In a distant
and second-hand set of dimensions,
through wavering star mists,
see the Great A 'Tuin.
Drifting onwards through space
atop the shell of the great turtle
are four giant elephants,
upon whose broad shoulders
rests the Discworld.
For the people on the Disc,
the turtle was a mere hypothesis,
untiI one day, the island kingdom of Krull,
whose rim-most mountains
project over the rim fall,
lowered over the edge a brass vesseI
containing severaI astrozoologists.
Their mission did indeed prove
the existence of the turtle.
Unfortunately,
owing to a minor malfunction,
they were unable to answer
an even more fundamentaI question.
What is the sex of the turtle?
The remaining astrozoologists
are never short of a question.
Why does it matter?
So we're gonna look at a turtle's bottom?
- That won't be very nice, will it?
- No.
Since the failure of the last mission,
this vital question
cannot possibly be answered
without sending a new expedition
over the edge of the Disc
in this.
It's a bit small.
It will be somewhat bigger.
Yeah, but where in the world
are you gonna find someone
stupid enough to go in that?
SeveraI thousand miles
hubwards from the rim,
in Ankh Morpork, the Disc's oldest city,
the ship arriving in its dock
is carrying Twoflower,
the Discworld's first tourist.
He is looking forward
to all its sights and smells.
And, of course, no tour would be complete
without a visit to the city's
Unseen University for Wizards,
and its famous Tower of Art.
When our story begins,
wizards are not very nice.
Carrying the finaI remains
of one of their number,
the eight heads of the orders of wizardry
have demonstrated
great powers of survivaI, because
behind every wizard of the eighth rank,
there is at least one seventh-rank wizard
trying to bump him off.
Old Rumlet, he never saw it coming,
you know, Trymon.
Well, you know what they say,
Arch Chancellor.
"When a wizard is tired of looking
for broken glass in his dinner,
"he is tired of life. "
I'm just speculating, obviously.
We are gathered here today
to pay our respects to Old Rumlet,
a wizard...
Sorry. Sorry.
I'm not late, am I?
- Who is that?
- Rincewind, Arch Chancellor.
Rincewind?
Oh!
Have him sent to my office in ten minutes.
Oh, get on with it, Weatherwax.
My back's killing me.
Run along, Rincewind.
Oh, yes, sir. Yes, sir.
Oh! Sorry, Narrowbolt.
Mr Rincewind, there are,
as you know, eight levels of wizardry
to which the aspiring young...
To which the student can aspire.
In your not inconsiderable time here
at the Unseen University,
you have failed to reach even level one.
- Ah, yes, but you see...
- What the Arch Chancellor is trying to say
is that, after decades of teaching you,
patience seems not so much a virtue
as a life sentence.
- Oh, yes, but...
- There is simply no room
for your kind of person
in a modern university.
- I feel...
- So you leave the Arch Chancellor
no other course of action but to expel you.
But it's only been 40 years.
The hat.
Goodbye, Mr Rincewind.
In the competitive world
of wizardry,
the way to the top
is via dead men's pointy shoes.
Even if you have to empty them yourself.
Ashburn, Narrowbolt.
- You can't...
- And don't come back!
Now, let me tell you...
Ah, thank you very much.
Deep in its very bowels,
the departure of the Disc's worst wizard
from the Unseen University
has stirred magic.
Good day to thee, sire.
Right.
Goodbye, world.
Disappointing.
"Hello! "
Hello, yourself.
"I wish
"to be directed
"to an hotel
"tavern,
"lodging house in hospice.
- "I wish... "
- I know a tavern.
Ooh!
This way.
Sapient pearwood!
The tourist's luggage
is no ordinary suitcase.
It has absolutely no brain,
and a homicidaI attitude
towards anything
that threatens its master,
and would follow him anywhere.
"I wish
"for an accommodation.
"A room. Lodgings. Are your rooms clean?
A room with a view.
"What is your rate for one night?
What is for breakfast?
"Where are the
"bathrooms?"
He's got plenty money.
Oh, it'll be, um...
Two dollars, then?
Oh, and that thing
has to stay in the stables.
Hmm?
Two!
Two-ah?
Two-ah.
Oh!
Two-ah.
Two-ah.
Um, shower?
- ... shower?
Huh?
It is! Sapient pearwood!
Um...
"... toiletries?" Toilet...
May I be of assistance?
Oh, shove off, Rincewind.
It won't work. It's the book,
you see, it tells him what to say.
It's magic.
Aye!
No!
Oh! Uh...
Ah! So you're a wizard!
And you speak Ankh-Morporkean!
Yes.
I did a correspondence course.
Well, what's all this about, then?
Oh! Well, a tourist should always use
his phrasebook
so that people will know you're one.
Ah! And, um,
is that really your luggage?
Yes. And are you really a wizard?
Hmm? Oh!
Well...
I hear the famous Unseen University
is a must-see.
I was hoping to visit it,
so that when I get back home
I could say that, you know, I did that.
Ah, yeah, well, it's closed.
For the exams.
Oh.
Where is your home?
Ah! Have you heard of Bes Pelargic?
It's the major sea port
of the Agatean Empire.
That's the Counterweight Continent,
isn't it?
Yes.
We may be small,
but we're equal in weight to all the
major land masses of this hemicircle.
Well, that's because the ancient legend...
It says that it's made of gold.
- Well, it's not made of gold.
- No.
No, gold is just
a really common metal there.
You might like
to keep that to ourselves.
Hmm?
On the house.
- Who is he?
- He says he's a tourist.
Ah.
What's that mean, then?
I think it means "idiot. "
Hmm.
Yes.
You are correct in your surmise.
This is, technically, false coinage.
I knew it. Oh, I knew it.
I got a nose for a dud.
What do you mean, "technically"?
Well, you see, our Ankh Morpork coins
contain rather less gold
than a pint of sea water.
I knew it!
But this, my friend, is solid gold.
What? What?
I've gotta get back.
And so, the leaders
of a number of the many gangs, guilds
and collections of other nefarious dirt bags
of Ankh Morpork
were aware that someone
had arrived in the city
who appeared to have much treasure.
Hmm.
Including Ymor, its greatest thief.
So! No guards?
No, why?
What do I have that's worth stealing?
Well, the trunk. I mean, there can't be
more than two very small wands
made of sapient pearwood
in all the cities of the Circle Sea,
let alone a whole box.
That, and the gold.
Barely 2,000 rhinu.
Is a rhinu one of those big gold coins?
Yes.
Do you think
I paid the innkeeper too much?
I think he might have settled for less.
Well, I can see I've got a lot to learn.
- Hmm.
- Hmm.
An idea occurs to me.
Rincewind, would you perhaps consent
to be employed as a, um...
Well, perhaps the word "guide"
would fit the circumstances.
I think I could afford to pay you...
A rhinu a day?
Oh dear, I've offended you.
It was an impertinent request.
Doubtless you have works of high magic
to return to.
One of those a day?
Oh. Well... Two, then?
- What do you want to see?
- I want to see everything.
I mean, genuine Morporkean life.
You know, I want to go to the slave
markets and the whore pits,
the Temple of Small Gods,
the Beggars' Guild,
and a genuine tavern brawl.
Ah! Well...
Oh, no, no, no,
I'm not suggesting we get involved.
- I just wanna see it, that's all.
- Ah.
And some of your famous heroes,
like Cohen the Barbarian.
- Uh...
- You do know him?
Oh, yes! Yes, of course! Yeah!
Good.
So, it's agreed?
- Agreed?
- Excellent!
Be a good chap, would you,
and see to it that the innkeeper
shows my luggage to the room.
And I insist that you take
your first four days' wages
in advance.
Broadman? Luggage, room!
And perhaps
when the exams are finished...
Come on, then!
- ... we could get a peek at the, uh,
Unseen University?
This calls for a picture.
RINCEWIND: All the best wizards have left!
See you, loser!
Relax, Withel. The magic chest
will come back for its owner,
and with it, the gold.
Yes. Yes, yes, we'll just have a peek.
Just look over here, Rincewind, and smile.
Rincewind?
Hi.
Halt!
RINCEWIND: Bugger it!
PATRIClAN: The city gates.
Attempting to leave.
The Patrician,
the ruler of Ankh Morpork,
may not be particularly fair
or even democratic,
but at least, for the first time
in a thousand years, the city works.
This is largely because he knows
where everyone is most of the time,
and which dissuasively
vicious punishment to exact
for whatever they are doing there.
Oath-breaking. The theft of a horse.
Oh, no, my Lord Patrician,
I didn't steal the horse,
I paid for it fairly.
Using false coinage, which is
technically theft, I think, false coinage.
What are we going to do with you,
you little scamp?
Yes.
It's the Arena
for you, Rincewind.
On top of these,
there is the moral obligatory attendant
on the cowardly betrayal
of a visitor to these shores.
Shame on you, Rincewind!
Will you be requiring a sword
or a spear for the Arena?
Of course,
we could be merciful.
Think we should be merciful?
Two rhinu.
One polycee.
Oi! That's my door!
Door's fine.
Why don't you join me, Zlorf?
The Assassins' Guild are our friends.
I've come for the tourist.
I thought we had an agreement.
You don't rob and I don't kill.
I'll kill him,
and then you can rob him.
If anybody's going to kill him,
he'll need to talk to me first.
- But...
- Get those dwarves out of here!
- Oh!
- Oh!
Who the hell are you?
I am Rerpf, and I'm here on behalf
of the Guild of Merchants and Traders
to protect our interests.
Meaning, the little man.
And how long has this Guild
been in existence, may I ask?
Since this afternoon.
I am Vice Guild Master
in charge of tourism.
Oh!
And what is this tourism
of which you speak?
We're not quite sure.
What's a tourist?
Smile!
It's magic!
Now, I want you to listen very carefully
to what I have to say.
Otherwise, you will die,
in an interesting fashion,
over a period.
Please stop fidgeting like that.
The Emperor of the Counterweight
Continent has sent me a letter.
It appears that one of his subjects
has taken it into his head to visit our city.
It appears he wishes to
look at it.
You will continue to be a guide,
Rincewind, to this looker, this
Twoflower.
You will make sure that he returns home
with a good report of our homeland.
What do you say to that? You say, "Yes! "
- I say, "Yes! "
- Yes!
Yes! Thank you, Lord. Thank you. Yeah.
Because it would be a tragedy
should anything
untoward
happen to our visitor.
It would be dreadful if the tourist
were to die, for example.
Because the Emperor looks after his own,
and he could certainly extinguish us
at a nod,
which would be dreadful for you,
Rincewind, because I would hope,
when the Empire's huge
mercenary fleet arrived,
that the avenging captains would find
their anger somewhat tempered
by the fact that my skilled operatives have
just shown you the colour of your liver.
I see by your face
that understanding dawns.
Yes.
Good luck.
Oh, there's one other thing.
I'm sure you wouldn't dream
of trying to escape
from your obligations by, say,
running away.
I assure you, Lord,
that the thought never even
crossed my mind.
Indeed.
Then, if I were you,
I would sue my face for slander.
Don't let me detain you.
Whoa!
You...
All right, all right, all right. I give in.
Whoa!
Excuse me.
Rincewind, you came back!
I knew you would.
I just had to.
It's exciting, isn't it?
A genuine tavern brawl.
It's better than anything
I could have imagined.
Everybody say cheese!
Do you think I should thank them or...
Did you put them up to this?
That's where you were!
Yes, I don't like to mention it.
Hey! Nice throw!
RINCEWIND: We should be leaving.
Yeah!
Um, Ashooni.
Um...
Smile!
Magic!
Uh, it's a collapsing spell.
Come along, we gotta go.
Oh!
- Ah!
That's my luggage.
One more time!
Attaboy!
So, where's Cohen the Barbarian?
Um, he's, uh,
right behind you.
Look, we really ought to be going.
Fantastic! No one at home
is gonna believe this.
All you do is rotate the lever
and the iconograph does the rest.
You wait here.
It's no good. I've run out of red, see.
If you wanted red, you shouldn't
have took all those pictures
of dwarves killing people, should you?
It's monochrome from now on, friend.
- All right?
- Yeah.
That's the picture imp.
Yes, of course it is.
You know, Rincewind,
I'd like to have you in the picture as well.
Smile, please.
Smile. Smile!
What are we
gonna see next?
What a great day!
Ah!
Hmm?
Yeah.
That's my favourite, with Cohen.
What the...
Can you smell oil?
I don't think so.
I'll kill that bloody cat.
Here, take this.
Oh, thanks.
Don't mention it.
Tavern fights are pretty common
around here, no?
Oh, yeah, well, it's practically a sport.
Hmm. So, innkeepers must need a lot of...
Well, in my language,
we call it in-sur-ance.
"In-sewer-ants"?
That's a funny word. What's it mean?
- Well, say you have a tavern built of wood.
- Mmm-hmm.
- Well, it might burn down.
- Hmm.
You don't want that to happen, so you
take out an in-sur-ance poly-cee, see?
And then I work out the odds
against it burning down,
and then add a bit,
and then you pay me some money,
based on those odds.
Oh, no.
But yes.
Well, then if it does burn down,
I pay you the value of the tavern.
Oh, it's a bit like a bet, right?
A wager? Yes, I suppose it is.
Ah!
Are you sure you can't smell oil?
No. I can smell burning.
Did you in-sewer the Drum?
Luckily for Broadman, I still have
the rhinu he paid as his first premium.
You bet Broadman
that it wouldn't catch fire?
Standard valuation, 200 rhinu. Why?
Why do you ask?
Why do I... You... You... You dozy idiot!
Just carry on
as if I'm not here, Rincewind.
Your appointment is later.
What's next?
What's next?
We'll be hung, drawn and quartered
if we stay here much longer!
- But why?
- What do you mean, why? Why? Why?
Look! The whole of Ankh Morpork
is made of wood!
- What about my luggage?
- Bugger your luggage!
Tell you what, whoever started that fire,
it'd be wise for them to find a fast horse
and make themselves very scarce.
Thank you
very much, Twoflower.
It says that Chirm is lovely
this time of year.
Yes, and very, very dangerous.
- Really?
- Mmm.
- Whoa!
- That's the oil bond store going up.
Rincewind!
RINCEWIND: Oh!
Oh, no.
Look at that over there.
Oh, dear God, no.
Oi! Oi, you!
Come back here! That's my horse!
Come back!
Oi! Rincewind!
The Octavo,
greatest of all spell books,
locked and chained deep in the cellars
of the Unseen University.
The spells imprisoned in its pages
lead a secret life of their own.
And Rincewind's departure
from Ankh Morpork
has left them deeply troubled.
HEAD LIBRARIAN: I can't remember
it being like this before.
No.
Not since that time a young wizard...
Oh, dear.
I've expelled him, haven't I?
And nobody knows where he is, Librarian?
Not even the Patrician's palace guard.
Though they seem to think he'll turn up,
for some reason.
Look, he's the only person
in living memory
who has actually touched the Octavo
with his bare hands.
We have no idea the effect
it will have on him in the outside world.
At least when he was a student,
we knew where he was.
Perhaps I've been a bit hasty.
Who else knows about this?
Nobody, Arch Chancellor.
Good. Let's keep it that way, shall we?
Oh. Apart from Greyhald Spold, of course.
Whose days are probably
numbered anyway.
On the subject of which, I haven't seen
old Narrowbolt around recently.
That's because he's dead, Arch Chancellor.
I'm just glad nobody wants to be
Head Librarian.
Perish the thought, Horace.
Oh, I am looking for a book.
New shoes?
And new hat, Mr Trymon.
- Hmm?
- Ah!
Oh, how very neat and tidy.
Did you know
that in the event of the
Arch Chancellor's sad demise,
he would be succeeded by Greyhald Spold?
He's demonstrated
remarkable powers of survival.
Up to now.
I think it's very important
to strive for perfection. Don't you?
Oh, yes, sir. If you want
to get to the very top, sir, yes.
The position of Head Librarian has
never really appealed to you, sir?
No.
Oh, good.
It is quite possible
that the next Arch Chancellor
may well smile upon those
who understand the importance
of things being well organised.
Is everything in order down there?
Oh, absolutely. Oh, everything is in
alphabetical order, in fact.
So, this is the famous Octavo.
- Famous and dangerous.
- How long has it been like this?
Well, it's always been a bit strange
as far back as I can remember.
But, for some reason, it's got rather lively.
Why?
I don't know.
Who does?
Greyhald Spold.
Hmm?
Before my time.
Greyhald Spold. How convenient!
Rincewind?
Twoflower!
Twoflower!
Twoflower!
"Pit of Ultimate Despair. "
"Dread Tower of Darkness. "
Hmm.
"Traveller.
"The Hospitable Temple
of Bel-Shamharoth
"lies a thousand paces hubwards. "
Hubwards.
Huh.
"The Wyrmberg and Palace
of the Dragon Lord
"lies a thousand paces rimwards. "
Huh. Dragons.
I always wanted to see dragons.
Dragons it is.
Rincewind?
Your lifetime is up, Rincewind.
I can't hang around all day.
I can.
What have you done with the tourist?
Nothing.
He was lured by the attraction
of the Wyrmberg.
Oh, so at least the Patrician
won't be sending out his men
to kill me just yet, then, eh?
There is a distinct possibility
that he may not need to.
What are you grinning at? Huh?
Oh, I'm sorry, I can't help it.
Now, would you be so kind as to let go?
It won't hurt.
Getting torn to pieces by wolves
won't hurt?
It will be over very quickly.
And, of course, they are
an endangered species.
RINCEWIND: Oh, good!
Ashoni!
Who are you?
Oh, no!
RINCEWIND: Oh, you!
Oh, dear. I wonder
if it was something I said.
Don't think I owe you a debt of gratitude.
One of the consolations
of being eaten by wolves
was the fact that
I would never have to have
a near-death experience again,
thanks to your owner!
737, 738, 739...
Dragons.
Dragons. 741, 742, 743...
Dragons?
Nobody believes in them any more.
Ha!
I never really wanted
to be Arch Chancellor anyway,
so if you're here for...
For the Octavo, Mr Spold.
You're not here to...
What about the Octavo?
It's rather
troubled
at the moment.
And it seems that you
might be able to tell me why.
Well...
It's not all there, you know.
As in, mad?
As in, one spell short of eight.
One of the eight spells is missing?
Well, that's rather badly organised.
Certainly extremely dangerous.
So, where is it now?
Do think very carefully, Mr Spold.
I really wish I did know,
- Mr Trymon.
- Hmm.
Try breathing through this!
Dark in here, isn't it?
Fire's gone out.
Rincewind! Attaboy!
And you've brought the luggage.
No, it brought me.
It's amazing, isn't it?
Yes, if you like the physically impossible.
Well, I think it's just amazing.
Bit underpopulated, though.
Listen, do you think it could be
the home of the dragons?
- Don't be ridiculous! Dragons don't exist.
- All my life, I've wanted to see dragons.
Huh?
Whoa!
I think that we could...
I don't believe in them! They don't exist!
Psst. Psst!
- Psst!
- No, just dazed, actually.
Who said that?
Well, don't just lie there, pull me out!
What?
Come on, come on, pull me out.
You... You spoke!
I'm a magic sword.
You weren't
born with a mysterious birth mark
- in the shape of a crown, were you?
- Um, no.
No? Oh, just asking.
Were you with the other fellow?
Might have been.
It's just
the, uh, dragons got him,
and so I expect you'll be in a hurry
to slay the dragons
and rescue him
in a fantastic feat of derring-do!
No, not really, no.
Come on!
- Come on!
- Mmm?
Right, take a firm grip.
Ooh, that's good. That's good.
Could be worse.
This could have been an anvil.
Finally!
The dragon's headed hubwards!
Even if they did exist,
I'm not cut out for dragons.
Nothing to it.
I'll show you!
Right, I suggest we start
with the one in the trees.
- Over there.
- Oh!
No, you don't.
You see? There's nothing there.
Oh. Well, you can start
with her instead. Okay?
- Okay?
- I don't know how to be a hero!
No, obviously.
But I propose to teach you.
Look, I'll be frank,
I've worked with far better material
than you, but it's either that
or I'll chop your head off!
- I mean it.
- All right, all right.
Good boy.
There's an ambitious
wizard on the loose.
I think a certain degree of vigilance
would be in order.
Especially if he's talked to Trymon.
- RINCEWIND: Any suggestions?
- Well, obviously, you attack.
RINCEWIND: Oh!
Why didn't I think of that?
Because you're a defeatist.
On your marks,
get set,
go!
Got you! And again!
Ha, ha!
Did I ever tell you about the time
I was thrown into a lake?
Let's have a look at you, madam!
Where is the tourist?
He's been taken back to the Wyrmberg.
What is this Wyrmberg?
The Wyrmberg. It is dragon home.
They don't exist.
But I suppose you'll be wanting
to rescue your friend.
My point precisely.
He's not my friend.
But I suppose you'd better take me
to this Wyrmberg of yours.
There. Listen.
RINCEWIND: I didn't... I didn't know
dragons were see-through!
- LIESSA: Didn't you?
- No!
Then watch him
as we get closer to the Wyrmberg.
RINCEWIND: Oh, no!
That, at least, is very marginally better.
LIESSA: Jump now.
RINCEWIND: What?
Surrender.
Never!
- Um...
Uh, never.
Of course not. He's a hero, isn't he?
I taught him myself.
And what is your name, hero...
- Um...
- ... so that we know who you were?
My name
is
Rincewind of Ankh.
And I am Liessa Dragonlady.
You are to challenge me in mortal combat.
Mmm?
No! No, I can't.
You are mistaken.
Liort, help our hero
into a pair of hog boots.
I'm sure he is anxious to get started.
No, really!
If you are looking after my...
LIESSA: You will see
your friend soon enough.
If you are religious, I mean.
None who enter the Wyrmberg
ever leave again.
Except metaphorically speaking, of course.
Oh! Mr Trymon.
Good day, Arch Chancellor.
Ooh!
New new shoes and hat, huh?
Well, you came to see me.
Yes. I've taken the liberty
of doing a little research.
Ah, about the Octavo, perhaps?
Yes.
It appears that one
of the great spells is missing.
Ah!
And you were wondering,
purely for administrative purposes,
where it might have got to.
Well, yes.
Do you know, Arch Chancellor?
Well, if I did,
I think I've forgotten.
Ah! Oh.
Oh! Old Spold did.
Oh, no. No. Too late. He's already
popped his pointy shoes, hasn't he?
You know,
he always had difficulty breathing,
even before he managed to seal himself
in his own room
from the outside.
Yes. Great shame about Spold.
Just clouds.
Well, I expect this is all some sort
of a misunderstanding.
I expect they'll release me soon.
They seem rather civilised.
And when I get back,
I can tell people that I saw dragons.
Imagine that.
Dragons.
I obey, Lord.
Obey?
Of course, Lord.
Open it?
Huh!
Arch Chancellor?
Arch Chancellor?
Such a great shame.
Um... About?
Spold, you mean? Yes.
- Is that all, Trymon?
- Yes, Arch Chancellor.
Very good. Oh, Trymon,
as you leave, could you tidy
the sprung heavy-axe device
some prankster student
has rigged above my door?
Seems to have
malfunctioned.
I shall have it seen to, Arch Chancellor.
Oh, and I do hope Spold's shoes
are not too small for you.
We fight to the death.
Yours.
RINCEWIND: Ah!
I suppose I ought to warn you
that I have a magic sword.
That's me!
- What a coincidence.
LIESSA'S SWORD: Hello!
Hello!
Oh, no.
Prepare to be defeated.
LIESSA'S SWORD: I don't think so.
I've seen sharper butter knives.
LIESSA'S SWORD: Huh!
Going well, isn't it?
Call yourself
a magic sword? Pah!
LIESSA'S SWORD: Yeah, I do, actually.
Hang on, Rincewind, hang on.
Let go, damn you, or we'll both die.
That's easy for you to say.
Ah!
Why don't you say me?
What have you got to lose?
Is that you?
Does that mean that I'm gonna die?
LIESSA: Let go!
You're a fine-looking dragon,
by the way, even if you did just turn up.
You summoned me, Master.
You have the power.
You mean, I just thought of you
and there you were?
Yes.
But I've thought of dragons all my life.
The power only works near the Wyrmberg.
As the dragons fly further away,
we begin to dwindle and fade.
All Dragonlords have the power,
as, of course, does the Dragonlady Liessa,
who, incidentally,
is trying to hack your friend to pieces
as we speak.
What?
Shoot him!
- SPELL Ashoni.
- Ashoni!
- Ebriate.
- Ebriate!
Oh, no, not you!
Whoo! How was that?
You all right? What's the matter?
Aren't you scared of heights?
No, why should I be?
You're just as dead if you fall
from 40 feet as from 4,000 fathoms,
that's what I say.
It's not the actual falling,
it's more the hitting that worries me.
Do you think dragons
can fly all the way to the stars?
Because now that would be something.
I think you might be mad.
That's where we camped. Oh!
But, I didn't tell you
about the time...
Oh, the sword.
- You all right?
- Oh, yeah.
Come on, now!
Hello! Magic sword here!
If anyone can hear me out there,
what I could do with right now
is someone who doesn't realise
they're an orphan
born in mysterious circumstances.
Ow!
RINCEWIND: Are you all right?
What's happening to the air?
The sky just flew by!
Dragons! Dragons. Think of dragons. Yes.
Think of dragons! Dragon!
Dragon! Dragon!
Dragon!
It won't work.
You don't really believe in them.
RINCEWIND: Dragons!
Meanwhile,
at the very edge of the world,
the Krullians have not given up
on their quest
to determine the sex of the turtle.
Are the chelonauts ready,
launch controller?
Indeed, Arch Astronomer.
How long to the doorway?
The launch window,
Your Prominence.
Twelve hours, when Great A'Tuin's tail
will be in an unmatched position
to determine its sex.
Then all that remains is to find
an appropriate couple of sacrifices.
The ocean shall provide.
It always does.
Look at the horizon.
It's all right.
Admittedly, there seems
to be a lot less than there usually is.
RINCEWIND: We're being carried
over the edge!
We're going to run out of world!
We are? I absolutely have to see that!
RINCEWIND: Help!
Rincewind!
Don't mind me. I've got a book to read.
I don't want to leave this world!
A prospect
immensely troubling to the Octavo.
- Ah!
- Oh.
It's you.
I just came to see
Arch Chancellor Weatherwax.
Do you have an appointment?
I've never needed an appointment before.
Well, the Arch Chancellor's
never been organised before.
- It's just...
- Look,
the Arch Chancellor
is going to have been very ill, quite soon,
and mustn't be disturbed.
Can you smell burning?
Have I been smoking in my sleep?
Huh!
I could have sworn
I was wearing my shoes.
Why don't you come with me instead?
There's something I know
you really want to show me.
Trymon.
Oh, dear.
HEAD LIBRARIAN: You'd better not
monkey around with it,
or who knows what'll happen?
The last person who went near it...
Yes?
Well, it was a long time ago.
All I'm saying is,
he never passed any exams after.
Ah!
As a matter of interest, after the last time,
what exactly did they do to Rincewind?
I never said anything about Rincewind.
Rincewind? Did I say Rincewind?
I meant whichever
perpetual student wizard it was
who monkeyed around with the Octavo.
Rincewind.
So,
when the spell left the Octavo,
where, exactly, did it go?
Get off, will you?
Are you saying you want me to stop?
- Yes! Stop, will you?
- Stop saving your life?
It's actually twice, now.
Oh, thank you.
Say again?
I said, thank you!
Ah!
Stop that! Will you stop that?
Look, a polite shake of the hand,
having first checked
for poison needles in the palm,
in that old, quaint,
Ankh-Morporkean tradition,
would be sufficient!
I'm on the edge of the world,
seeing things that most people
can only dream of,
on an adventure with visions and wonders
unimaginable in one lifetime.
It's all thanks to you, Rincewind.
You forgot the near-death experiences.
Well, I like to think of them
as edge-of-life ones.
With the best guide a little old
in-sur-ance clerk from Bes Pelargic
could ever hope for.
Well, I would have been fine, of course.
Even falling from the Wyrmberg.
Because to stop falling
to certain death is only a
level-two spell.
Actually, I was sort of hoping
that you could do some...
You know.
What, magic?
Like what?
Um...
In a fight,
you could turn people into worms.
Ah. No, no, no.
Turning people into animals
is an eighth-level spell.
Oh.
Look...
The thing is, I never really
completed my training.
I only know one spell.
And even that I got by accident.
What does it do?
Well, I don't know.
I suppose it could do anything.
But it's from the greatest spell book of all,
the Octavo.
The Octavo? Well,
how did you learn it?
When I was a much younger student
at the University,
I agreed to open the Octavo for a bet.
Pint of beer, I think it was.
It was as if
it was waiting for me.
I only had a second
before the spell leapt from the book
and settled in my memory
like a toad in a stone.
Well, then what happened?
Well, they dragged me out
and thrashed me, of course.
Never did get the pint of beer.
Well, what did the spell say, exactly?
It had vanished from the page,
so nobody will know what it says
until I say it.
Or until I die, of course,
and then it'll sort of say itself.
And nobody knows...
- what it does?
... what it does?
To know that, you would need
to be Arch Chancellor.
Now you tell me!
Why didn't we go over the edge?
Because our log hit that rope.
I think it's called the Circumfence.
It runs around the edge of the world.
No, no, you mean the circumference.
The circumference goes round
the edge of things.
So does the Circumfence.
I suppose that's the Rimbow.
It's just so beautiful.
Great. It's a nice view before we die.
RINCEWIND: Do you see the eighth colour?
That's the colour of magic.
Bet you there are a lot
of other worlds down there.
Yes, quite a number. Look, there's one.
Oh. Hey, that star's new.
Perhaps we should name it.
What's the point? Who will we tell?
We're never gonna get off this rock.
Unless we get in the boat.
Well, unless we get in the... What boat?
That boat.
Course, I could stay here forever. I mean...
On balance, I know
I should be very suspicious of that boat,
but I do like the idea
of getting back to dry land.
Are you sure?
I'm sure.
Look.
RINCEWIND: Civilisation.
Lovely to see you're still here,
Arch Chancellor.
Do you know what happens
when a wizard dies?
All the spells that he has memorised
say themselves.
It's one of the first things we learn.
Mmm. It's not quite true
with the eight great spells.
A great spell will simply find refuge
in the nearest mind
ready and open to receive it.
Hmm.
There you are.
You are going to recapture
the spell from its host?
Allow for wind speed, say, three knots.
Adjust for temperature.
There. Of course, it'll take a while
to get there and kill Rincewind.
Then the spell will immediately
return along the ionised path,
back here, to me.
Remarkable.
If, dare I say, a little old-fashioned.
But it's what happens
when all eight spells are spoken together
that might interest a wizard,
now, is it not?
Especially when they aspire
to wear the biggest shoes of all.
Oh, becoming your second
has always been the limit of my ambition.
Yes, of course it has.
I wish only to acquire knowledge, Master.
Which, as we know, is power.
And so, for the furtherance
of my knowledge, Master,
when the eight spells are said together...
Oh, to receive
that ultimate nugget,
you'll have to do much better
than that, young man.
Oh, I congratulate you, Master.
I can see that we must all get up
very early in the morning
if we are to get the better of you!
Early in the morning?
My dear lad,
you'll have to stay up all night.
Come.
Galder. It's the Octavo.
It's going
really ape.
Right. What's going on here?
HEAD LIBRARIAN:
Why are the spells so restless?
- The key.
- Oh!
Oh!
So, back in civilisation.
Yes, it looks like civilisation to me.
Welcome to Krull. My name is Marchessa.
I hope you're not proposing to enslave us.
Certainly not.
Oh, good.
You will, in fact, be sacrificed.
Thank you for another
fine mess, Twoflower.
RINCEWIND: Come on!
Oh!
Here we are,
completely trapped in a palace,
on an island we have no hope of leaving,
and, what's more, we...
Eh?
Look at all those worlds.
It's fantastic.
Wonder who's
gonna be wearing those suits.
Someone who isn't going
to be sacrificed, that's who.
Ha!
In the annals of the exploration
of our cosmos,
many have been the valiant efforts
of our cosmochelonians
and astrozoologists,
in their quest for knowledge
of the Great A'Tuin.
And you said
we had no way of escaping.
RINCEWIND: Just keep walking.
They'll never know it's us.
But I wasn't expecting an audience.
RINCEWIND: As soon as we get a chance,
we'll make a run for it, okay?
But never
has the bravery
of those who laid down their lives before
in the pursuit of the answer
to the ultimate question of the sex
of the turtle,
been more valid
by those who, today, venture forth
- to certain death.
- "Depths. "
Depths!
These two specially-trained,
highly-skilled chelonauts
will be honoured
by the chroniclers of Krull.
Is there a toilet in this suit?
I don't think so.
It's just that I think I need to boldly go.
I give you heroes,
not just of Krull,
but of the galaxy!
On the count of three,
we make a run for it, that way.
I don't think it's them.
You don't think
anyone's realised, do you?
Guards! Guards!
To the top of the ship!
They won't dare shoot at that.
I'm not! Not for me. I'm off.
Ah!
Perhaps you're right.
To the library!
Ouick!
Head Librarian?
Oooook.
To the Great Hall!
I wonder if they're gonna send
the ship over the edge.
- Follow me!
- This way!
Surrender! Stop, now!
This time, I'm definitely going to die.
Surrender! Go, go, go!
Now, listen, we'll tell them
that we'll damage the thing
unless they let us go.
Right? And that's all
we're gonna do, right?
Yeah, that's it. It'll lift off now.
Stop where you are!
RINCEWIND: What was that?
What was what?
I thought I heard something.
Twelve!
- RINCEWIND: That's good!
- Eleven!
Make it look like you're damaging it.
Ten!
I think it's stuck.
- Nine!
- RINCEWIND: Push it!
- Nine!
- You're not messing about...
- Nine!
- ... with anything in there, are you?
- Nine!
No, of course not.
- Oh, good.
- Nine!
What is the Octavo doing?
To the roof!
To the Tower of Art!
How many steps are there?
Eight thousand, eight hundred...
And eighty-eight.
Heave!
Nine!
Nine! Nine!
- RINCEWIND: What was that?
- Nine!
Doesn't seem to want to go!
- Nine!
- Nine!
- What?
Nine! Eight!
- That's it! I fixed it!
- Seven! Six!
- Fixed what?
- Five!
- Four! Three!
- We've gotta get off this thing!
Two!
One!
Lift-off!
No!
The stars! Worlds!
The whole damn sky, full of worlds!
Places no one's ever gonna see, except us!
Oh!
Oh, no!
No!
I've not seen that one before.
I don't know the significance
of the star, but that,
that mist, is important.
So, what's happening?
I fear
the only way to find out exactly
is to perform the Rite of AshkEnte.
Thank you, Arch Chancellor.
Nice try.
That mist is a change spell,
created by the Octavo.
The whole world is changing.
- For the better, I think.
- Oh!
That's so pretty.
I really should name it.
Has anybody seen the Arch Chancellor?
Yes.
And how can I help you?
I'll give it a name. "Goodbye World. "
Currently Twoflower,
the Discworld's first tourist,
is rapidly leaving it
in an attempt to escape Krull.
This attempt has been
Although this means he may also be
the Disc's last tourist,
he is enjoying the view.
Meanwhile, some way above Twoflower,
Rincewind isn't enjoying the view at all.
Only Great A 'Tuin, the world turtle,
knows why it's heading towards the star.
Those on the Disc are due to find
out in about two days,
and then they're really going to worry.
The Octavo, the greatest spell book
of all, is so worried about all this
that it must take action of its own.
Oh, great, the ground
is gonna break my fall.
Did I just leave the world,
only to land back on it again?
Yes, you did.
Why? Why, why!
We're not going anywhere.
Look at that.
Is it me or is that getting bigger?
Is the turtle flying straight
towards it, I ask you?
Well, wizards say
we always miss the stars.
But has anyone seen one
get this close before?
No!
Where are the wizards
when we need them?
Wizards out!
Wizards out! Wizards out!
Wizards out! Wizards out! Wizards out!
Wizards out! Wizards out!
One small step for a wizard,
into the unseen.
One giant leap
for the Unseen University.
Would the student body please
acknowledge the 305th Arch Chancellor?
Let it be known that although limited
personnel alterations have been made,
one or two other significant things
will be changing,
for the tidier.
As none of us have received guidance
as to the events of this morning,
and there seems to be a degree of
quite unnecessary anxiety
amongst the populous about the star,
I propose that we perform
the Rite of AshkEnte.
After its own space odyssey,
many miles from Ankh-Morpork,
in the Vortex Plains,
the Luggage has plans of its own.
And so, our guest, whose name is legend,
must tell us truly,
what is it that a man may call
the greatest things in life?
The crisp horizon.
The wind in your hair.
A fresh horse underneath you.
Or is it the sight of your enemy slain?
The humiliation of his tribe
and the lamentation of his women?
What you say?
I said, our guest, whose name is legend,
- must tell us truly...
- Oh, pish.
Hot water.
Good dentistry.
And soft lavatory paper.
Hadesire desurps
decorum demonia,
AshkEnte!
Rise up, oh,
creature of earth and darkness!
We do charge thee to abjure from...
I was at a party, you know.
It is said that you can see
both the past and the future.
Correct.
Then, perhaps you can tell us.
Why is the red star getting bigger?
Because the turtle is flying towards it.
Why?
For a purpose that has
nothing to do with me.
Then, perhaps you can tell us
what exactly happened this morning.
I understand that the Octavo was anxious
not to lose the eighth spell.
Hold on.
It was dropping off the Disc, apparently.
Hold on. Are we talking about the spell
that is inside the head of Rincewind?
That he's been carrying around
all these years? Yes.
Any idea why?
All I know is that all the spells
have to be said together at Solstice
or many worlds will be destroyed.
- Destroyed?
- It's an ancient prophecy,
written on the inner walls
of the Great Pyramid of Tsort.
Can you tell us where Rincewind is now?
The Forest of Skund.
Rimwards of the Ramtop Mountains.
Feeling very sorry for himself.
Hello? Anybody out there?
Twoflower?
Oh.
Now, may I go?
Oh. Yes.
I hope it's a good party.
I think it might go downhill at midnight.
- Why?
- That's when they'll be taking my mask off.
Hmm.
Evening.
I'm looking for anything we've got
on the Pyramid of Tsort.
Ook.
Yes.
Hmm.
Ook.
Ah.
Thank you.
"Whoever says all the spells together
"when the Disc is in danger... "
Ook. Ook!
Yes, yes, the star, I know.
"... will gain ultimate power... "
Ook. Ook.
"... to save the world. "
Yes, and that.
Now, listen, if you were to "ook" this
to any members of the faculty,
- you will be disciplined.
- Ook.
It's not as if bananas grow on trees.
As much as it pains me to say this,
Rincewind must not die.
At least, not until we bring him back here.
And empty his head.
Rincewind!
Go away. Go away.
Rincewind!
I'm not listening, I'm not listening.
It's me, Twoflower.
He's dead! And he's inside my head.
Why me? Why me? Why?
Twoflower?
Isn't it an amazing thing
that we ended up back on the world?
I must have done something really bad
to have got stuck with you.
The turtle must have caught us somehow.
- Why would it do that?
- I don't know, do I?
Anyway, where are we?
Oh!
- Alive or dead?
- Well, since we need him to say the spell,
in order to save the worlds,
I suspect alive might be better.
To save the worlds?
What does that mean?
I don't know. But as long as
one of the worlds he saves is ours,
I shall consider it a most
satisfactory outcome.
It's extraordinary. It looks like
they're gonna have a ceremony.
Ancient and traditional ritual,
probably dating back thousands
of years to celebrate the, um... The, um...
All that Golden Bough and Cycle of Nature
stuff just boils down to sex and violence.
Usually both at the same time.
I think we ought to be going.
Come on, let's go!
If only I had my picture box.
Oh, there you are.
It's very loyal.
Yes, if loyalty is what you look for
in a suitcase.
Come on, look, we ought to leave.
Is she a druidess?
I don't think so.
Look, you're not going to like
this next bit, I promise you.
I want to stay. Ceremonies like this
hark back to primitive simplicity...
If you must know,
they're going to sacrifice her.
What? Kill her?
Well, it wouldn't be much of
a sacrifice if they didn't, would it?
Couldn't they just use flowers
and berries and things?
Sort of symbolic?
Look, no self-respecting high priest
is going to go through all the business
of trumpets and processions,
then shove his knife in a daffodil
and a couple of plums, is he?
Come on.
No. Really, honestly, please.
Um, I say, there.
Yes, I say, may I have a word there, sir?
I'm sorry to intrude,
I don't mean to be a bother.
I was just there and I saw what looks
to be a lovely enterprise you have here.
I just wonder if you'd reconsider,
for a moment, the idea of sacrifice.
Tell me what that other idiot is doing
or you is a dead man.
You see, you can't bring her back.
With the blood and the white dress.
His name is Twoflower
and he's not from these parts.
Doesn't look like it.
Now, what I'm looking for
is the box full of treasure with the legs.
And leave...
Come here.
Oh, hello.
Star. Star.
Oh, look, it's getting bigger.
You ever done this sort of thing before?
What sort of thing?
Rushed into a temple, killed the priests,
stolen the gold and rescued the girl?
Um, not in so many words, no.
You do it like this.
Let's go.
It's all right.
Bloody well isn't.
Why do people always go
and spoil things?
You've just been saved
from absolutely certain death.
It's not easy around here,
you know. I mean,
keeping yourself... I mean, staying...
I mean, not letting myself...
Not losing your qualifications!
Oualifications?
I could have been up there with the
moon goddess by now, drinking mead
out of a silver bowl. Eight years of
staying home on Saturday nights
just right down the drain!
Oh. Well.
Where am I now?
You're dreaming.
Can I wake up, please?
No. You have a very important
task ahead of you.
Oh, good.
Rincewind!
Rincewind? Are you in there?
There's not even a flesh wound.
Rincewind!
Can you hear me, Rincewind?
What's up with the girl?
She won't let us rescue her.
Bugger that.
No!
Don't just lie there, you daft cow,
help me up.
Are you sure you can't hear
me in there, Rincewind?
Rincewind? Rincewind!
Many years ago, we arranged for
one of our number to hide in your head.
Who are we, exactly?
We are the seven spells,
and our task is to see that
nothing dreadfuI
happens to the eighth, Rincewind.
It is most important
that you don't
let the wizards take the spell from you.
All eight spells must be
said at the right time
or terrible things will happen.
And they mustn't be said
by the wrong people.
The wizards.
Precisely.
Am I in the Octavo?
In certain
metaphysicaI respects, yes.
Why are you screaming?
Yes, why are you screaming?
I'm inside a bloody book,
talking to voices I can't see,
and you ask me why I'm screaming?
It is very important you safeguard
the spell in your head
and bring it back to us at
the University in time for the Solstice,
so when the moment is precisely
right, we can be said.
Why should anyone want to say you?
It's the star. You see, the turtle
is heading towards it because...
No, no, no! Stop, stop, stop, stop.
Stop! You've totally ruined my life,
you do realise that, don't you?
I could have really made it as
a wizard if you hadn't used me
as a portable spell book.
I can't remember any other spells
because they're all too frightened
to be in the same head as you.
Look at it like this, then,
as soon as the spell is said,
- you'll be rid of it.
And us. Forever.
When's the Solstice?
Hey.
Oh, er, two days time, I think.
Right.
We've got to go. Right now.
Won't the Druids be celebrating
the Solstice here?
Probably not.
Well, are you sure?
'Cause I'd really like to stay here.
Yes.
But Ankh-Morpork is the place to be
on Solstice.
Well, Rincewind, if we're not gonna be...
Oh, to feel the cobbles under your feet
and the old familiar smell of the cesspits.
They're at their very best this time of year.
- The place that I feel I really...
- I want to take you home.
Home to the potatoes they sell
at the fried fish stall,
at the junction of
the Street of Cunning Artifices
and Midden Street.
Yeah, potatoes, but, Rincewind,
this was a lovely fight,
but what I really wanna see is
the Temple at Bel-Shamharoth.
Potatoes, I hear you calling.
What did you say?
I want to see
the Temple of Bel-Shamharoth.
Not the home of the giant terrifying spider
from which no one has ever returned alive?
That's the one.
Oh. Right.
Ah! Of course,
the River Smarl runs right past it.
- Well, that settles it, then.
- On our way to the Solstice celebrations
- at Ankh-Morpork.
- I can hear the potatoes calling.
Oh.
Right.
Shut up.
I don't like the sound of that.
What shall we do?
Um... Panic?
Oh. That's him!
Wizards. Panic!
Have they come to celebrate the Solstice?
Ouick, in there.
WIZARD: Rincewind!
Hey, they know you.
We've got you surrounded.
Come back with us to
see Arch Chancellor Trymon,
and everything will be all right.
You have his word.
- It's nice they want you back.
- No, it isn't. Even by wizards' standards,
Trymon is a nasty piece of work.
Now, we can do this the easy way
or we can do this the very easy way.
What's the easy way?
You come out not covered
in burning leaf mould.
RINCEWIND: What's the very easy way?
We set fire to the sacrificial pyre.
With you in it.
- How do you think it'll end?
- Well,
if that star is an omen,
it looks like we're all going to die.
- We should name it now, then.
- Might as well.
How about the Death Star?
Oh, don't be daft, what sort of name
is that? The Death Star?
Who cast a spell?
You didn't see that Trymon
out there, did you?
Trymon, no, why?
Well, for a minute there,
I thought we were in trouble.
Oh.
Rincewind, look out!
A little bit earlier would have been nice.
Oh, Twoflower! Twoflower!
All wizards must die!
If the wizards can't get rid of the star,
they should cease all magic
and commit suicide in good order.
If they're going to be like that,
personally, I'd let them burn.
All wizards must die!
The fact is, the star is getting bigger.
And without Rincewind's spell,
there's nothing we can do about it.
- I looked in the Mirror of Oversight.
- I used the Runes of M'haw.
May I make it clear that I tried
both the Runes and the Mirror
- and the entrails of a manicreach.
- Any good?
- So nobody knows where he is now?
- No.
In times of crisis, one must be wise.
And wise men do what the times demand.
All wizards must die! All wizards
must die! All wizards must die!
Twoflower, Twoflower. Come on, wake up.
We've got to go.
All right, if that's the way you want it.
- Let me rest me back.
- RINCEWIND: Twoflower.
Wakey-wakey. Come along, lad.
There's some liniment stuff in the
saddlebag, if you wouldn't mind.
Who are you?
Cohen is me name.
Cohen the Barbarian?
The very same.
Oh, hang on, hang on.
Cohen is a great big chap, built like a bull.
Chest muscles like a sack of footballs.
He's the Disc's greatest warrior!
He's a legend in his own lifetime.
My grandfather
used to tell me...
Yes.
That's right, boy.
I'm a lifetime in me own legend.
You were the greatest.
Bards still sing songs about you.
I never get any royalties.
That's the saga of my life.
and what have I got to show for it?
Back ache, piles, bad digestion
and a hundred different recipes for shoop.
Shoop. I hate shoop.
- Shoop.
- Soup.
It's me teeth, you see.
No one takes you seriously
when you've got no teeth.
They say, "Sit by the fire,
Granddad, and have some shoop. "
That's a nasty cough
you've got there, mind.
Yes, yes, I know. I'm sorry.
It's just that... Come on, wake up!
He's gone.
What, dead?
Well...
I've got to get him back to Ankh-Morpork.
Well, he's not exactly dead.
He can't die, the Patrician will kill me.
- He's just gone.
- He's gone?
Where? Can't I get him back?
I don't know, but I think I know
someone who might have a map.
A necromancer.
What's neg romance?
No, necromancy is talking to the dead.
Oh.
Course, I don't believe in tarot cards.
I mean, all that stuff about it being
dissolved wisdom from the universe...
Lot of old rubbish.
The star.
It's nothing to do with me.
Four of elephants.
The ace of turtles.
Death.
Is he really dead?
She said it's a sort of medicine.
So, if you want to see your friend
in this world again,
I should drink it if I were you.
Well, if you're sure it's okay.
Can't make the beer taste
any worse, can it?
Well, he did take a spell for me, so,
here goes.
Well, actually, it doesn't taste too bad.
Oh, where am I going?
Don't look back.
But where am I going?
Oh, no.
Twoflower!
Twoflower! Twoflower!
Twoflower. There you are.
What an amazing clock.
Rincewind, where are we, exactly?
We're sort of informally dead.
Oh.
Come along. Look, we haven't got time
to take pictures, let's go.
It won't take very long.
Poor light! Three bloody years
in f/8 if you ask me.
Do your best.
Look, what do you wanna
take pictures for?
Can't you just remember it?
Well, in years to come,
when I'm sitting by the fire...
You'll be sitting by the fire permanently
if we don't get out of here!
This way. Come on.
Oh, I do hope you're not going.
I so seldom have company.
We... We really mustn't keep you.
Get ready to run.
Oh, but I've never been
at Death's door before.
Right, now, run!
Don't look back! Don't look back!
Mustn't look back!
There are worse things
than being dead, you know.
Name two!
That always annoys me.
I might as well as install a revolving door.
If I've got time.
Rincewind.
- Oh. Hello.
- Hi there.
- Did I move at all?
- No.
You just looked at the fire,
as if you'd seen a ghost.
Oh, you're alive.
But no thanks to yourself,
Mr, "Would you like some berries while
you stick your sickle in my head?"
Hey! No hugging! I do not hug.
My head.
You've been ill. You've been hallucinating.
Hmm. Well, if I've been hallucinating,
I bet I took some great pictures.
Ah! No. No, no, no.
You can't. No picture-ography.
The Horse People are very superstitious.
I'll put this in the Luggage for you.
You'd better not be going somewhere
next where we need too much black.
It wasn't like that. It was a little cottage...
You see what you see, I paint what I see
and I only see what's really there, see?
Um, what happened to old Galder's chair,
the one with lion arms
and the ducks' feet?
Oh, that. I had it burnt.
But it was a priceless magical artefact.
A genuine piece of...
Now, may I draw your attention
to the agenda?
What does a genda do?
It's simply a list of things
that we need to discuss.
Top of which is the matter of Rincewind.
And the star.
People are agitating, you know.
That is item number two on the agenda.
Item number one is the fact
that you have failed to find him.
So, what are you suggesting
we do about it?
I'm not suggesting anything.
- I've sent someone to find him.
- Who?
A hero.
- On whose authority?
- Mine.
- I need no other.
- You've hired a blood-thirsty idiot
who can't walk and think at the same time.
How can you take anyone seriously when...
The hero,
even at this moment
galloping towards the Vortex Plains,
doesn't get involved
in trading insults with wizards.
Not just because
they don't take it seriously,
but because this particular hero is,
in fact, a heroine
named Herrena.
- The Horse People have decided.
- They hold Cohen in the highest regard.
- Cohen? The Barbarian?
- I was going to mention that.
- But back in Ankh-Morpork you said...
- I lied.
The Horse People have decided
to give you mounts and directions
to the River Smarl,
where you can catch
a ferry back to the Circle Sea.
- You lied?
- Yeah. Ah, well, I...
I'd like to thank you very much
because you've been most helpful
and it will be very, um,
different without you.
You don't wish us to accompany you?
No, no, we'll be fine.
These are dangerous times.
Yes, I know but, um,
I'm beginning to cope very well
with these near-death experiences.
I just can't believe
it's Cohen the Barbarian.
Is he, perhaps, being sarcastic?
No, no, he's always like that.
He's got eyes, hasn't he?
Yes, but, um, he doesn't see things
as other people do.
Take this yurt, for example.
It's... Well, it's dark and greasy
and smells like a very ill horse.
Yes.
Hmm. Yes, but he would say that it
smells like the curious and rare resins
plundered by lean-eyed warriors
from the edge of civilisation.
You know, so on and so on.
Well, the snake warriors are the...
I could tell him to shut up.
No, I...
I like his eyes.
They can see for 50 years.
I shall accompany you
for the reason that if anything
should happen to you,
the legend would be besmirched.
But also on the count of me chilblains.
I'm coming, too!
In case Cohen needs anything rubbed.
It seems brighter now.
What is it?
Why does everybody look at me?
I don't know what it is.
- It's probably a comet or something.
- I wonder if it's a sign.
- Will we be burned up?
- Well, how the hell would I know?
I've never been hit by a comet
before, have I? Walk on.
Have you combed your beard?
Eh?
I think she's taken a bit of a shine to you.
If I was 20 years younger...
Yes?
...I'd be 67.
Me, riding with Cohen the Barbarian.
Who could possibly attack us now?
It is indeed a hundred miles
rimwards to the River SmarI,
across the high plains and down
to the gloomy pine forest
that lies rather closer than is comfortable
to the Trollbone Mountains.
The clue is in the title.
Did we really have to stop?
The River Smarl can't be that far away.
The ferryman doesn't work at night,
so we might as well get some rest.
Besides, my feet are killing me.
You'd have quite nice feet
if only you looked after them.
You don't get to meet many
chiropodists in my line of work.
I've met any amount of snake priests,
mad gods,
war lords... Never any chiropodists.
I suppose it wouldn't look right, really.
Cohen against the chiropodists.
Or Cohen
and the Chiropractors of Doom?
Or Cohen and the mad dentists.
What's funny about that?
Oh.
Nothing in particular.
I don't blame you. It's hard being
a hero when you've got no teeth.
Don't matter what else you lose.
You can get by with one eye, even.
But show them a mouthful of gums,
and no one has any respect.
I do.
Why don't you have a new pair
made for yourself?
- Well, I do have trouble masticating.
- Huh?
- I beg your pardon?
- You know, chewing.
Oh, yeah, chewing.
They're called den-chures.
Time chewers?
- Dentures!
- Lots of people wear them where I'm from.
What? And they don't
just have to eat soup?
No!
That has to rank as the most
pathetically easy ambush
in swordswoman history. I've no idea
why you're so important.
Important? To who?
- The wizards.
- The wizards.
At the Unseen University.
For some reason, they want me
to take you back.
It's a short ride hubwards
to the ferry at the River Smarl.
From there, well be at Ankh-Morpork
by morning.
Excuse me.
Yes?
Do you think we could drop by the
Temple of Bel-Shamharoth on the way?
Only if you want to ride
a thousand miles rimwards
in the wrong direction.
You mean you can't reach
the Temple of Bel-Shamharoth by
the River Smarl?
No, of course not.
Oh. Well, at least we'll be in Ankh-Morpork
for the special Solstice celebrations.
Oh, yes.
- What special Solstice celebrations?
- Never heard of them.
So my guide wasn't going to take
me to Bel-Shamharoth at all, was he?
No. It was too dangerous.
Do you want half your money back?
Do you want all your money back?
Look, it's not about money.
We're supposed to be friends.
- We shook on it.
- Look, if you must know the truth,
I only agreed to be your guide
because the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
said he'd do unspeakable things
to me if I didn't!
So there you have it.
- Thank you for being honest.
- Well...
They don't even celebrate
the Solstice in Ankh-Morpork, do they?
No.
And I'm probably the worst wizard
this side of the Circle Sea.
And I thought everything
was going so well.
Well, you thought wrong.
You're in great danger,
you've got to put the fire out!
No, you're in great danger.
The fire stays. Don't try to distract me.
No, it's... You've obviously never
heard of the legend of Old Granddad.
I knew he was around here somewhere.
- When a troll gets older...
- There are trolls?
...he gets bigger and bigger.
And this is a very old troll.
Everyone knows trolls keep away from fire.
But this specific troll can't.
- Can't?
- Can't?
No, because you've lit the fire
on his tongue!
Cohen!
Is it an earthquake?
Come on, you two.
Cohen!
Get up, you silly cow.
Come on, run!
RINCEWIND: I think we're going home
in an envelope.
Wow.
If complete and utter chaos was lightning,
then being tied to you is like
standing on a hill top
in a thunder storm
wearing a wet copper armour
and shouting, "All gods are idiots. "
- Thank you.
- It wasn't a compliment!
- Oh.
- Come on, let's stand up.
Well, I'm off to see Bel-Shamharoth.
Good luck, and I hope the spider
eats you. Sod the Patrician.
I'm going home to Ankh-Morpork.
- Fine.
- Fine.
Ow!
- Happy now?
- I don't want to talk about it.
We're going to Ankh-Morpork.
This isn't exactly what I had in mind.
Is it just me, or does that look
rather like a very large target?
Destroy those wizards!
Destroy those wizards!
Destroy those wizards!
The trouble is, the Arch Chancellor
is just not a team player.
There is, of course, the tradition
of dead men's pointy shoes.
You mean, create a vacancy in the Arch
Chancellor's department, sort of thing?
Very well.
We need a volunteer.
Anyone?
Anyone?
Everyone, then.
Ook.
Wait.
You're not the usual ferryman.
I've been here before.
The usual man is a big fellow.
Okay.
Two of you, grab him.
Daft cow.
You, shut up.
Let's see what's under that robe.
Hey!
Kill them both. I'll deal with this old fool.
Time to get going. Come on!
I say, well done! Excellent, sir.
Oh.
Pulled my back.
Oh.
I don't know who you are
or where you're from,
and there's nothing personal
about this, you understand.
Are you okay?
Oh, the back is... Is cured.
My father used to recommend
hanging from a door.
Hmm.
We really ought to be going.
I don't suppose you'd be interested
in selling the Luggage?
Oh, no, I couldn't possibly do that.
I was looking for a present for Bethan,
you see.
We're getting married.
That's great.
We thought you ought to be
the first to know.
- That's very...
- This is cause for celebration.
I'm pretty sure I have some travel
biscuits and water in my Luggage.
You, er... You serious
about getting married?
- Any objections?
- Oh, no. No, no, no.
No, I was just thinking,
you know, that she's
in her twenties,
and you are of the elderly persuasion.
Time I settled down, you mean?
No, I was thinking more of the, um,
physically, the age difference.
About, um...
Oh, I see what you mean.
The strain.
I hadn't looked at it like that.
I hope I haven't upset anything.
Oh, no, no, no, don't apologise.
You were right to point it out.
You know, sometimes,
you just have to take risks.
Now, don't be offended, but I think
we'll go ahead with the wedding
anyway and, er, well,
just have to hope she's strong enough.
Will we get to Ankh-Morpork by dawn?
Absolutely.
Right, who wants to learn
how to row a ferry to Ankh-Morpork?
The reason that I have
gathered you here today
is to announce that
there will be a meeting
with an agenda.
With just one item on it.
An agendum.
I'm sorry?
We're assuming that this must be
to do with the news
that your hero has failed
to capture Rincewind.
I don't recall you being minuted to talk!
There will be a meeting
to consult the Octavo.
With only seven spells?
Are you sure that's wise, Arch Chancellor?
We have gone beyond wisdom.
Ankh-Morpork.
Pearl among cities.
There's no city in the multiverse
that can rival Ankh-Morpork for its smell.
RINCEWIND: Look. Come on.
Wizard, why have you let us down?
What's he doing?
This is what I've been looking for.
We'll join you shortly.
- What, a jewellers?
- It's a surprise.
You wait here, Bethan.
Excuse me. Why is everyone leaving?
The star is gonna crash into the Disc.
We're all gonna burn up and die.
The star is life,
not death.
What?
- What, what?
- Your voice, it just went all crackly.
- It didn't sound like you.
- It's the spell, it's trying to take me over.
It knows what's going to happen.
Why are they painting all the stars?
They think it'll ward it off or something?
No, that's not gonna work.
I think I know what will. Come on.
It's massive! Move!
The strangest thing I've ever made.
But practical, I'll give you that.
What did you say they were called again?
Den-chewers. Made from trolls' teeth.
This is Bethan, my betrothed.
Is there anywhere round here
where I can get a wedding dress?
And a steak.
What are... What are you doing?
Ridding the Disc of wickedness.
That's the Necrotelicomnicon.
Yes. Wizards use it to contact the dead.
How did you know that?
Oh, I just, you know, just guessed.
He's got a big box on legs.
He looks like a wizard.
Gentlemen, the light fantastic!
We're safe, so long as
we don't touch the book.
Let's see.
To appease it,
the thing that is the guardian,
be silenced and return to the darkness.
Oh, what am I talking about?
I can't do magic.
What? When I look at you,
all I see is a wizard.
- Wizard?
- Yes.
- You're a wizard. Act like it.
- Act like it?
Yeah.
All right, stand back
or I'll fill you full of magic!
All the magic's gone.
The star's taken it away.
I mean it.
Ashonti
perucha
bealzeboar!
Oh!
Right, that's far enough!
We're heavily armed.
- What about.
- What?
Where is the Luggage?
Where's your Luggage?
Well, I often don't know
where my Luggage is,
that's what being a tourist is all about.
Right. I have a wizard
and I'm not afraid to use him.
To the Great Hall, gentlemen.
WIZARDS: He's locked it!
The star has spots on it.
No, they're not spots, they are...
They're things.
Things that go round the... Round the star.
Like the sun goes round the Disc.
- They're closer because... Because...
- They're definitely spots.
- Yeah.
- Come on. Ah!
False wizards must die!
- False wizards must die!
- Come on, let's go.
False wizards must die!
False wizards must die!
Come on.
The lower cellars are this way.
Anything that wheezes like
that can't possibly be dangerous.
Don't look back.
Is anyone out there?
Please!
- Hello?
- Who's there?
Argh!
It's Rincewind.
Yes, that's right, it's Rincewind.
- Rincewind.
- Did you bring the spell?
Er, yes. Who's in there?
The masters of wizardry.
The masters!
Why are you in there?
- We got locked in.
- What, with the Octavo?
The Octavo, in fact, is not here.
Oh. Oh, right.
Now, look, this is going
to need a bit of magic,
so, be a good fellow,
run along and find a wizard.
Run along and find a wizard?
All right, stand back.
- Find something to hide behind.
- What for?
Oh, he means it. You see that vein
bulging in his forehead?
- He's serious.
- Will you shut up?
Right.
Ha!
Did you see Trymon
on the way down here?
No. Why?
Because he's stolen the Octavo.
Oh.
- Him.
- I always said he'd go a long way.
He'll go a lot further if he opens that book.
Why? What will happen?
Well, one mind can't hold all the spells.
- It'll break down and leave a hole.
- In his head?
Um, no, in the fabric of the universe.
He might think he can control it
by himself but...
But he hasn't got the spell in your head.
So...
Come on!
He's done it. He's opened a pathway.
- Are those things demons?
- Demons would be a picnic
compared with what's trying
to come through up there!
What do you propose to do about it?
Oh, it's all over, do you see?
You can't put the spells back in the book.
You can't unsay what has been said.
You can try.
No!
Get out of my way!
What?
Wait! Hold it, hold it.
Listen, you don't understand.
There's unimaginable horrors up there.
I've always wanted to do something
like this. I mean,
this is an adventure, isn't it?
You are definitely mad.
Shh.
It's stopped.
Huh.
They're blank.
They're all completely blank.
Then he did it, he's read the spells.
Successfully, too.
I think we should go up and, um,
congratulate him.
- Congratulate him?
- When you're advanced in the craft, lad,
you'll find, at times,
the important thing is success.
That's no way to treat a book.
The spine's bent right back.
Give me that. A lad, am I? Huh!
"When I'm advanced in the craft"?
I've only been walking around
for years with one of the greatest
spells in my head.
And didn't go totally insane, did I?
No, you didn't.
- Where are the other wizards?
Ah!
Rincewind. Join us, won't you?
The eighth spell.
Give it to me.
Give me
the spell!
No. You'll have to try and take it.
And I don't think you can!
Oh.
But I only have to kill you,
and it is mine.
- These statues look like wizards!
- They are the wizards!
They are?
They were!
There are worse things.
I could clothe your body with ants.
- Ooh.
- I have the power...
Hey! I have a sword, you know.
Ooh!
Ah! Pathetic!
Pathetic? I'll show you pathetic.
Hey. Hello?
Rincewind, where's the sword? I'll get it.
I have to warn you
that I'm a real wizard now.
Then, join your fellow wizards,
you turgid little worm!
- I have no need of you now.
Oh, there it is.
Come! The little spell.
Unto me!
- No! No!
- Now what? Oh, right!
I suppose they're the spells.
- RINCEWIND: Twoflower?
- Yes?
Is that... Is that you, Rincewind?
Yes. And I want you to do something
very important for me, Twoflower.
Yes. I'm... I'm ready.
What is it you want me to do?
I want you to come over here,
and help me up,
before my hand slips off this stone.
- I'm glad you're alive.
- Yes, so am I.
Yes. Could you...
Could you now help me up?
- That might be a little difficult.
- Why? What are you holding onto?
- To you!
- Oh. Me.
- Besides me!
- What do you mean, besides you?
Oh. Oh, bugger.
I don't know why it is,
but ever since I've met you,
I've spent a lot of my time
hanging on by my fingertips
over certain depths.
Have you noticed that?
Oh! Oh, it's you! Oh, no, not again!
No! No!
I think I just had another
near-Rincewind experience.
A little bit earlier would have been nice.
Funny place to put statues.
No one can see them.
Mind you, can't say they're up to much.
Very poor work.
This is where we say goodbye.
Out!
What's he doing now? Bloody old fool.
- Isn't all this magic exciting?
- It's only lights.
He hasn't even produced doves or
billiard balls out of his sleeves.
Is that it?
RINCEWIND: New worlds!
Must get a picture of this.
I might forget.
How could you ever forget?
It's the most beautiful thing
I've ever seen in my life.
Got it!
That's old Twoflower for you.
He just appreciates beauty
in his own way.
I mean, if a poet sees a daffodil,
he stares at it,
and then writes a long poem.
But Twoflower would wander off
and buy a book on botany,
and then, as he reads it,
he would tread on the daffodil.
The star!
It's getting smaller.
Oh!
It's like a sea of gold!
Golden syrup, more like.
That is a nice dramatic ending.
But life doesn't work like that,
and there are other things
that have to happen.
There is the Octavo, for example,
and many of the observers realised
that dropping towards them
is the single most magicaI thing
on the Discworld.
- Okay? Right. Come on.
- Oh, dear.
Later, Twoflower did ask the
Luggage what it had done with the Octavo.
But its expression
could only be described as...
What are they doing now?
...wooden.
They're trying to open the Luggage.
Come on!
It's a nice day.
Air like wine!
- Rincewind, I've decided...
- You know, I think I might re-enrol.
I think I could make a good go of this
magic thing, and graduate very well.
Because they do say that
if it's summa cum laude,
then, the living is easy!
That's good, because...
And, of course,
there's plenty of room up top,
now that the big boys
are on doorstep duty.
- Will they be able to be turned back?
- Er...
Probably not.
Will they be able to do something
with Trymon?
Yes! He'll make a very nice rockery.
Go on! You go and sort this all out.
I think I could do very well
with this magic lark.
- The thing is, I'm going home.
- And a sharp lad,
who's had some experience
of the world, could quite easily...
- Sorry. What did you say?
- I said, I'm going home.
What home?
Home, home. Back across the sea,
where I live. You know!
- Oh!
- It occurred to me last night,
all this travelling and seeing things is fine,
but there's a lot of fun to be had
in having been.
You know, putting your pictures in a book,
remembering things.
- There is?
- Oh, yeah. And the important thing
about having a lot of things to remember
is that you have to have
some place to go afterwards
where you can remember them.
You haven't really been anywhere
until you've got back home.
Oh, good.
Well, if that's the way you see it,
when are you going?
Today, I think. There's bound to be
a ship going part of the way.
Yes, I... I expect so.
That settles it.
He'll drop me at the Brown Islands,
and I can easily get a ship from there.
Oh, well. Great.
- Ahem!
- Oh!
- You found a priest, then.
- Yes.
And Cohen didn't even try to kill
him for his valuables.
It's a great dress.
Thank you. I stole it myself.
Oh.
Look, this is for you two.
Oh!
I know it can be expensive,
setting up home.
Or a small kingdom, even.
I've also thought about
something I can give you.
Oh! Really, no. You don't have to.
It's all yours. I don't need it any more,
and it won't really fit on my wardrobe.
What?
The Luggage! Don't you want it?
Oh! Luggage!
Ah.
Yes...
But it's yours!
It follows you. It won't follow me.
Oh.
Luggage?
This is Rincewind. You're his now, right?
It doesn't really belong to anyone
but itself, really.
Yes.
Well, I guess this is it.
Yes.
Goodbye, Rincewind. When I get home,
I'll send you a postcard or something.
- Oh, come here.
- Oh!
And anytime you're passing,
someone here is bound to know
where I am.
Yeah.
Well,
I guess that's about it, then.
Yes. That's about it, right enough.
Right.
Yeah.
Right.
No, no, no! Don't want you.
I give you to yourself. You understand?
I said I don't want you! Go!
Go away!
All right! Come on.
So, does that mean
the star turtle's female, then?
Well, in my opinion,
it's all a question of perspective.