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The war between the dwarfs and the trolls was a battle of natural forces, like the war between the wind and the waves. It had a momentum of its own.

It's origins are hidden in the mists surrounding the mythical Koom Valley, a place where each side is accusing the other of treacherous ambush, but its recent manifestation has moved to Ankh-Morpork, courtesy of the city's new policies of welcoming immigrants.

Pretty soon some people will be saying: Who let all these dwarfs in here? They undermine our city and they don't obey our laws. And the trolls? We used to chain 'em up like guard dogs, and now they're allowed to walk around threatening real people.

Recent events (Dallas Police killings 2016, Brexit) make this Discworld book published in 2005 almost prescient. Ankh-Morpork is a city about to explode into racial violence after the murder of a dwarf fundamentalist leader by an alleged troll intruder. All of this taking place on the eve of the Battle of Koom Valley anniversary.

Young dwarfs listened to him, because he talked of history and destiny and all the other words that always got trotted out to put a gloss on slaughter. It was heady stuff, except that brains weren't involved. Malign idiots like him were the reason you saw dwarfs walking around now not just with the 'cultural' battle-axes but heavy mail, chains, morning stars, broadswords ... all the dumb, in-your-face swaggering that was known as 'clang'.
Trolls listened, too. You saw more lichen, more clan graffiti, more body carving, and much, much bigger clubs being dragged around.

Malign idiots (Trump?) are pushing the street gangs of trolls and dwarfs towards open violence but Ankh-Morpork has something that we in the real world are sorely missing: a real hero, a man of principle and integrity, a man of common sense and common decency who would not stand back and allow his city to crumble into dust around him, a man even the leaders of the crime underwold in Ankh-Morpork are turning to when the going gets rough. Here is Chrysophrase the troll drug dealer in a scene reminiscent of The Godfather:

An' den I hear my ol' friend Mister Vimes is on der case and I am thinkin', dat Mister Vimes, he may be very insensitive to de nu-unces of troll culture sometimes, but der man is straight as a arrow and der are on him no flies. [...] But der name Vimes ... dat name means a lot. Can't be bribed, he once arrested the Patrician, not der sharpest knife in the drawer but honest like anything and he don't stop digging.

Sam Vimes is rapidly becoming my favorite character in the whole Discworld series and I would vote for him for President in an eye-blink. Sam wouldn't want the job though. He belongs to the City Watch, has dedicated his life to Law and Order and he believes politics stinks.

Politics, courtesy of the Lord Vetinary, is saddling Vimes with a new positive-action recruit representing a hated minority and with an internal audit of the Watch expense accounts. To complicate matters even more, Sam Vimes has to comply with Lady Sybill's request that he sits to have his portrait painted and has to learn to deal with new technology in the form of his Dis-Organizer Mark Five, the Gooseberry TM. . It makes for a busy daily schedule that somehow has to leave a window for the most important thing of all: Sam's six o'clock sharp meeting with his son:

Young Sam was standing up in his cot, watching the door. Vimes's day went soft and pink.

Thud is at its most basic a crime story, with Sam Vimes cast in a Sam Spade type of role and the theme of ethnic war fueled by xenophobia and demagoguery make it a bone-chilling experience. Sir Terry Pratchett though manages to find the humorous side of even the darkest corners of our social conscience, and old characters mix with the new recruits to produce yet another memorable Discworld journey.

Everyone starts on the street. And on the Night Watch, too. Good training. The best there is. A week of rainy nights with the mists coming up and the water trickling down your neck and odd noises in the shadows ... well, that's when we find out if we've got a real copper.

Salacia Deloresista Amanita Trigestatra Zeldana Malifee ... von Humpeding is one of these new recruits. She's a vampire, and a girl, and the traditional racial enemy of werewolves, but Vimes must include her in his team. Sally, as she likes to be known, will ultimately prove to be a valuable member of the City Watch, especially after she makes a guarded pact with her shapechanging Sergeant Angua and with Cheery, the bearded dwarf lady at the Watch reception desk. Their girls' night out in the company of Tawneee, the six foot exotic dancer from the "Girls, Giggles and Garters" night club (the new flame of Corporal Nobby), is as wild as you can expect from this interracial mix:

"We've struck a blow for womanhood, Sally declared loudly. Shoes, men, coffins ... never accept the first one you see."

Similar hidden depths are revealed also by Mr. Pessimal, the mousy auditor nitpicking the receipts of Guard expenses, and by Willikins, the butler at Lady Sybill and Sam's mansion, a useful man to have around if (view spoiler)[ you are at the receiving end of a dwarf terrorist cell attack. (hide spoiler)]

The clues of the case vary from the gruesome and heartbreaking discovery of new bodies in the illicit mining works the dwarfs are digging under Ankh-Morpork to the quirky references to new-age mumbo-jumbo:

- Do you believe in the healing power of crystals, young man? snapped the woman, raising the club threateningly. [...] You're not a rock hound yourself, Commander?
- I've had the occasional stone thrown at me, said Vimes. I've never bothered to check what kind it was.

Some of the old charm of early Discworld novels can be still found in this more thoughtful and sharp satire in brief sparkles of irreverent fun:

- I'm in deep copro, right? he said.
- Certainly we need to talk to you, said Carrot. Do you want a lawyer?
- No, I ate already.

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No one read the reports. They appear to be what we in the trade call write-only documents.

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The major tonality of the story remains though one that should give us pause and make us reflect on where do we position ourselves on the issues of the day:

What kind of creature defines itself by hatred?

What kind of human creates his own policeman?
One who fears the dark.

Sam Vimes does his duty not because he gets paid, or because he has sworn some oath or because he is an Ankh-Morpork patriot. He does it because he has to live with himself when he looks in the mirror in the morning while shaving. He does it because he knows there is a darkness inside each of us that must not be allowed to get out and roam free.

Beating people up in little rooms ... he knew where that led. And if you did it for a good reason, you'd do it for a bad one. You couldn't say "we're the good guys" and do bad-guy things. Sometimes the watching watch-man inside every good copper's head could use an extra pair of eyes.

Sam Vimes is an inspiration and a role model to his Watch and to his wards in the city. In Discworld it is still possible to have a chance to turn back the tide of hatred. A dwarf and a troll join Vimes in the search for a solution to the old Koom Valley dillema.

Grag (means prophet or shaman in the dwarf culture) Bashfullson rejects the old ways of intransigence: "Some of us move on, sir. Some of us think that darkness isn't a depth, it's a state of mind."

Mr Shine, the troll legendary diamond ancestor, says we must start with ourselves if we want change: "And thus we wear down mountains. Water dripping on stone, dissolving and removing. Changing the shape of the world, one drop at a time. Water dripping on a stone, Commander. Water flowing underground, bubbling up in unexpected places."

Between them they might redirect the violent streak of their people to a game of Thud , giving a new interpretation to the title of the novel:

This is Thud, Mister Vimes, he said, as little stone figures bounced over the board. Dwarfs versus trolls. Eight trolls and thirty-two dwarfs, forever fighting their battles on a cardboard Koom Valley.

I have tried to leave out the practical details of the investigation and the final outcome, focusing instead on the setting and on the main characters involved. I saved the best for last, the most important thing in life and the deciding factor in Sam Vimes' resolution of the case:

This was the book of books, the greatest story ever told. Vimes didn't need to read it anymore. He knew it by heart.
It was called "Where's my Cow?"
The un-identified complainant has lost their cow. That was the story, really.