![]() ![]() ![]() With a distinct lack of Death comes a complete lack of any form of, um, death (sorry, I know, but I ran out of ideas) and it’s rather like taking the afterlife on the installment plan. It’s somewhat… expected, you know, as in monarchy one needs an actual monarch in order to have a monarchy, even though they aren’t necessarily required to be in your living room, in person, hogging the remote and demanding constant cups of tea. ![]() For death to carry on happening, there must actually be a Death. But unfortunately that’s not how things work, here at the edges of probability. So he decides to hoof it – you know, take a holiday without leaving a forwarding address – let the job take care of itself for a change. Well, I’ll have you know that Alfred is an excellent butler, but more on that sort of thing later.ĭeath has decided that being the personification of the end of all life and rider of the Pale Horse (Binky) is a bit of a drag: Everyone hates him his incredible memory (it works forwards into the future as well as backwards into the past, you know) means he can’t ever leave the job behind and enjoy the better things in li–- er, enjoy things on his time off his sartorial choices are by necessity quite limited and it’s not as if anyone considers him to be a convivial guest at parties. As if an anthropomorphic personification can have an existential crisis and leave in a fit of depressive angst. ![]() You know, tall guy, black robe, scythe, eyes that glow the colour of infinity (duck-egg blue, in case you were wondering), face like… death. Well, last words for that idiot at the Fool’s Guild who shall not be mentioned for the sake of the plot, at any rate.ĭeath is missing. They can’t kill us off yet! Come on, trust me! All I’m gonna do is look…”įamous last words, Rincewind, famous last words. “Nah, it’s not dangerous! It’s the start of the game. ![]()
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