Player} Weresheep (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iamawizzard)
Age} 21
Other Characters} Raine Sage
Character Name} Rincewind (first name unknown)
Series} Discworld (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Discworld)
Canon Point} After The Last Continent
Age} Unknown, usually described as young (in his early 30's). As the characters age with realtime, however, this would currently put Rincewind in his 40's.
History} http://wiki.lspace.org/mediawiki/index.php/Rincewind
Personality} The character of Rincewind is a complicated yet simple task, much like the man himself. Polite yet cowardly, cynical yet sometimes unwilling to accept an end when faced with it. As much of his past is something that is not often talked about and is, frankly, not very important. Many of the bad things that have happened to him happened, and most of the even worse things happened fairly recently in his life anyhow and he has simply chosen to not think about them.
The biggest thing worth mentioning, however, is that "one" incident pretty much decided his entire life. In hindsight, everything in comparison is easy potatoes.
Early in his life at the Unseen University, Rincewind was conned by his fellow wizards into opening the Octavo--the most powerful tome in the Discworld, and arguably the universe. With the bet of a nice pint as the stake, he approached the unblessed book and opened it, sealing his fate forever. As one of the eight spells implanted itself into his mind, no other spell could fit inside. Now essentially cursed with one of the greatest yet UNUSUABLE magic spells, Rincewind never learned a single spell or passed any class. For at least a decade.
Embittered by his bet--even more so, since he never 'did' get that pint--the long, failing trudge through the Unseen University's curriculum became the defining point for ol' Rincewind.
Before the events of his first adventure, what is known about Rincewind is that he has near to no respect within the confines of the University itself. Recently, this has changed so that about two people in there respect him (not including the Librarian, who is an orangutan and therefore not a "people" in the traditional sense). Not a subject he brings up fairly often, but when it comes down to it, it is his entire motivating factor. If not quite obvious at first.
Truly, his cowardice knows no bounds. When something seems important and getting involved may at first seem like it could prove beneficial to a great many people, Rincewind would rather be the very first to skip town. However, despite what the papers may say, he often only ends up "accidentally" saving the day. This may be because one of his focuses when running away is to just think only immediately ahead--far enough to see where he's going, not nearly enough to see where he will end up.
A "normal" life is what Rincewind ultimately seeks. Or a life at all, for that matter. Magical doohickies, evil overlords and even the end of the world often seek to change that without so much as a polite "howdy do". Simply put, while it could be considered chivalrous or knightly to give up one's life for a cause, there's always about four more of those around the corner but one only has one life to spend. For Rincewind, simply living the life of a wizard was his great calling. Or "wizzard". It's the same thing, really, just an extra "z" from when he misspelled labeling his hat.
Rincewind: "Luck is my middle name. Mind you, my first name happens to be 'Bad'."
Yet, when it really comes down to it, his failure of a wizarding life is his greatest treasure. When faced with the repository of perfect magic in "Sourcery", Rincewind instead finally elaborated why he still remains a wizard despite not being able to use magic: That "wizard" was something you defined, not something that defines you. An average wizard may be powerful and knowledgeable in the arcane lore, and Rincewind is excessively the opposite, but it was something he always wanted to be, even if he was terrible at being a wizard. After all, he's done all the things a wizard does and seeks to accomplish, such as saving the day and defeating powerful enemies that threaten the Discworld at large, he just does it without magic.
When not asked to partake in some devilish task of heroism and reward, Rincewind is more or less fairly pleasant to be around. A fair gamer and someone rather easy to talk to, it's never said by anyone that he was ever a violent or rude person. Not one to take an insult without slinging one back, however, is usually when the politeness takes a backseat. This is all well within reason for any person, though. Whenever his neck isn't (immediately) on the line, Rincewind is known to get along quite well with his companions, even if they are from vastly different worlds. In "Sourcery", Rincewind is shown to have gotten along quite well with Conina, a large, strong willed young woman who aspired to be a hair dresser (and the daughter of one of his former companions), and they had only known each other for half a day at most.
He trusted her enough to start fixing up his own hair. With the full knowledge that her Barbarian blood could kick in at any moment and lop his whole hair off with a razor sharp knife. Or even his head!
Living in a world that is quite literally out to make a joke out of his life timer, Rincewind has become quite cynical and incredibly sarcastic about said cynicism for good measure. When faced with inevitability, when running currently isn't an option, Rincewind always finds the time to make some kind of retort to it all. At times, when meeting someone who says something rather incredulous, Rincewind always finds some kind of funny retort. Cultured by years of never finding a boring life, he is an absolute master of the art of sarcasm. There's hardly a moment where Rincewind expects the worst thing to happen to him, and he's usually right.
Twoflower: "It must have been Fate who brought you here!"
Rincewind: "Yes, it's the sort of thing he likes to do."
Despite his cynical behavior, Rincewind is never known to be unkind to children of any age. From teens to tots, he is either indifferent or otherwise completely harmless. He doesn't even think badly of them, other than the usual snide mental remark. At the end of Sourcery, the almighty young boy needed to be destroyed in order for the 2nd Mage War to come to an end. With a half brick in a sock in hand, he was about ready to do it. Of course it helped he had absolutely no chance to do so, Rincewind nonetheless placed little Coin's life above his own (truly, this was a shocking development in his life). When escaping from the Dungeon Dimensions, Rincewind allowed himself to distract the demons so Coin could escape. He thoroughly regrets this decision but doesn't exactly offer a good reason why he wouldn't do it again.
For some reason, Rincewind has an obsession with potatoes. Psychologically, he equates potatoes to sex, women, or quite possibly both. He is seeing a therapist about this.
Despite sometimes lying to make himself seem more important than he is (aka a deadly mistake on the Discworld), Rincewind is quite crafty. He is adept at making intelligent conversations with others and negotiate with others when it is appropriate and also accept things if they are reasonable. While not a capable fighter in the least, Rincewind nonetheless emphasizes the importance of using one's brain over others. As 999 out of 1000 of Rincewind's opponents are usually dull witted brutes, this gives him an advantage. Or at least an easier way out. When cornered by one such brute in the Broken Drum tavern, Rincewind distracted him by only pretending he was about to cast a spell just before knocking the dope in the crotch with a swift kick. One must always know their way out of a fight as far as Rincewind is concerned. It's usually his only concern, too.
Rincewind is also fairly well adjusted, able to blend in easily in any given environment and comment on the inherent silliness that surrounds his daily life without succumbing to it. Scenes often happen to him on a daily basis, but he is never the scene CAUSER, just the scene VICTIM OF CAUSALITY. When ludicrous ideas are abound, Rincewind can count on himself to try and anchor them more towards earth. With all of the precision of a blind man chasing after balloons that don't particularly wish to be caught by a screaming blind man.
He is not without his flaws, however. The cynicism can, at times, get a tad ridiculous. In the earliest books, Rincewind was completely deadset on avoiding taking responsibility for Twoflower, his charge, because he absolutely knew it was going to lead to trouble--and it did, so we can't argue--even if it meant leaving Twoflower in some very unfavorable company. His reckless abandon towards leaving people hanging when it would better suit him is a serious chink in the otherwise quite likeable Rincewind, a very selfish trait that he has worked through getting over as time went by. But in truth, his selfishness is quite the core of his flawed behavior. Rincey usually puts himself above others and this formed the basis of his character for...most of the books, actually. It's always "running from something...and then failing", only to redo this very behavior because he is scared witless of the next tidbit of trouble coming along.
The Wizzard has conned men out of their money, stolen a horse, tried to run out on his current companions several times, gotten one of history's greatest heroes stuck in Hell and even completely forgetting about his past companions all for the sake of his safety or personal gain.
It was a major surprise to the readers that Rincewind would completely forego his usual, characterized cowardice at the end of The Light Fantastic and, more recently, Sourcery, for the sake of somebody else. In fact, the former was more out of jealousy than anything else! The current Archchancellor Trymon had been possessed by denizens of the Dungeon Dimensions and had turned into a...'thing' that threatened the world. In a fit of rage that someone possessed all of the magic power he had ever wanted (and never got), he charged the monster and defeated it with the help of Twoflower.
This one incident aside, Rincewind is otherwise not known to be an angry fellow. Incredibly frustrated, perhaps, but not someone who often rages.
Abilities:
Technically speaking, Rincewind does not possess an assortment of qualities that could be considered "superpowers". While a wizard by and large, Rincewind cannot use magic at all. Magical objects or things that wizards can automatically use can be used by Rincewind only because either A) Anybody can use them, or B) Because wizards can use them. "Wizard" is more of a subspecies of human than anything else, much like the Magi of Nasuverse fame, in this case, because it is something handed down through generations and certain things are attuned to work for them and only them. Things like magic broomsticks can be used by Rincewind (as demonstrated in The Color of Magic), and in fact work just fine. His ability to utilize them, however, leaves much to be desired.
Despite being the worst wizard ever, Rincewind still possesses some knowledge of the arcane arts and a lot of history. When presented with a magical item, he is more often than not to know what it is, how it works, and who could have made it as much as any other wizard could.
Rincewind does, however, have the rather astounding courtesy of being the owner of The Luggage. A semi-sentient, homicidal chest that follows him wherever he goes. Much like a familiar, it protects Rincewind and will devour any attacks with disturbing efficiency. It isn't very effective at this job, however, as it is quite slow despite being indestructible (be it magic or otherwise). Bit of a slow to load cannon rather than a quick dozen arrows, but it's something at least.
Wizarding lineage grants only a meager few benefits. Most wizards are very fat and don't usually walk more than a few paces to get around the dining table and then back. Rincewind, on the other hand, does not have that benefit. After running from dangers from so long and not being able to magic them away has left Rincewind with the lowest wizarding rank possible but with the body of a long distance sprinter. Despite his aging, his body is still in terrific shape. Running for several minutes barely winds him even without a motivating factor or a finish line to cross. This hardly accounts for real physical strength as it's more of a lower body focus, though he's often described as quite healthy.
A lack of talents is not for Rincewind. His main talent is that for languages, which is not too unbefitting for a well traveled wizard such as himself. The narrator often quotes that Rincewind has a rather uncanny knack for picking up languages fast and then becoming fluent in them only slightly less fast. Conversing with others is never a problem for him as one of the many languages he knows will suit the situation. Dealing with Twoflower in the first book was possible because of this. And since many of the Discworld countries are fantasy counterparts to those found on Earth down to many customs and histories (they had an Odysseus and a Trojan War, just not in those names), he would not necessarily need anyone to translate for him--he is a cunning linguist.
"Rincewind could scream for mercy in nineteen languages, and just scream in another forty-four."
~Terry Pratchett, author of the Discworld series
Baggage} 1 x The Luggage (which has been recently emptied to accomodate everything he owns now)
1 x spare change of wizarding garments
1 x wizard hat (with the word "Wizzard" on it)
1 x Certificate of Teaching Degree at Unseen University
1 x Bundle of Letters from his previous companions
1 x Rubber duck
Notes} At the time of this writing, I imagine the head staff at Unseen Academicals are quite aware of Rincewind's "transference" to Japan in another world. To everyone except him, this was a mere unprompted "foreign exchange program" without their own foreign instructor showing up. And I find myself laughing. Just a humorous thought to brighten your day.
The Luggage is a not-quite-sentient, mysterious large chest made out of Sapient Pearwood--indestructible to magic and anything else otherwise--that is bound to Rincewind at the behest of its owner, Twoflower. Even were Rincewind to take a trip to the stars, The Luggage would always find its way to him somewhow. Even if it doesn't make any sense. It travels on hundreds of tiny, humanlike feet and has a drive to protect its owner by eating any possible intruders. As it is just one thing, however, it is not fast enough to drive away, say, twenty marauders at once. A couple at best.
In Conflation, I imagine it just follows him around without doing anything after he asked it to be "on his best behavior" (IE don't eat anybody here). I put this note here because, canon-wise, The Luggage specifically cannot leave Rincewind's presence. It can't leave his presence of its own volition because it doesn't have a volition and it is bound to Rincewind in much the same way a familiar is bound to their master.
Sample} (Kind of lengthy, takes place in a certain cafe named "Ahnenerbe"....I've joked about making something like this, only with Death instead of the Wizzard.)
"Ding-a-ling-a-ling!" went the door bell as another customer strolled in. A rather inviting sound, Rincewind thought, much unlike the usual opening noise that consisted of angry jowling and threatening words regarding the removal of one's precious leg muscles or valuables. Usually it was in the intention of the latter but always ended up the former. They never did stop just there, either.
A small, almost childlike creature that insisted on ending every sentence with the sound a cat makes had long since presented with him a menu of their rather reasonably priced meals. The easy part about reading a menu in a different language was knowing what the words meant; the difficult part was figuring out if their descriptions were literal or not. 'Black Silk' coffee did not seem particularly appetizing if that were the case.
Despite the original intent, a small portion of Rincewind really wanted a nice pint to himself. Did they have pints here? Or whatever the standard measuring unit equivalent was.
"The day's special, if it isn't too much trouble," he said to the...thing that was staring up at him, expectantly.
Rather than say anything, this particular thing merely nodded its head three times in such rapid succession as if to suggest that it was waiting all day to say "yes" and had found the perfect moment to let the urge overtake them. It took his menu and whisked itself off to elsewhere. Kind of a mirthful creature, really. The place was full of them. The way they pattered around on lopsided feet like they were trying to invent a new sport was like watching several goblins running around with facemasks on. And they weren't even trying to pickpocket anyone!
Only thing left to do was wait. There was a tea coming for him, though. Should be here any second, actually.
"Excuse me, sir..." came the voice of a young lady who couldn't be older than a teenager, "your order was..the orange tea, right?" Holding on a tray before her was, in fact, Rincewind's order. Surprised at first by her, erhm, manner of dress that wouldn't be out of place in a king's palace, the thought of the nice orange tea could outweigh any questions he may have had about this place's choice of employees. She really was quite nice, this lass. Her blonde hair was tightly knitted into a bun, the rest having had all of its possible stray ends neatly combed out into distant memory. Only thing that was out of place was a single, arrogant strand of hair that stood out to laugh in the face of gravity. The employee's comely face looked almost apologetic with the way she spoke.
With a slight nod in thanks, Rincewind took his beverage in the hopes that he could finally get something nice to drink for a change. So far, so good. The orange flavor in the tea wasn't bitter in the least. "A bit sweet," he said, and not much else. Her smile and bow showed she was a treat like....so many sweet potatoes...
"Ah..." said Rincewind, tipping the glass back again, "at last. A nice drink of tea in peace..."
Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as all that. A nice place to eat, a nice place to have a good sit down and, lest he forget, a rather enjoyable workforce.
...and maybe pigs could fly out of his arse, he thought.
This sudden realization came to pass as the roar of a mighty beast encapsulated the peaceful, lazy atmosphere of the cafe. Expecting it though he was, his nice glass still shook like the earth when the gods decided to have a golf outing out of Cori Celesti. Many of the other cafe-goers were similarly shocked. His ears rang like bells on wheels, causing him to lose control of his hands and spill a smidgen of his drink onto the table, bits at a time, until a rather sizable pool stood on his private table.
Setting the glass down softly Rincewind sighed. "....bugger me..." he said.
The mad shout broke the silence he had craved. What really brought the house down (literally) was when it was accompanied by seismic quakes that caused people to uncomfortably shift about, knocking their own drinks over, as well as bits of the room to come apart like dusty newspapers. Rincewind was out of his seat in seconds. Only it was completely accidental and involved falling on his bum.
Shaking harder than the building was, the Wizzard stood up to pardon himself and then proceed to try and convince himself this was all a bad dream, only to see the young employee bow before him in apology. "I am sorry, sir. Please, I will have this taken care of in just a moment. And I will have a new glass ready for you."
"Oh? Oh yes."
His glass had since fallen itself during this madhouse rendition of a sane place. And she looked so sincere in her allegations...
"Now if you will excuse me, there is something very important I need to take care of," the young lady said before suddenly gripping her hand as if holding a very large, sharp object and then ran out of the building in what has to be the world's leading record of exiting a building with minimal amount of steps. The maddening monster's scream was then joined with by the yelling of a young lady. Best not think about that one, Rincewind thought before sitting back down.
"Serving and security. Hm. Now that's a good for idea if I've ever seen one," he said, taking his hat off of his head.
"Cute, isn't she?"
Despite the cluster of excitement of the negative kind, a new young lady had taken her place just across from Rincewind, staring quite pleasurably at him with crimson eyes. Unlike the mayhem of the place surrounding them, she was smiling. And the very sound of her voice was less like a sarcastic quip and more like an invitation to dance at a very prestigious dinner party. "I b-beg your pardon?"
"Ah, you know. 'That girl'."
"Oh, yes. Quite. Shame about the atmosphere, though. Can't believe it all went to waste."
"Oh, it's always like this. Kind of fun, actually."
"And those are the words I had high hopes you'd never say. Are you sure it isn't like this only on...what day is it....Wednesday?"
The young woman--crimson red eyes never leaving Rincewind, or his out-of-place clothing for that matter--found him to be quite amusing. It almost distracted him from her likewise impossible blonde hairdo. There's also the fact she's dressed similarly to the small creatures mucking about. That would speak volumes if the little things had any meaningful thing to say.
"...I don't suppose I look tasty, do I?" he said, in a manner of jest.
"Yep. You're good enough to eat."
"You don't really mean that, of course."
"Oh, I mean it."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Is that why you're over here?"
"Maybe..."
The air seemed to shift at that moment. Rincewind suddenly felt as though the interesting young lady before him was more of a danger to him than the beast outside. There was, of course, just a million-to-one chance of that being true. And that is what Rincewind was most afraid of. There's the slim chance she was dieting. Can't rule that one out.
"I am a powerful and dignified magician, young lady!" he said, trying to sound tougher than she was. It certainly sounded convincing.
"Really? I had no idea." The young miss was less than impressed. She adjusted her interesting, blonde hair with a pinky.
"You're astute in the game of sarcasm, aren't you? Admit it--you came just to see my reaction, didn't you?"
Gleefully, the warm smile of the young lady became a very childish giggle. "Yep! You just look so FUNNY!"
"I wish you wouldn't bugger me with that. My other laundry is being taken care of at the moment."
"You know you spelled 'Wizard' wrong, right?"
"Good ol' Rincewind--at least in the pages of weirdness-attraction and consistency, you're on the first page, right above the book summary. With the title 'Mr. Author' in bold lettering just underneath."
Now, Rincewind thought, would be a good time to calculate how far he would have to run before this all would decide he was far enough away to stop being insanity incarnate. A good four hundred meter dash ought to be a good start, he decided.
iamawizzard)Age} 21
Other Characters} Raine Sage
Character Name} Rincewind (first name unknown)
Series} Discworld (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Discworld)
Canon Point} After The Last Continent
Age} Unknown, usually described as young (in his early 30's). As the characters age with realtime, however, this would currently put Rincewind in his 40's.
History} http://wiki.lspace.org/mediawiki/index.php/Rincewind
Personality} The character of Rincewind is a complicated yet simple task, much like the man himself. Polite yet cowardly, cynical yet sometimes unwilling to accept an end when faced with it. As much of his past is something that is not often talked about and is, frankly, not very important. Many of the bad things that have happened to him happened, and most of the even worse things happened fairly recently in his life anyhow and he has simply chosen to not think about them.
The biggest thing worth mentioning, however, is that "one" incident pretty much decided his entire life. In hindsight, everything in comparison is easy potatoes.
Early in his life at the Unseen University, Rincewind was conned by his fellow wizards into opening the Octavo--the most powerful tome in the Discworld, and arguably the universe. With the bet of a nice pint as the stake, he approached the unblessed book and opened it, sealing his fate forever. As one of the eight spells implanted itself into his mind, no other spell could fit inside. Now essentially cursed with one of the greatest yet UNUSUABLE magic spells, Rincewind never learned a single spell or passed any class. For at least a decade.
Embittered by his bet--even more so, since he never 'did' get that pint--the long, failing trudge through the Unseen University's curriculum became the defining point for ol' Rincewind.
Before the events of his first adventure, what is known about Rincewind is that he has near to no respect within the confines of the University itself. Recently, this has changed so that about two people in there respect him (not including the Librarian, who is an orangutan and therefore not a "people" in the traditional sense). Not a subject he brings up fairly often, but when it comes down to it, it is his entire motivating factor. If not quite obvious at first.
Truly, his cowardice knows no bounds. When something seems important and getting involved may at first seem like it could prove beneficial to a great many people, Rincewind would rather be the very first to skip town. However, despite what the papers may say, he often only ends up "accidentally" saving the day. This may be because one of his focuses when running away is to just think only immediately ahead--far enough to see where he's going, not nearly enough to see where he will end up.
A "normal" life is what Rincewind ultimately seeks. Or a life at all, for that matter. Magical doohickies, evil overlords and even the end of the world often seek to change that without so much as a polite "howdy do". Simply put, while it could be considered chivalrous or knightly to give up one's life for a cause, there's always about four more of those around the corner but one only has one life to spend. For Rincewind, simply living the life of a wizard was his great calling. Or "wizzard". It's the same thing, really, just an extra "z" from when he misspelled labeling his hat.
Yet, when it really comes down to it, his failure of a wizarding life is his greatest treasure. When faced with the repository of perfect magic in "Sourcery", Rincewind instead finally elaborated why he still remains a wizard despite not being able to use magic: That "wizard" was something you defined, not something that defines you. An average wizard may be powerful and knowledgeable in the arcane lore, and Rincewind is excessively the opposite, but it was something he always wanted to be, even if he was terrible at being a wizard. After all, he's done all the things a wizard does and seeks to accomplish, such as saving the day and defeating powerful enemies that threaten the Discworld at large, he just does it without magic.
When not asked to partake in some devilish task of heroism and reward, Rincewind is more or less fairly pleasant to be around. A fair gamer and someone rather easy to talk to, it's never said by anyone that he was ever a violent or rude person. Not one to take an insult without slinging one back, however, is usually when the politeness takes a backseat. This is all well within reason for any person, though. Whenever his neck isn't (immediately) on the line, Rincewind is known to get along quite well with his companions, even if they are from vastly different worlds. In "Sourcery", Rincewind is shown to have gotten along quite well with Conina, a large, strong willed young woman who aspired to be a hair dresser (and the daughter of one of his former companions), and they had only known each other for half a day at most.
He trusted her enough to start fixing up his own hair. With the full knowledge that her Barbarian blood could kick in at any moment and lop his whole hair off with a razor sharp knife. Or even his head!
Living in a world that is quite literally out to make a joke out of his life timer, Rincewind has become quite cynical and incredibly sarcastic about said cynicism for good measure. When faced with inevitability, when running currently isn't an option, Rincewind always finds the time to make some kind of retort to it all. At times, when meeting someone who says something rather incredulous, Rincewind always finds some kind of funny retort. Cultured by years of never finding a boring life, he is an absolute master of the art of sarcasm. There's hardly a moment where Rincewind expects the worst thing to happen to him, and he's usually right.
Rincewind: "Yes, it's the sort of thing he likes to do."
Despite his cynical behavior, Rincewind is never known to be unkind to children of any age. From teens to tots, he is either indifferent or otherwise completely harmless. He doesn't even think badly of them, other than the usual snide mental remark. At the end of Sourcery, the almighty young boy needed to be destroyed in order for the 2nd Mage War to come to an end. With a half brick in a sock in hand, he was about ready to do it. Of course it helped he had absolutely no chance to do so, Rincewind nonetheless placed little Coin's life above his own (truly, this was a shocking development in his life). When escaping from the Dungeon Dimensions, Rincewind allowed himself to distract the demons so Coin could escape. He thoroughly regrets this decision but doesn't exactly offer a good reason why he wouldn't do it again.
For some reason, Rincewind has an obsession with potatoes. Psychologically, he equates potatoes to sex, women, or quite possibly both. He is seeing a therapist about this.
Despite sometimes lying to make himself seem more important than he is (aka a deadly mistake on the Discworld), Rincewind is quite crafty. He is adept at making intelligent conversations with others and negotiate with others when it is appropriate and also accept things if they are reasonable. While not a capable fighter in the least, Rincewind nonetheless emphasizes the importance of using one's brain over others. As 999 out of 1000 of Rincewind's opponents are usually dull witted brutes, this gives him an advantage. Or at least an easier way out. When cornered by one such brute in the Broken Drum tavern, Rincewind distracted him by only pretending he was about to cast a spell just before knocking the dope in the crotch with a swift kick. One must always know their way out of a fight as far as Rincewind is concerned. It's usually his only concern, too.
Rincewind is also fairly well adjusted, able to blend in easily in any given environment and comment on the inherent silliness that surrounds his daily life without succumbing to it. Scenes often happen to him on a daily basis, but he is never the scene CAUSER, just the scene VICTIM OF CAUSALITY. When ludicrous ideas are abound, Rincewind can count on himself to try and anchor them more towards earth. With all of the precision of a blind man chasing after balloons that don't particularly wish to be caught by a screaming blind man.
He is not without his flaws, however. The cynicism can, at times, get a tad ridiculous. In the earliest books, Rincewind was completely deadset on avoiding taking responsibility for Twoflower, his charge, because he absolutely knew it was going to lead to trouble--and it did, so we can't argue--even if it meant leaving Twoflower in some very unfavorable company. His reckless abandon towards leaving people hanging when it would better suit him is a serious chink in the otherwise quite likeable Rincewind, a very selfish trait that he has worked through getting over as time went by. But in truth, his selfishness is quite the core of his flawed behavior. Rincey usually puts himself above others and this formed the basis of his character for...most of the books, actually. It's always "running from something...and then failing", only to redo this very behavior because he is scared witless of the next tidbit of trouble coming along.
The Wizzard has conned men out of their money, stolen a horse, tried to run out on his current companions several times, gotten one of history's greatest heroes stuck in Hell and even completely forgetting about his past companions all for the sake of his safety or personal gain.
It was a major surprise to the readers that Rincewind would completely forego his usual, characterized cowardice at the end of The Light Fantastic and, more recently, Sourcery, for the sake of somebody else. In fact, the former was more out of jealousy than anything else! The current Archchancellor Trymon had been possessed by denizens of the Dungeon Dimensions and had turned into a...'thing' that threatened the world. In a fit of rage that someone possessed all of the magic power he had ever wanted (and never got), he charged the monster and defeated it with the help of Twoflower.
This one incident aside, Rincewind is otherwise not known to be an angry fellow. Incredibly frustrated, perhaps, but not someone who often rages.
Abilities:
Technically speaking, Rincewind does not possess an assortment of qualities that could be considered "superpowers". While a wizard by and large, Rincewind cannot use magic at all. Magical objects or things that wizards can automatically use can be used by Rincewind only because either A) Anybody can use them, or B) Because wizards can use them. "Wizard" is more of a subspecies of human than anything else, much like the Magi of Nasuverse fame, in this case, because it is something handed down through generations and certain things are attuned to work for them and only them. Things like magic broomsticks can be used by Rincewind (as demonstrated in The Color of Magic), and in fact work just fine. His ability to utilize them, however, leaves much to be desired.
Despite being the worst wizard ever, Rincewind still possesses some knowledge of the arcane arts and a lot of history. When presented with a magical item, he is more often than not to know what it is, how it works, and who could have made it as much as any other wizard could.
Rincewind does, however, have the rather astounding courtesy of being the owner of The Luggage. A semi-sentient, homicidal chest that follows him wherever he goes. Much like a familiar, it protects Rincewind and will devour any attacks with disturbing efficiency. It isn't very effective at this job, however, as it is quite slow despite being indestructible (be it magic or otherwise). Bit of a slow to load cannon rather than a quick dozen arrows, but it's something at least.
Wizarding lineage grants only a meager few benefits. Most wizards are very fat and don't usually walk more than a few paces to get around the dining table and then back. Rincewind, on the other hand, does not have that benefit. After running from dangers from so long and not being able to magic them away has left Rincewind with the lowest wizarding rank possible but with the body of a long distance sprinter. Despite his aging, his body is still in terrific shape. Running for several minutes barely winds him even without a motivating factor or a finish line to cross. This hardly accounts for real physical strength as it's more of a lower body focus, though he's often described as quite healthy.
A lack of talents is not for Rincewind. His main talent is that for languages, which is not too unbefitting for a well traveled wizard such as himself. The narrator often quotes that Rincewind has a rather uncanny knack for picking up languages fast and then becoming fluent in them only slightly less fast. Conversing with others is never a problem for him as one of the many languages he knows will suit the situation. Dealing with Twoflower in the first book was possible because of this. And since many of the Discworld countries are fantasy counterparts to those found on Earth down to many customs and histories (they had an Odysseus and a Trojan War, just not in those names), he would not necessarily need anyone to translate for him--he is a cunning linguist.
~Terry Pratchett, author of the Discworld series
Baggage} 1 x The Luggage (which has been recently emptied to accomodate everything he owns now)
1 x spare change of wizarding garments
1 x wizard hat (with the word "Wizzard" on it)
1 x Certificate of Teaching Degree at Unseen University
1 x Bundle of Letters from his previous companions
1 x Rubber duck
Notes} At the time of this writing, I imagine the head staff at Unseen Academicals are quite aware of Rincewind's "transference" to Japan in another world. To everyone except him, this was a mere unprompted "foreign exchange program" without their own foreign instructor showing up. And I find myself laughing. Just a humorous thought to brighten your day.
The Luggage is a not-quite-sentient, mysterious large chest made out of Sapient Pearwood--indestructible to magic and anything else otherwise--that is bound to Rincewind at the behest of its owner, Twoflower. Even were Rincewind to take a trip to the stars, The Luggage would always find its way to him somewhow. Even if it doesn't make any sense. It travels on hundreds of tiny, humanlike feet and has a drive to protect its owner by eating any possible intruders. As it is just one thing, however, it is not fast enough to drive away, say, twenty marauders at once. A couple at best.
In Conflation, I imagine it just follows him around without doing anything after he asked it to be "on his best behavior" (IE don't eat anybody here). I put this note here because, canon-wise, The Luggage specifically cannot leave Rincewind's presence. It can't leave his presence of its own volition because it doesn't have a volition and it is bound to Rincewind in much the same way a familiar is bound to their master.
Sample} (Kind of lengthy, takes place in a certain cafe named "Ahnenerbe"....I've joked about making something like this, only with Death instead of the Wizzard.)
"Ding-a-ling-a-ling!" went the door bell as another customer strolled in. A rather inviting sound, Rincewind thought, much unlike the usual opening noise that consisted of angry jowling and threatening words regarding the removal of one's precious leg muscles or valuables. Usually it was in the intention of the latter but always ended up the former. They never did stop just there, either.
A small, almost childlike creature that insisted on ending every sentence with the sound a cat makes had long since presented with him a menu of their rather reasonably priced meals. The easy part about reading a menu in a different language was knowing what the words meant; the difficult part was figuring out if their descriptions were literal or not. 'Black Silk' coffee did not seem particularly appetizing if that were the case.
Despite the original intent, a small portion of Rincewind really wanted a nice pint to himself. Did they have pints here? Or whatever the standard measuring unit equivalent was.
"The day's special, if it isn't too much trouble," he said to the...thing that was staring up at him, expectantly.
Rather than say anything, this particular thing merely nodded its head three times in such rapid succession as if to suggest that it was waiting all day to say "yes" and had found the perfect moment to let the urge overtake them. It took his menu and whisked itself off to elsewhere. Kind of a mirthful creature, really. The place was full of them. The way they pattered around on lopsided feet like they were trying to invent a new sport was like watching several goblins running around with facemasks on. And they weren't even trying to pickpocket anyone!
Only thing left to do was wait. There was a tea coming for him, though. Should be here any second, actually.
"Excuse me, sir..." came the voice of a young lady who couldn't be older than a teenager, "your order was..the orange tea, right?" Holding on a tray before her was, in fact, Rincewind's order. Surprised at first by her, erhm, manner of dress that wouldn't be out of place in a king's palace, the thought of the nice orange tea could outweigh any questions he may have had about this place's choice of employees. She really was quite nice, this lass. Her blonde hair was tightly knitted into a bun, the rest having had all of its possible stray ends neatly combed out into distant memory. Only thing that was out of place was a single, arrogant strand of hair that stood out to laugh in the face of gravity. The employee's comely face looked almost apologetic with the way she spoke.
With a slight nod in thanks, Rincewind took his beverage in the hopes that he could finally get something nice to drink for a change. So far, so good. The orange flavor in the tea wasn't bitter in the least. "A bit sweet," he said, and not much else. Her smile and bow showed she was a treat like....so many sweet potatoes...
"Ah..." said Rincewind, tipping the glass back again, "at last. A nice drink of tea in peace..."
Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as all that. A nice place to eat, a nice place to have a good sit down and, lest he forget, a rather enjoyable workforce.
...and maybe pigs could fly out of his arse, he thought.
This sudden realization came to pass as the roar of a mighty beast encapsulated the peaceful, lazy atmosphere of the cafe. Expecting it though he was, his nice glass still shook like the earth when the gods decided to have a golf outing out of Cori Celesti. Many of the other cafe-goers were similarly shocked. His ears rang like bells on wheels, causing him to lose control of his hands and spill a smidgen of his drink onto the table, bits at a time, until a rather sizable pool stood on his private table.
Setting the glass down softly Rincewind sighed. "....bugger me..." he said.
The mad shout broke the silence he had craved. What really brought the house down (literally) was when it was accompanied by seismic quakes that caused people to uncomfortably shift about, knocking their own drinks over, as well as bits of the room to come apart like dusty newspapers. Rincewind was out of his seat in seconds. Only it was completely accidental and involved falling on his bum.
Shaking harder than the building was, the Wizzard stood up to pardon himself and then proceed to try and convince himself this was all a bad dream, only to see the young employee bow before him in apology. "I am sorry, sir. Please, I will have this taken care of in just a moment. And I will have a new glass ready for you."
"Oh? Oh yes."
His glass had since fallen itself during this madhouse rendition of a sane place. And she looked so sincere in her allegations...
"Now if you will excuse me, there is something very important I need to take care of," the young lady said before suddenly gripping her hand as if holding a very large, sharp object and then ran out of the building in what has to be the world's leading record of exiting a building with minimal amount of steps. The maddening monster's scream was then joined with by the yelling of a young lady. Best not think about that one, Rincewind thought before sitting back down.
"Serving and security. Hm. Now that's a good for idea if I've ever seen one," he said, taking his hat off of his head.
"Cute, isn't she?"
Despite the cluster of excitement of the negative kind, a new young lady had taken her place just across from Rincewind, staring quite pleasurably at him with crimson eyes. Unlike the mayhem of the place surrounding them, she was smiling. And the very sound of her voice was less like a sarcastic quip and more like an invitation to dance at a very prestigious dinner party. "I b-beg your pardon?"
"Ah, you know. 'That girl'."
"Oh, yes. Quite. Shame about the atmosphere, though. Can't believe it all went to waste."
"Oh, it's always like this. Kind of fun, actually."
"And those are the words I had high hopes you'd never say. Are you sure it isn't like this only on...what day is it....Wednesday?"
The young woman--crimson red eyes never leaving Rincewind, or his out-of-place clothing for that matter--found him to be quite amusing. It almost distracted him from her likewise impossible blonde hairdo. There's also the fact she's dressed similarly to the small creatures mucking about. That would speak volumes if the little things had any meaningful thing to say.
"...I don't suppose I look tasty, do I?" he said, in a manner of jest.
"Yep. You're good enough to eat."
"You don't really mean that, of course."
"Oh, I mean it."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Is that why you're over here?"
"Maybe..."
The air seemed to shift at that moment. Rincewind suddenly felt as though the interesting young lady before him was more of a danger to him than the beast outside. There was, of course, just a million-to-one chance of that being true. And that is what Rincewind was most afraid of. There's the slim chance she was dieting. Can't rule that one out.
"I am a powerful and dignified magician, young lady!" he said, trying to sound tougher than she was. It certainly sounded convincing.
"Really? I had no idea." The young miss was less than impressed. She adjusted her interesting, blonde hair with a pinky.
"You're astute in the game of sarcasm, aren't you? Admit it--you came just to see my reaction, didn't you?"
Gleefully, the warm smile of the young lady became a very childish giggle. "Yep! You just look so FUNNY!"
"I wish you wouldn't bugger me with that. My other laundry is being taken care of at the moment."
"You know you spelled 'Wizard' wrong, right?"
"Good ol' Rincewind--at least in the pages of weirdness-attraction and consistency, you're on the first page, right above the book summary. With the title 'Mr. Author' in bold lettering just underneath."
Now, Rincewind thought, would be a good time to calculate how far he would have to run before this all would decide he was far enough away to stop being insanity incarnate. A good four hundred meter dash ought to be a good start, he decided.
