Original subtitles

(soaring orchestral music)

- [Narrator] In a distant and second-hand set of dimensions,

through wavering star mists, see the Great A'Tuin.

(dramatic vocalization music)

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.

Until one day, the island kingdom of Krull,

whose rim-most mountains project over the rim fall,

lowered over the edge a brass vessel

containing several 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 fundamental question.

- What is the sex of the turtle?

- [Narrator] 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?

- [Narrator] Several 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.

(whimsical music)

When our story begins,

wizards are not very nice.

Carrying the final remains

of one of their number,

the eight heads of the orders of wizardry

have demonstrated great powers of survival.

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-- (door bangs)

(wizards chattering)

- Sorry, sorry.

I'm not late, am I?

- Who is that?

- Rincewind, Arch Chancellor.

- Rincewind?

(Trymon whispers)

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.

(somber clarinet music)

Goodbye, Mr Rincewind.

(mischievous orchestral music)

- [Narrator] 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.

(dagger whirring) (Narrowbolt groans)

(somber clarinet music)

- You can't-- - And don't come back!

- Now, let me tell you,

Ah, thank you very much.

(Rincewind grunts)

(whimsical orchestral music)

- [Narrator] Deep in its very bowels,

the departure of the Disc's worst wizard

from the Unseen University has stirred magic.

(growling) (upbeat music)

- Good day to thee, sire.

- Right.

- Goodbye, world.

- [Death] 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!

- [Narrator] The tourist's luggage is no ordinary suitcase.

It has absolutely no brain,

and a homicidal 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.

- [Twoflower] Hmm?

- Two!

- Two?

- Two.

- Oh!

Two.

Two.

(speaking gibberish) Um, shower?

(speaking gibberish) Shower?

- Huh?

- It is!

Sapient pearwood!

- Um,

(speaking gibberish) toiletries?

Toilet,

- May I be of assistance?

- Oh, shove off, Rincewind.

(speaking gibberish)

- It won't work.

It's the book, you see, it tells him what to say.

It's magic.

(speaking gibberish)

- Aye!

(speaking gibberish)

- No!

(speaking gibberish) Twoflower.

(speaking gibberish) Tourist.

- Oh, uh,

(speaking gibberish) Rincewind.

- 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.

(speaking gibberish)

- Yes.

You are correct in your surmise.

This is, technically, false coinage.

- I knew it, 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 got to get back.

- [Narrator] And so, the leaders of a number

of the many gangs, guilds

and collections of other nefarious dirtbags 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,

and 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.

(Rincewind laughing)

Halt!

(crossbow clanks) (horse whinnies)

- [Rincewind] Bugger it!

- [Patrician] The city gates.

Attempting to leave.

- [Narrator] 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.

(Rincewind whimpers)

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?

(Rincewind stammers)

Of course,

we could be merciful.

Think we should be merciful?

(raven caws)

- Two rhinu.

- One policy.

(door bangs)

- 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.

(door bangs)

- If anybody's going to kill him,

he'll need to talk to me first.

- But,

- Get those dwarves out of here!

(gasps)

- 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!

- [Ruffian] It's magic!

(grunting)

- 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.

(fighters grunting)

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 color 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.

(exciting orchestral music)

(speared man screams)

(crashing) (grunting)

- Whoa!

Oh, who did that?

You!

All right, all right, all right.

I give in.

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, (speaking gibberish)

Smile!

Magic!

- Uh, it's a collapsing spell.

Come along, we got to 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.

- (laughs) 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!

- [Twoflower] What are we gonna see next?

(jolly accordion music)

What a great day!

Ah!

- Hmm?

Yeah.

That's my favorite, with Cohen.

(Broadman humming)

(tap squeaks) (ominous music)

- What the,

Can you smell oil?

- I don't think so.

- I'll kill that bloody cat.

- [Death] Here, take this.

- Oh, thanks.

- [Death] 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 insurance.

- 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.

- Well you don't want that to happen,

so you take out an insurance policy, 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.

- [Death] 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.

(explosion booms) (dramatic music)

(townspeople screaming)

- 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, you dozy idiot!

- [Death] 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! (explosion booms)

- That's the oil bond store going up.

- How dangerous is Chirm?

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!

(dramatic music)

Oi, Rincewind!

- [Narrator] 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.

- [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.

(blade rings)

- Hmm? - Ah!

(Trymon growls)

(sinister keyboard music)

- 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 organized.

(building rumbles)

Is everything in order down there?

- Oh, absolutely.

- Oh, everything is in alphabetical order, in fact.

So, this is the famous Octavo.

- [Librarian] 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.

- [Trymon] Greyhald Spold, how convenient!

(Octavo growls)

(eerie music)

- [Twoflower] Rincewind?

- [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.

(wolves howling)

Dragons it is.

Rincewind?

(wolves snarling)

- [Death] Your lifetime is up, Rincewind.

I can't hang around all day.

I can.

What have you done with the tourist?

- [Death] 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?

- [Death] There is a distinct possibility

that he may not need to.

- What are you grinning at, huh?

- [Death] 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?

- [Death] 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!

- [Death] 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,

- [Rincewind] Dragons?

Nobody believes in them any more.

Hal!

(ominous music)

- 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 organized.

- Certainly extremely dangerous.

- So, where is it now?

Do think very carefully, Mr Spold.

- I really wish I did know, Mr Trymon.

- Hmm.

(ominous music)

Try breathing through this!

(Spold snoring)

- [Death] Dark in here, isn't it?

(pleasant orchestral music)

- (groans) 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.

(roaring)

- Huh?

- [Twoflower] Whoa!

- I think that we could,

I don't believe in them!

They don't exist!

(screams)

(Rincewind groans)

- Psst, psst!

Psst!

- No, just dazed, actually.

Who said that?

- [Sword] Well, don't just lie there, pull me out!

- What?

- [Sword] Come on, come on, pull me out.

- [Rincewind] You, You spoke!

- [Sword] I'm a magic sword.

You weren't born with a mysterious birth mark

in the shape of a crown, were you?

- Um, no.

- [Sword] No, oh, just asking.

Were you with the other fellow?

- Might have been.

- [Sword] 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.

- [Sword] Come on!

Come on! - Mm?

- [Sword] Right, take a firm grip.

Ooh, that's good, that's good.

Could be worse.

This could have been an anvil.

(sword rings) (Rincewind screams)

Finally!

The dragon's headed hubwards!

- Even if they did exist,

I'm not cut out for dragons.

- [Sword] Nothing to it.

I'll show you!

Right, I suggest we start with the one in the trees.

Over there. - Oh!

- [Sword] No, you don't.

- You see?

There's nothing there.

- [Sword] Oh, well, you can start with her instead.

Okay?

Okay? - I don't know

how to be a hero!

- [Sword] 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.

(lock clanks) (ominous music)

- 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?

- [Sword] Well, obviously, you attack.

- [Rincewind] Oh!

Why didn't I think of that?

- [Sword] Because you're a defeatist.

On your marks,

get set,

go!

Got you, and again!

Bit to the left.

Ha, ha! (Rincewind laughs)

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.

- [Sword] My point precisely.

- He's not my friend.

But I suppose you'd better take me

to this Wyrmberg of yours.

- There, listen.

(dragon roars)

- [Rincewind] I didn't,

I didn't know dragons were see-through!

- Didn't you? - No!

- Then watch him as we get closer to the Wyrmberg.

- [Rincewind] Oh, no!

That, at least, is very marginally better.

(soaring orchestral music)

- [Liessa] Jump now.

- [Rincewind] What?

Surrender.

- [Sword] Never!

- Um, uh, never.

- Of course not.

He's a hero, isn't he?

- [Sword] 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 am sure he is anxious to get started.

- No, really!

If you are looking after my--

- 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.

- 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.

(clanking) (Arch Chancellor yells)

- 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.

(Dragon roars) (Twoflower yells)

- [Dragon] I obey, Lord.

- Obey?

- [Dragon] Of course, Lord.

- Open it?

(dragon roars)

Huh! (laughs)

- 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.

(ominous music)

(dramatic music)

- We fight to the death.

Yours.

- [Rincewind] Ah!

I suppose I ought to warn you

that I have a magic sword.

- [Sword] That's me!

- What a coincidence.

- [Liessa's Sword] Hello!

- [Sword] Hello!

- Oh, no.

- [Sword] Prepare to be defeated.

- [Liessa's Sword] I don't think so.

- [Sword] I've seen sharper butter knives.

- [Liessa's Sword] Huh!

(swords grunting)

- Going well, isn't it?

- [Sword] Call yourself a magic sword?

Pah!

- [Liessa's Sword] Yeah, I do, actually.

- [Sword] 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.

- [Dragon] You summoned me, Master.

You have the power.

- You mean, I just thought of you and there you were?

- [Dragon] Yes.

- But I've thought of dragons all my life.

- [Dragon] 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!

(speaking gibberish)

- Oh, no, not you!

(soaring orchestral music)

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!

- [Sword] But, I didn't tell you about the time--

- Oh, the sword.

- You all right?

- Oh, yeah.

Come on, now!

- [Sword] Hello, magic sword here!

If anyone can hear me out there,

what I could do with right now is someone

who doesn't realize 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!

- [Death] It won't work.

You don't really believe in them.

- [Rincewind] Dragons!

- [Narrator] 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.

- [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.

- [Arch Astronomer] 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!

(water crashing) (dramatic music)

We're going to run out of world!

- We are?

I absolutely have to see that!

- [Rincewind] Help!

- Rincewind, Rincewind!

- [Death] Don't mind me, I've got a book to read.

- I don't want to leave this world!

- [Narrator] 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 organized 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.

(portentious music)

- [Weatherwax] Trymon.

Oh, dear.

- 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 insurance clerk

from Bes Pelargic could ever hope for.

(both laughing)

- 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.

- [Trymon] 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.

- Do you see the eighth color?

That's the color 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.

(whimsical music)

- Look.

- Civilization.

- Lovely to see you're still here, Arch Chancellor.

- Do you know what happens when a wizard dies?

- All the spells that he has memorized say themselves.

It's one of the first things we learn.

- Mm, 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.

(speaking gibberish)

- 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?

- [Librarian] Why are the spells so restless?

- The key. - Oh!

Oh!

(frantic music)

- [Twoflower] So, back in civilization.

- Yes, it looks like civilization 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.

(yelling) (grunting)

- [Rincewind] Come on!

- Oh!

(whimsical music)

- Here we are, completely trapped in a palace,

on an island we have no hope of leaving,

and, what's more, we,

Eh?

(mysterious music)

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.

(grunts)

- Ha! - Ha!

(crowd chanting) (rhythmic music)

- 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.

- [Twoflower] 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.

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 honored 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.

- [Twoflower] You don't think anyone's realised, do you?

- [Assistant] Guards, guards!

- [Twoflower] To the top of the ship!

They won't dare shoot at that.

- [Rincewind] I'm not, not for me.

I'm off.

Ah!

Perhaps you're right.

- To the library!

Quick!

Head Librarian?

- Ook.

- To the Great Hall!

(dramatic music)

- [Twoflower] I wonder if they're gonna send

the ship over the edge.

- Follow me! - This way!

- Surrender! - Stop, now!

- [Rincewind] This time, I'm definitely going to die.

- Surrender! - Go, go, go!

- [Rincewind] 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?

- [Twoflower] Yeah, that's it.

It oughta lift off now.

- Stop where you are! - Get down!

- What was that? - What was what?

- Thought I heard something.

- [Announcer] Twelve!

- [Rincewind] That's good! - Eleven!

- [Rincewind] Make it look like you're damaging it.

- Ten! - I think it's stuck.

- Nine! - 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?

- 8800 - And 88.

- Heave! - Nine!

- [Announcer] Nine, nine!

- [Rincewind] What was that?

- 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 got to

get off this thing!

- [Announcer] Two!

One!

Lift-off!

- No!

- The stars!

Worlds!

The whole damn sky, full of worlds!

Places no one's ever gonna see, except us!

- [Rincewind] Oh!

Oh, no!

(soaring orchestral music)

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.

(thunder rumbles)

- For the better, I think.

(Weatherwax screams)

- 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.

(dark, ominous music)