Мор - ученик смерти

           Ofcourse,allthatwasbehindthemnow,buttheGuildofMerchants’annualknife-and-forksupperwouldhavebeenheldintheDrum’supstairsroomthefollowingevening,andalltheEighthLevelwizardshadbeensentcomplimentarytickets;therewouldhavebeenroastswanandtwokindsoftrifleandlotsoffraternaltoaststo’Ouresteemed,nay,distinguishedguests’untilitwastimeforthecollegeporterstoturnupwiththewheelbarrows.

           Albertstruttedalongtherow,pokingtheoccasionalpaunchwithhisstaff.Hisminddancedandsang.Goback?Never!Thiswaspower,thiswasliving;he’dchallengeoldbonifaceandspitinhisemptyeye.

           ’BytheSmokingMirrorofGrism,there’sgoingtobeafewchangesaroundhere!’

           Thosewizardswhohadstudiedhistorynoddeduncomfortably.Itwouldbebacktothestonefloorsandgettingupwhenitwasstilldarkandnoalcoholunderanycircumstancesandmemorisingthetruenamesofeverythinguntilthebrainsqueaked.

           ’What’sthatmandoing!’

           Awizardwhohadabsent-mindedlyreachedforhistobaccopouchletthehalf-formedcigarettefallfromhistremblingfingers.ItbouncedwhenithitthefloorandallthewizardswatcheditrollwithlongingeyesuntilAlbertsteppedforwardsmartlyandsquashedit.

           Albertspunround.Rincewind,whohadbeenfollowinghimasasortofunofficialadjutant,nearlywalkedintohim.

           ’You!Rincething!D’yersmoke?’

           ’No,sir!Filthyhabit!’Rincewindavoidedthegazeofhissuperiors.