have been called on as security for an ambitious project: building a road past the Bloodfields towards the rest of southern Izril. There is more to the world than just Liscor, however. Players of Celum are coming to Invrisil with a splash. There are [Knights] from Terandria roaming around Izril after their battle with the Witch of Webs, and they have heard tell of a mysterious slayer of Goblins.

Everybody knows there's no such thing as a female wizard. So when the wizard Drum Billet accidentally passes on his staff of power to an eighth daughter of an eighth son, a girl called Eskarina (Esk, for short), the misogynistic world of wizardry wants nothing to do with her.

The Discworld is in danger, heading towards a seemingly inevitable collision with a malevolent red star, its magic fading. It needs a hero, and fast. What it doesn't need is Rincewind, an inept and cowardly wizard who is still recovering from the trauma of falling off the edge of the world. Or Twoflower, the well-meaning tourist whose luggage has a mind (and legs) of its own.

With the portal to Elyndor a constant nagging worry in the back of Daryl's mind, as well as the fallout of his confrontation with Boulder looming over his head, life isn't as cozy as it could be. Thankfully, he has Koko, Poppi, Moppi, Katanica, and Susie to help him relieve some stress. But in volume two, the plot thickens, the lore deepens, and Daryl's world opens up to an adventure and a power struggle he never expected. Action, romance, magic, danger, and lots of greenskinned women—everything a man wants in a story...You'll find it all here.

The Wind Runner is visiting Riverfarm, and Emperor Laken Godart couldn't be happier. Summer has arrived on Izril, and with it, trouble is brewing. The prosperity of the Unseen Empire has brought both enemies and unlikely allies to the north. A coven has descended upon Riverfarm, seeking a grand bargain with the [Emperor].

The Wandering Inn has a princess who solves problems rather than creates them, and her name is Lyonette. Yet what happens when the innkeeper returns to manage her inn? Lyonette must learn to be a good employee rather than manage everything herself, and sharing power is never easy.... Nor is it ever simple in war, but that is where Geneva Scala remains. In bloodier and increasingly brutal battlefields, The Last Light of Baleros is now growing in fame, but there is no future there.

An exclusive collection of twenty early short stories by one of the world's best loved authors, these are rediscovered tales that Pratchett wrote under a pseudonym for newspapers during the 1970s and 1980s. Whilst none of the stories are set in the Discworld, they hint towards the world he would go on to create in his award-winning and globally bestselling series, containing all of his trademark wit, satirical wisdom and fantastic imagination. These are tales which entertain, enlighten and, most importantly, make you laugh.

According to The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (the world's only completely accurate book of prophecies, written in 1655, before she exploded), the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact. Just before dinner. So, the armies of Good and Evil are amassing, Atlantis is rising, frogs are falling, tempers are flaring. Everything appears to be going according to Divine Plan.

A lush jungle teeming with danger. Savage dinosaurs seeking blood. A fallen princess intent on vengeance. A mysterious, end-of-floor celebration for the top crawlers, dubbed “The Butcher’s Masquerade”. The sixth floor. The Hunting Grounds. As the remaining crawlers battle for their lives, a new, terrible threat looms. Outside, tourists are finally allowed to enter the game, and they are here and ready to hunt. Among them is Vrah, a famed and veteran hunter, intent on collecting the biggest trophy of her career.

The City Watch needs men! But what it's got includes Corporal Carrot (technically a dwarf), Lance-Constable Cuddy (really a dwarf), Lance-Constable Detritus (a troll), Lance-Constable Angua (a woman...most of the time) and Corporal Nobbs (disqualified from the human race for shoving). And they need all the help they can get, because someone in Ankh-Morpork has been getting dangerous ideas - about crowns and legendary swords and destiny.

For a policeman, there can be few things worse than a serial killer loose in your city. Except, perhaps, a serial killer who targets coppers, and a city on the brink of bloody revolution. For Commander Sam Vimes, it all feels horribly familiar. Caught on the roof of a very magical building during a storm, he's found himself back in his own rough, tough past without even the clothes he was standing up in when the lightning struck. Living in the past is hard, especially when your time travel companion is a serial killer who knows where you live.

For Commander Vimes, Head of Ankh-Morpork City Watch, life consists of troubling times, linked together by...well, more troubling times. Right now, it's the latter. There's a werewolf with pre-lunar tension in the city and a dwarf with attitude and a golem who's begun to think for itself, but that's just ordinary trouble. The real problem is more puzzling - people are being murdered, but there's no trace of anything alive having been at the crime scene.

Fischer has everything he needs in life: blossoming friendships, a menagerie of cute animal companions, a waterfront property with easy access to fishing, and enough coffee to take out a small elephant or a really big dog. Unfortunately, Fischer can’t catch a break. Cosmic forces? Still throwing curveballs. The bigwigs in the capital? Starting to sniff around his business. Cults? Still culting. Plus, awakened beings are washing up on his shores like flotsam after a storm. And worst of all? His coffee guy ghosted him!

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a policeman taking a holiday would barely have had time to open his suitcase before he finds his first corpse. Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch is on holiday in the pleasant and innocent countryside, but not for him a mere body in the wardrobe. There are many, many bodies - and an ancient crime more terrible than murder. He is out of his jurisdiction, out of his depth, out of bacon sandwiches; and out of his mind. But never out of guile. Where there is a crime there must be a punishment.

When the neighbours in question are the proud empires of Klatch and Ankh-Morpork, those are going to be some pretty large garden tools indeed. Of course, no-one would dream of starting a war without a perfectly good reason...such as a 'strategic' piece of old rock in the middle of nowhere. It is after all every citizen's right to bear arms to defend their own. Even if it isn't technically their own. And even if they don't have much in the way of actual weaponry.