Death Of The Idiot Wizzard

Description:

Rincewind finds himself in a discworld take on the Hunger Games, and once again calls upon his skills of running away.

Introduction : The Box

There he was.

In some completely mysterious and unknown place, never before seen by anyone but him, or some crap like that.

Rincewind was getting tired of this, it was always the same, completely unoriginal. Someone with some supreme power was trying to use or kill him and he never knew what for, either. Was there some kind of 'lets kill Rincewind club' out there? Honestly it was getting too much.

Finally, by a slim majority vote (the eyes and the brain didn't want to do any work, but the intestines wanted something to eat), he opened his eyes. He was so surprised that he shut them again, and after a while reopened them. Nothing had changed. He was in a white cube, about 2 metres in all directions, and that was as far as description goes. It was the most boring thing he'd ever seen, even the beaurocratic hell seemed like a something incredibly fun (fun enough to invent a new word for extremely fun) compared to this. There was nothing, no doors, no windows, not even a raised surface that he could call a bed.

Death by boredom.

Now that was original.

Well no, actually, it was so unoriginal that you never expected anything but a sad little cliché, but no there was nothing.

He decided to do a checklist, a Rincewind checklist:

Can you breathe? Yes.

Is the area flooding? No.

Is it full of horrible monsters? No.

Is the luggage here? No.

Is it at all dangerous in any way? No, unless you were afraid of nothing.

Is there anything to eat? He didn't think so, unless the walls were edible. It's not like there was anything else to eat anyway.

Can you run away? Not really, unless you only needed to run about 2 metres, so no.

Apart from the last 2 points, he thought he was quite well off. He began to wonder where the light was coming from, that allowed him to see the remarkable vista of white walls, and to think of it, the air was coming from apparently nowhere seeing as there was no ventilation. But that wasn't important now, he needed to quench his insatiable thirst for hunger. Food! He needed food. He poked the wall, it was , understandably, hard. Not intrusive hard, but a hard that demonstrates integrity in this wall, one that is not a good idea to run at. He did the most sensible thing, he ran at it. It was surprisingly soft for a hard wall and no pain came to his extended family of nerves. Somebody didn't want him hurt either. There was a tingle of fear that came with that realization, no one wanted Rincewind unharmed or even alive unless they really needed him, and that didn't tend to be to have a cup of tea and discuss the weather either.

He screamed, just to let it all out, and when he regained his senses, he said in his own signature way "Hello?" Nothing happened, aside from Rincewind confirming to himself that he could still talk.

He knocked on the wall.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Nothing happened. But then all of a sudden, in a seamless, mechanical way, part of the wall slid open.

Rincewind gasped. That wasn't supposed to happen, he was supposed to find no way out, and in that exact moment of realization, have the room fill with water whilst the antagonist explained their evil plan to him, and in the process give him just enough time to escape heroically, (or more likely the opposite, Rincewindishley).

The other side of the wall was completely black, which was a welcome change to the white everywhere else, but emitted an air of "you really shouldn't go in here, or you'll die a horrible death involving anchovies (or something equally horrible)" sort of feel. He hesitated for a moment, but when he thought "There could be food on the other side", he confidently secured his hat and set off into the darkness.

He had no idea what he was getting into.

He never did.