He came out of nowhere... a simple street artisan with a sock and a dream. But who is the enigmatic character? What motivates him to act as he does? This reporter went undercover to the little Lancre village where Sokkard was born, to Dish The Dirt on everyone's favourite muckraker.
Sokkard was born Derek Shoe, son of Mavis and Steven shoe, on a snowy evening in February when the Lancre Morris Men were beating each other soundly with wooden sticks in the name of entertainment.
From an otherwise uneventful childhood, one particularly relevant anecdote relating to his treatment of friends was detailed. For the purposes of anonynimity, I will refer to the whistleblower as C. Bestiality.
No... wait. That's too obvious. Carter B.
Me: So, tell me about this incident?
Carter B: Well, Derek was always a little headstrong. 'e never realised that
people took him seriously.
Me: Uh-huh.
Carter B: 'e used to make up stories about us. All of us... sometimes they were
true, sometimes they were false. Most of the time he just seemed to make stuff
up... but it was mostly true.
Me: Uh-huh.
Carter B: Anyway, he made up a story about a girl who lived in another village.
A simple gal, she was... din't have much between her ears... was more famed
for what was between her leg... ah... more she were more famed for her other
charms.
Me: Uh-huh.
Carter B: Anyway, Derek made up a story about 'ow I'd been seen samplin' her
wares and got her up the duff. Me ma went madand gave me a good whopping with
her broom handle, then pa gave me a good beating with his stick.
Me: Uh-huh.
Carter B: So when me bruises had healed and the bones knitted, me an' me brothers
went to pay Derek a visit...
Me: Uh-huh.
Carter B: We found him in one of the barnyards... naked as a jaybird, wearing
a sock about his pen... person.
Me: Oh my.
Carter B: He didn't see us coming, but we saw him.
Me: Ewww.
Carter B: When 'e turned around and saw us standing there', our sticks just
hanging by our sides and our jaws flapping in the breeze, 'e ran off, and we
never 'eard from him again.
The trail of Sokkard's shame led us through a large segment of the Disc. He
stayed for a while in Pseudopolis, writing satirical songs about nobles in the
city. Eventually one nobleman, having lost his position due to Sokkard's scandalous
stories, challenged him to a duel to the death. Sokkard never showed up for
that duel, and was never seen inside the city again.
We next hear from him in the Ramtops town of Ohulan Cutash, where he would sit in the bushes outside Hilta Goatfounder's stall and spread stories about all who purchased her... special goods. He made the mistake of spreading a story about a tall, stern looking woman in black who visited the stall with a young girl. By the time she found out about the story, Sokkard had passed Skund Forest and was still accelerating.
Which brings us to Ankh Morpork, the current home of Sokkard. A city of such wonderous delights and delicious depravity proved to be just the melting pot of rumour and speculation Sokkard needed to truly practise his art. His spy network within the city is truly exceptional... even the Patrician listens to his stories on a regular basis, making notes of names, places, times and actions.
His stories have been responsible for many watershed incidents in Ankh-Morpork's history. The banishment of at least two prominent citizens has been linked conclusively to Sokkard's stories. His influence spreads beyond the city... even mighty creators have fallen because of his sharp wit. It is certainly not proven yet, but whispers in certain corners of the city suggest that the disappearance of both Algorin and Griffith Cwlyd is due to Sokkard linking their activities to enemies of Cyrosophrase...
Although I tried to contact Sokkard about this article, he refused to speak to me on the grounds that I was an obvious muckracker and that my journalistic integrity was impaired. Although offended, I respect his wishes and simply pass on this last story as an afterthought:
The story begins on a warm Grune day when the Head of the Assassin' Guild was making a killing on the stock exchange. Well, rumour has it that Sokkard and Ilik were seen in the Mended Drum, naked as jaybirds in the company of Pin and Tulip. Well, Pin and Tulip smeared second-hand snot into the face of Ilik, and it all went downhill from there. Pretty soon, six frogs lay with their virtue compromised and the whole she-bang was nailed up in an old packing crate and dumped on the Ankh.
So long,
A Nony Mouse.