Prologue
The Beginning
Summary: A young girl from the Shades of Discworld, the heart of thievery and cruelty in Ankh-Morpork discovers she has some strange things happening when she loses her temper…Rincewind finds her…well, more like she find Rincewind, and finds out about that nasty temper.
Author's Note: I'm a Discworld nut, so watch out, some of this may make no sense. I'm just making this up as I go, ya know. Also, the descriptions here are nothing close to Terry Pratchett's creative level, so be patient.
Disclaimer: We (I) at Nightingale Productions would like to say this: Creative genius is a weird thing, you know? Thank you and enjoy the show.
Sunrises on the Disc are different than anywhere else. Being as the world is mostly flat, the sun creeps up around the Hub, sneaks up on the trees, waits a moment, smiling to itself at its incredible smugness, and pounces on the landscape, oozing like a runny egg. That was the way it did that day, sneaking up on the Disc and waking up its inhabitants.
In Ankh-Morpork, the city wakes up, steps out of their homes and stretches, and then wanders back inside for some breakfast. Shop owners and booth tenders uncover their wagons and open their windows, and the first signs of life step out onto the street, ready for a day on the Disc.
Down the hallways of Unseen University, into the rooms of every young and old wizard living there, they yawn and roll over, warding away the sunlight as it streams through their windows and into their eyes. In one room, the Disc's first female wizard, Eskarina Smith is just waking up, wanting very much not to move but being prodded by Granny Weatherwax, her very inept "nanny," telling her she'll be late for lessons if she doesn't hurry it up.
And just on the outskirts of Ankh-Morpork, there's a small place no human being (or anything else, for that matter) wants to end up. The Shades, small and dirty, Pratchett calls it an " urban canker sore festering with criminal activity," which is basically what I call it. But hey, I'm not Pratchett.
Down the narrow streets, businessmen and women open up their swindler stores, only to sell stolen items and half-able animals.
And in a small house near the woods of Ankh-Morpork, the world's next female wizard, although much older than our Eskarina, rolls over in bed and sleeps, dreaming of nothing much.
