By Terry Pratchett
Twoflower was once a vacationer, the 1st ever obvious at the Discworld. vacationer, Rincewind made up our minds, intended fool. someplace at the frontier among proposal and fact exists the Discworld, a parallel time and position which would sound and scent a great deal like our personal, yet which seems to be totally different. It performs by way of various principles. definitely it refuses to succumb to the old fashioned concept that universes are governed by means of natural common sense and the concord of numbers. yet simply because the Disc is diversified doesn't suggest that a few issues don't remain an identical. Its very life is ready to be threatened via an odd new blight: the coming of the 1st vacationer, upon whose survival rests the peace and prosperity of the land. but when the individual charged with keeping that survival within the face of robbers, mercenaries and, good, loss of life is a spectacularly inept wizard, a bit common sense may possibly change into an excellent idea...
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Additional resources for The Colour of Magic (Discworld, Book 1) (UK Edition)
There is foodstuff in there. you are little need to it starved. ' Rincewind peered into the darkish recesses of the baggage. there have been certainly, one of the chaos of bins and baggage of gold, a number of bottles and applications in oiled paper. He gave a cynical snigger, mooched round the deserted jetty until eventually he chanced on a bit of wooden concerning the correct size, wedged it as in a well mannered way as attainable within the hole among the lid and the field, and pulled out one of many flat programs. It held biscuits that became out to be as difficult as diamond-wood. ' ’loody 'ell,' he muttered, nursing his tooth. 'Captain Eightpanther's visitors' Digestives, them,' stated the imp from the entrance to his field. 'Saved many a lifestyles at sea, they've got. ' 'Oh, yes. Do you utilize them as a raft, or simply throw them to the sharks and type of watch them sink? what is within the bottles? Poison? ' 'Water. ' 'But there is water in every single place! Why'd he are looking to convey water? ' 'Trust. ' 'Trust? ' 'Yes. that is what he did not, the water right here. See? ' Rincewind opened a bottle. The liquid inside of could have been water. It had a flat, empty flavour, without hint of existence. 'Neither style nor smell,' he grumbled. the bags gave a bit creak, attracting his consciousness. With a lazy air of calculated threat it close its lid slowly, grinding Rincewind's impromptu wedge like a dry loaf. 'All correct, all right,' he acknowledged. 'I'm pondering. ' Ymor's headquarters have been within the Leaning Tower on the junction of Rime highway and Frost Alley. at nighttime the solitary safeguard leaning within the shadows appeared up on the conjoining planets and puzzled idly what swap in his fortunes they may usher in. there has been the faintest of sounds, as of a gnat yawning. The protect glanced down the abandoned road, and now stuck the glimmer of moonlight on whatever mendacity within the dust a couple of yards away. He picked it up. The lunar gentle gleamed on gold, and his consumption of breath was once nearly loud adequate to echo down the alleyway. there has been a moderate sound back, and one other coin rolled into the gutter at the different facet of the road. by the point he had picked it up there has been one other one, a bit method off and nonetheless spinning. Gold used to be, he remembered, stated to be shaped from the crystallized gentle of stars. beforehand he had by no means believed it to be precise, that anything as heavy as gold may possibly fall certainly from the sky. As he drew point with the other alley mouth a few extra fell. It was once nonetheless in its bag, there has been plenty of it, and Rincewind introduced it down seriously onto his head. whilst the safeguard got here to he discovered himself having a look up into the wild-eyed face of a wizard, who was once menacing his throat with a sword. within the darkness, too, whatever was once gripping his leg. It used to be the disconcerting kind of grip that steered that the gripper may perhaps grip lots tougher, if he desired to. 'Where is he, the wealthy foreigner? ' hissed the wizard. 'Quickly! ' 'What's preserving my leg? ' stated the fellow, with a be aware of terror in his voice. He attempted to wriggle loose. The strain elevated. 'You would not are looking to know,' stated Rincewind. 'Pay awareness, please.