Lankin. An elf. High cheekbones, a perfect nose and a ponytail. He wears odds and ends of rags and lace and fur, confident in the knowledge that anything looks good on an elf. Like all elves, totally self-confident and immensely cruel – but with style, so that’s OK. [LL]
Larsnephew, Lars. ‘Father of Exploration’. He himself never travelled further than ten miles from the village of NoThing, in NoThingfjord, where he was born. He managed, however, to inspire one of the most sustained periods of exploration in the history of the Disc. He was not so much an explorer as the cause of exploration in other people. This is thought to be due to his mastery of the art of ancient sagas, some of which could last several years. The mere sight of Lars looking thoughtful was enough to send local people dashing to their longboats and rowing desperately for the open sea. Most of them later grounded on islands which, while often hospitable, had the major advantage of not containing Lars Larsnephew. [DM]
Lasgere. A former prince of Tsort. Killed by a slave during an experiment in ‘learning while you sleep’; the slave’s duty was to read to him all night. What Lasgere presumably did learn was that it is not a good idea for the slave to be armed with a knife. [SG]
Launch Controller. Official of KRULL who was responsible for the planning of the launch of the Potent Voyager from Krull. He was a practical magician, rather than a diplomat. [COM]
Lavaeolus. The finest military mind on the continent of KLATCH. When first seen, he was wearing tarnished armour and a grubby cloak. The helmet plume looked as though it had been used as a paintbrush. He was skinny, with all the military bearing of a deckchair.
His genius consisted of realising that, if there has to be a war, the aim should be to defeat the enemy as quickly and with as little bloodshed as possible – a concept so breathtaking in its originality that few other military minds have been able to grasp it, and it shows what happens when you take the conduct of a war away from skilled soldiers.
He was a hero of the Tsortean Wars, which he ended by bribing a cleaner to show him a secret passage into the citadel of TSORT. So not many people actually died during its capture, which means it couldn’t have been that much of a victory, really.
It is possible that he is an ancestor of RINCEWIND. [P, E]
Lavatory, Sir Charles. Owner of C. H. Lavatory & Son, Mollymog Street, Ankh-Morpork, and president of the PLUMBERS’ GUILD. Invented the first really efficient flushing toilet, which was therefore named after him. Of course, flushing a lavatory in Ankh-Morpork is not likely to make things any better.
A remarkable parallel with Thomas Crapper, the Victorian sanitary engineer who also lent his name to the more modern version of the privy (although the term ‘crapper’ in that sense dates back at least to the sixteenth century. Perhaps Thomas got teased a lot at school and decided that if he was going to bear this name through life, then he’d damn well see to it that it was one to be proud of). [SM]
Lavish, Cosmo. Step-son of Topsy Lavish and brother to Pucci Lavish (from whom he was forbidden, by court injunction from coming within twenty yards). He has made a detailed study of Lord Vetinari and is one of his biggest admirers.
Cosmo Lavish is cool, or at least makes a spirited effort to be so. He wears black, of course, as people do to show how rich they are, but the real giveaway is the beard. It is, technically, a goatee, but so exotic that it would have to be a very rare sort of goat, that maybe lived on high vertical cliff and had wool so fine that you’d have to shave five of them before you could knit a scarf. A thin line of black hair comes down each cheek, makes a detour to loop equally thinly under the nose and meets in a black triangle just below the lip, thus giving what Cosmo must have thought was a look of menacing elegance but in fact creates the effect of a pubic chin.
It is a high maintenance beard, even so. It isn’t the beard of a man who has to get to work in a hurry. Some master barber has to deal with it hair by hair every day, and his job isn’t made any easier by the fact that Cosmo has inflated somewhat since the day he adopted the style. There is a time in a thoughtless young man’s life when his sixpack becomes a keg, and now the elegant facial topiary floats unhappily on a layer of fat. Cosmo is heavy bearded, too, so his jowls are usually blue. And yes, little tiny beads of sweat glint amongst the stubble.
And then you see the eyes, and they make up for everything. They have the faraway look of a man who can already see you dead . . . [MM]
Lavish, Pucci. Step-daughter of Topsy Lavish and sister to Cosmo Lavish – who views her as a fiend in technically human shape. She is forbidden, by court injunction, from coming within fifteen yards of Cosmo. Pucci has a voice like a saw encountering a nail, with a slight additional touch of foghorn and is always referred to as ‘a society beauty’, which shows just how rich the Lavishes are. Cut in half, she might make two society beauties but not, at that point, very beautiful ones. While it is said that men she had spurned jumped off bridges in despair, the only person known to have said this is Pucci herself.
She is a ‘large girl’ and is blessed with beady, suspicious little eyes and a generous upper lip which combine with the long neck to put the honest observer in mind of a duck who’s just been offended by a passing trout.
Someone should have told her that black is not her colour, that the expensive fur could have looked better on its original owners, that if you are going to wear high heels then this week’s fashion tip is don’t wear sunglasses at the same time because when you walk out of the bright sunlight into the relative gloom of, say, a bank, you will lose all sense of direction and impale the foot of one of your own bodyguards. Someone should have told her, in fact, that true style comes from within. You can’t buy it. Pucci can flounce better than a fat turkey on a trampoline. [MM]
Lavish, Topsy, Mrs. (Née Turvy) Widow of Sir Joshua Lavish and step-mother to Pucci and Cosmo. She was a very small, very elderly, grey-haired woman with thin little hands. Moist VON LIPWIG classes her as a ‘Mark I Feisty Old Lady’, turkey neck, embarrassing sense of humour, a gleeful pleasure in mild cruelty, direct way of speaking that flirts with rudeness and, more importantly, also flirts with flirting. Game for anything that doesn’t carry the risk of falling over and with a look in her eye that says ‘I can do what I like, because I am old.’ She used to own or control 51 per cent of the shares in the Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork and she was the original owner of Mr FUSSPOT. [MM]
Lawn, Dr Mossy. Doctor Lawn lived in Twinkle Street, Ankh-Morpork but has moved to premises in Goose Gate, which he intends to open as a hospital. Wears the traditional long black robe and silly floppy hat, but has some radical new ideas about washing hands and keeping patients alive even beyond the time needed to get paid. Lawn’s customers are at the bottom end of Ankh-Morpork society, in several senses. He is the unofficial doctor to the SEAMSTRESSES’ GUILD and, now, to Her Grace the Duchess of Ankh-Morpork. It’s amazing how rich you can become if you’re in the right place with the right skills at the right time. [NW]
Law of Unequal Returns. A growing cause of friction in Ankh-Morpork. Let us say the rate for a job is five dollars a day. To a dwarf, the five dollars is worth rather more because, although dwarfs have much the same appetites as humans, they have much reduced accommodation expenses. This has always been noticed but has not led to much trouble; it is the recent influx of gnomes and goblins that has really brought the problem to light.
In trades like watchmaking and rat-catching, for example, very small people are not only at an advantage but in practical terms their wages are worth a lot more.
A dollar buys a man a big loaf. To him it is a meal. The same loaf at the same price is, to a gnome, bread for a week and can also be hollowed out to make temporary accommodation for his family. In occupations where small size and tiny fingers are a positive advantage (engraving, fine lacemaking and so on) gnomes can both undercut human competition and yet live very stylishly.
There is clearly going to be trouble.
Laws of Ankh-Morpork. There aren’t any.
&nbs
p; Well . . .
Not entirely true. There aren’t any now, except in the almost iconographic memory of Captain CARROT of the City WATCH. There are Guild laws, administered by the various Guilds and often the cause of friction between them (see VETINARI, LORD), but laws in the modern sense have gone out of fashion in the last several hundred years. The city is not, however, lawless. It more or less runs on the ‘Patrician’s Rules’. Lord Vetinari takes the unvoiced view that most citizens are guilty of something, or just generally guilty in a low-grade way. If there is a crime, then there ought to be seen to be a punishment; if the punishment can involve the actual perpetrator of the crime then this is a happy state of affairs, but it is not essential. Anything that threatens the city in any way – be it a man, a philosophy or a device – is ‘against the law’.
Beyond that, Lord Vetinari believes in a common or natural law; if a man can sell short-weight bread and get away with it, then get away with it he does. If, however, his defrauded customers decide to nail him to his own ceiling, then that is fine, too.
The known and somewhat fossilised laws of Ankh-Morpork are:
Being Bloody Stupid Act, 1581
Decency Ordinances, 1389
Dignity of Man (Civil Rights) Act, 1341
Domestic & Domesticated Animals (Care & Protection) Act, 1673
Gambling (Regulations) Acts
General Felonies Act, 1678
Industrial Processes Act, 1508
Licensed Premises (Hygiene) Acts, 1433, 1456, 1463, 1465 and 1470-1690
Privacy Act, 1467
Projectile Weapons (Civil Safety) Act, 1634
Public Ale Houses (Opening) Act, 1678
Public Forgatherings (Gambling) Act, 1567
Public Order Act, 1457
They are listed merely for completeness.
THE SYSTEM OF JUSTICE
1. Criminal Justice.
As explained, there is none.
Although the current system in Ankh-Morpork consists almost entirely of ‘Guild Justice’ enforced by the city’s Guilds, it is still the case that criminals taken by the Watch may opt to stand for trial before the PATRICIAN.
The accused may, if they have money, employ a member of the Guild of Lawyers (motto: LVCRE SERMAT [Money Talks]) to speak on their behalf. If they wish to be found not guilty they will often need large reserves of money. The long-held principle is very clear – the more money you have, the more likely you are to be innocent. This is considered right and proper by the Guild, because rich people are an asset to society and there are far too many poor people around in any case, and they’re probably all criminals.
If the accused has no money, then their only hope is if the Patrician decides in their favour. He quite often does so, because he finds it instructive to all concerned.
As indicated elsewhere, there is no formal system of criminal law in the city. Nor is there any recognised scale of punishment. Imprisonment is viewed as a school for criminals and a drain on the state, and so therefore most punishments are a fine or a flogging. There are a number of specialised punishments, of which the scorpion pit is the best known, but for offences of a sexual nature, particularly against minors, the usual recourse is the traditional tree, jar of honey and herd of cows.
Occasionally – but rarely – other ancient punishments are resurrected for deserving cases. A classic one is tying the offender to one of the pillars of the Brass Bridge at low tide and untying him twenty-four hours later, at which point he is free to go.
The death penalty is usually reserved for treachery to the city, continuing to commit murder after being told not to, irredeemable stupidity while not being a troll, and persistent street theatre.
2. Civil Justice.
A state whose citizens are as perennially indignant and argumentative as are Ankh-Morpork’s is bound to have a thriving Civil bench, and this is where the Guild of Lawyers make their real money. Cases are usually heard before a Court of Magisters (for poor people) or before a senior member of the Guild who has been appointed by the Patrician to serve as a judge.
(Since this is a fixed salary post, this means that the appointee suffers an effective drop in income, barring bribes, of course. Thus appointment to the role of judge is usually used by the Patrician as a form of mild rebuke to lawyers who have failed him in one way or another.)
3. The Historical System.
In the very early days of Ankh-Morpork justice was dispensed by the ARCHCHANCELLOR’S Court (see UNSEEN UNIVERSITY). There then followed a system set up under the city’s monarchy, and many of today’s traditions and titles date from that period. A three-tier system of justice prevailed:
i. Small cases, involving the common citizens, would be heard by the Court of Magisters (or Justices of the King’s Peace), made up of men of the city’s ruling classes. These JKPs would carry a nosegay into court, to ward off the offensive smell of the lower orders. As Ankh-Morpork got bigger, sometimes three or four people were needed to carry the flowers.
ii. Larger cases, involving the wealthier members of society, would be pleaded on their behalf by trained legal experts from the Guild of Lawyers. These experts, known as pleaders (who wore robes with a purse sewn into the upper-left back, so that their fee could be dropped in without them having to be seen handling filthy lucre), carried the title of Serjeant (a corruption of their old title of servientes Regis ad legem). They were the only people entitled to plead cases before one of the King’s Judges. The King’s Judges were reputed to be the finest judges that money could buy and they were often employed by other kings and queens in the STO PLAINS.
iii. Ultimate recourse was to the King, who would hear their pleadings in the Rats Chamber (so called because of the fresco of dancing rats painted on its ceiling). A vestige of this system still prevails in that the Patrician is the last court of appeal.
Reference is still made to the ‘Inns of Court’. These were the ale-houses surrounding the Court House from which accused people would try to entice drunken lawyers with offers of hard cash.
The Ankh-Morpork Armoury
COURTS AND PRISONS
The old and derelict Ankh-Morpork Court House was taken over by the THIEVES’ GUILD as their headquarters in the time of Lord Vetinari. Large and probably profitable court cases are now heard in a courtroom within the Guild of Lawyers.
There used to be a large prison (now private houses) around Sybil Lane near Hen and Chickens Field. The field got its name from the frequent processions to the gallows there, when the priest of choice would walk ahead of the gaggle of warders and accused, like ‘a hen and her chicks’. This is how proper old cities name their places; they wouldn’t dream of calling something First Avenue just because they’d got a lot of avenues and it was the first.
For the few individuals it is necessary to lock up, the modern prison, originally a royal palace called Tintement but now known as The Tanty, is on the Rim Bank. Its current head warder is an enlightened man who practises an intensive counselling and caring approach, subsequent to which many prisoners apply briskly for the cow and honey cure.
Lawsy Family. Mrs Angeline is the widow of a Mr Lawsy, an eel juggler. Their offspring, Henry, who works as a clerk in the firm of Morecombe, Slant and Honeyplace, is actually the result of a liaison with Henry SLUGG. [M!!!!!]
Legba. A large, black cockerel. Familiar of Mrs GOGOL. [WA]
Legibus. An Ephebian philosopher and author of Geometries. A little man with a beard you could camp out in. He is quite old, and resembles a frog which has been dried out for some time. Something about him generally makes people think of the word ‘spry’. [SG]
LeJean, Lady Myria. Originally an AUDITOR of Reality, she adopted human form to undertake a task for the Auditors. She was later named ‘Unity’ by Susan STO HELIT. In human form, she has long black hair cascading over her shoulders and she is quite attractive, in a monochromatic sort of way. Strictly speaking, she was an Auditor sent to learn more about being human; what she learned, in summary, was that s
he never wanted to go back to being an Auditor. Oh . . . and that there was such a thing as chocolate.
Lemon, Satchelmouth. The recruiting and enforcement officer for the Musicians’ Guild, Ankh-Morpork. [SM]
Leonard of Quirm. (Aka Leonard da Quirm.) A painter and inventor; the greatest Discworld technological genius of all time. He had a house in the Street of Cunning Artificers, Ankh-Morpork, but currently resides in an attic in the PATRICIAN’S PALACE.
This may be considered cruel, but in many ways it is quite impossible to imprison someone like Leonard. Give him enough wood, wire, paints, drawing materials, food, a potty and a window through which he can watch the birds and it’s unlikely that he will even notice. It’s a large attic, airy and bright and cheerful with sunlight from windows in the roof. It’s a sort of cross between a workshop and a store room. Several bird skeletons hang from the ceiling; there are other bones on the work tables, along with coils of wire and metal springs and tubes of paint and more tools – many probably unique – than you normally see in any one place. There is also a narrow bed, wedged between a thing like a loom with wings and a large bronze statue.
In appearance, he is clearly one of those people who started to look old around the age of thirty. He is not exactly bald. He has a lot of hair, long and curly and reaching almost to his shoulders. And he has a beard large enough to conceal a small chicken. His head has just grown up through his hair.
One of his achievements is the well-known painting the Mona Ogg (her teeth are said to follow you round the room), currently in the PATRICIAN’S collection. It is believed that Nanny OGG had not as yet visited Ankh-Morpork when this work was first brought to our attention; this may be some other Ogg which, considering the fecundity of the Ogg tribe, is quite likely. However, there have also been hints that the young Leonard went on sketching holidays in the mountains during his youth, and there is no doubt that if he had ever been within ten miles of the young Gytha Ogg he would have heard about her.
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