Wheedown, Blert. Author of a guitar primer and a highly skilled maker of guitars. When Music With Rocks In hit Ankh-Morpork he found that, for a certain type of guitarist, how the instrument looks is far, far more important than how it sounds. It made him want to cry, especially since it made him rich. [SM]
Wheelbrace, Eric. Champion walker and supreme champion of the right to roam at will, despite all obstacles – wires, fences, trolls, battles, ravines, etc. He disappeared when attempting to walk across the DANCERS in Lancre. [TGL]
Wheels, Gabby. An elderly farm worker who helps with the harvest on Miss Flitworth’s farm. He hardly ever speaks, and so he is called ‘Gabby’ because of that famous sense of humour for which country people are so well known. [RM]
Whemper, Goodie. The witch who trained Magrat GARLICK. A great collector of books about MAGIC (she had about twelve, a considerable number for a witch). She was a research witch (see RESEARCH WITCHCRAFT) and she died in an accident while testing whether a broomstick could survive having its bristles pulled out one by one in mid-air. The answer, apparently, was ‘no’.
Mention of her name is always followed by ‘may she rest in peace’. Witches do not follow any religion, but that is no reason, they say, to deny anyone some peaceful rest. [WS, LL]
Whiteface, Dr. Head of the FOOLS’ GUILD. He is a white-faced clown – deadpan white make-up, thin mouth painted into a wide grin and delicate black eyebrows. He wears a pointy hat and shiny white clothes. In short, he’s the clown all the other clowns are afraid of. Clowns are very possessive about their make-up but remarkably careless of their names (there are vast armies of Joeys and Boffos, for example) and it is very likely that ‘Dr Whiteface’ is the generic name for the head clown. [MAA]
Whitlow, Mrs. Housekeeper at Unseen University and commander of its below-stairs servant army. She is a very fat woman (restrained by whalebone) with a face full of chins and a ginger wig. Her glossy skin looks like a warmed candle, and she has an unwise attraction to the colour pink for clothing and furnishings. She can certainly loom – though mostly only horizontally. There was presumably a Mr Whitlow once upon a time, but he is never discussed. She is the subject of some mild undirected fantasies among senior members of the faculty, especially after her behaviour during the craze for Music With Rocks In.
Wiggs, Jocasta. A trainee Assassin and a member of a famous Guild family. She once had a fairly messy encounter with Sam VIMES during a Guild practical exercise. [NW]
Willie, Boy. Member of the Silver Horde. A.K.A. Mad Bill and Wilhelm the Chopper. A rather dried-up old man, but known as Boy Willie because he was (at under eighty) the youngest member of the Silver Horde. He wore very thick boots because he had both legs shorter than the other, a very rare medical condition. [IT, TLH]
Willikins. One of VITOLERS’S strolling players, who specialises in female roles. Willikins is also the name of Lady RAMKIN’S butler, a most polished retainer who started with them as the scullery boy. During the events of Jingo, he signed up with Lord Venturi’s Heavy Infantry, and found that his expertise with the carving knife was a good training for the battlefield. He also used to belong to the Shamlegger Street Rude Boys, where his weapon of choice was a cap brim sewn with sharpened pennies.
Wilkinson. Warder at the TANTY.
Winder, Lord. Patrician of Ankh-Morpork during the early events of Night Watch. He was unpleasantly plump, with the pink jowliness of a man of normal build who had eaten too much rich food, and extremely paranoid. This was because people were trying to kill him. [NW]
Winkings, Arthur and Doreen. (See NOTFAROUTOE, COUNT AND COUNTESS.)
Wintler, Mr. Josia Wintler (aged forty-five) of 12b Martlebury Street, Ankh-Morpork, is a small man, with a beaming red face – one of those people blessed with the permanent expression of someone who has just heard a rather saucy joke. He specialises in growing amusingly-shaped vegetables. [TT]
Winton, Mad Al. One of the SMOKING GNU, with Alex CARLTON.
Wisdom. Wisdom comes from experience. Experience is often a result of lack of wisdom. Wisdom is also a lot wiser the further away it is; any old thing written down by some bald man with lots of Zs and Xs in his name is bound, under this rule, to sound a whole lot wiser than the same thing written down by the man next door.
This applies especially if the putative wise man lives up above the snowline somewhere. No one says: If he’s so wise, why isn’t he on the beach?
Wistley, Shaker. Boot-fetishist in Creel Springs, near Lancre. [WA]
Witch, The. A shape made of water-deposited limestone at one of the lesser-known entrances to the LANCRE caves, which is in a narrow valley in the most mountainous region of the country; it looks like a seated old woman. Although there is no formal prohibition on men using this entrance, very few venture very far inside. There is always some pressing reason to go back.
Among the caves accessible from this entrance is one which, because of some curiosity of the rock, is totally impervious to thought.
Witches and Witchcraft. (See witches by individual name, and extensive entries under MAGIC.)
Witch’s cottage. Although the basic unit of witchcraft is the witch, the basic continuous unit is the cottage. The cottage may have different incumbents over the years, but people seeking cow cures and other items will go to it as much as to the witch.
A witch’s cottage is a very specific architectural item, to the extent that ‘Middle Period Witch’ is a recognisable style. The chimney twists like a corkscrew. The roof thatch is so old that small trees flourish in it, the floors are switchbacks, which creak at night like a tea clipper in a gale. If at least two walls aren’t shored up with baulks of timber then it’s not a true witch’s cottage, but merely the home of some daft old bat who reads tea leaves and talks to her cat.
Granny Weatherwax’s cottage
Despite some popular misinformation, there have been few cottages made out of gingerbread, a singularly impractical building material outside those areas where the high ambient magic can compensate for the tendency of the walls to go stale and soggy.
Chicken legs (or duck, in swampy areas) are a popular addition.
Witches’ cottages get very sensitive to the moods of their occupant. The home of Granny Weatherwax is so typical of the type that the more detailed information found under GRANNY’S COTTAGE can be taken to apply to the homes of most witches.
Witch Trials. A major Lancre festival. A general get-together when witches from all over the Ramtops come and meet in a typical witchy atmosphere of sisterhood and goodwill – i.e., all nice smiles over the top of a seething mass of envy, scurrilous gossip and general touchiness. The witches show off tricks and spells developed during the year in a spirit of friendly co-operation to see who is going to come second to Granny Weatherwax, although this is all in fun and not a serious contest. And if you believe that, there is no hope for you. The Trials are followed by a bonfire and more gossip. [SALF, NOCB]
Withel, Stren. In his time, the second-greatest thief in Ankh-Morpork. A cruel swordsman and a disgruntled contender for the title of nastiest man in the world. He has one eye, and a scar-crossed face, and he dresses in black (he was thrown out of the ASSASSINS’ GUILD for enjoying himself too much). [COM]
Withel, Theda. A milkmaid who became a famous actress in moving pictures. She was called Ginger by her friends, but adopted – or at least had adopted on her behalf – the screen name of Delores de Syn. She was around 5' 2" tall and, although she was not beautiful, the magic of moving pictures could give you real trouble in believing this. The word ‘vivacious’ springs to mind. Current whereabouts and occupation unknown, but they probably do not involve any kind of livestock. [MP]
Wizards’ Pleasaunce. A small, newt-haunted meadow in a horseshoe bend in the ANKH near Unseen University. On summer evenings, if the wind is blowing towards the river, it is a nice area for a stroll. Traditionally, wizards are allowed to bathe naked in the river from there. None in recent history has taken advantage of this privilege. J
umping up and down on the Ankh does not have the same appeal, in any case. [S]
Wonse, Lupine. Former Secretary to Lord VETINARI. Wonse was one of life’s subordinates, who rose from his childhood in the SHADES. He was neat, and always gave the impression of just being completed. Even his hair was so smoothed-down and oiled that it looked as though it had been painted on. As the Supreme Grand Master of the ELUCIDATED BRETHREN OF THE EBON NIGHT, he was responsible for the summoning of a great dragon to try and usurp the PATRICIAN. He achieved an accidental death while in WATCH custody owing to the literal-mindedness of the then Lance-constable CARROT, who threw the book at him. [GG]
de Worde, William. See under ‘D’
Worrier, Lappet-faced. (also known as the Lancre Wowhawk, i.e., similar to a goshawk but less forcible). A hawk. Small and short-sighted. It prefers to walk everywhere, and it faints at the sight of blood. It is a carnivore permanently on the look-out for the vegetarian option. It spends much of its time asleep and, when forced to find food, tends to sit on a branch out of the wind somewhere and wait for something to die. When it is on a perch, it will often end up sleeping upside down. It would take several Worriers to kill even a small sick pigeon, and they would probably do it by boring it to death. The only way you can reliably bring prey down with a Wowhawk is by using it as a slingshot. Peculiar to LANCRE, where it is the hawk that queens are allowed to fly. [LL]
Wow-Wow Sauce. A mixture of mature SCUMBLE, pickled cucumbers, capers, mustard, mangoes, figs, grated WAHOONIE, anchovy essence, asafoetida, sulphur and saltpetre. Much admired by Mustrum RIDCULLY, current ARCHCHANCELLOR of Unseen University.
Wow-Wow Sauce is one of those entities which, like chess, has an existence that spans worlds and dimensions. On Earth it was pioneered by Dr William Kitchiner (1775-1827), although without the grated wahoonie and several of the more explosive ingredients.
The only condiment more dangerous than Wow-Wow Sauce is the rare Three Mile Island salad dressing.
WOW-WOW SAUCE: The Off-Discworld Version
Unlike Mustrum Ridcully’s more explosive creation, this is not very hot and can safely be eaten near a naked flame.
Butter or, for non-wizards, the substitute of choice, a lump about the size of an egg
plain flour, 1 tablespoon
beef stock, (1/2) pint
English mustard, 1 teaspoon
white wine vinegar, 1 dessertspoon
port, 1 tablespoon
mushroom concentrate, 1 tablespoon
freeze-dried parsley, 1 heaped tablespoon
pickled walnuts, chopped, 4
salt, freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Melt the butter or butter substitute in a saucepan. Stir in the flour and work in the beef stock. Stir continuously on a moderate heat until you have a smooth, thick sauce.
Stir in the made-up mustard, the wine vinegar, the port and the mushroom concentrate. Add a sprinkling of salt and freshly ground black pepper, and continue to cook the mixture for about 10 minutes.
Add the parsley and the walnuts; warm them through, and serve.
This sauce, when added to roast beef, will earn a vote of thanks from the ghost of the steer. We are unable to comment on its keeping qualities – the question has never arisen.
There are a number of recipes for Wow-Wow Sauce. Its apparent inventor, Dr Kitchiner, used pickled cucumbers and capers in preference to the walnuts – we felt they obscured some of the delicate flavours. But feel free to experiment. Worcestershire Sauce has been suggested as a substitute for the mushroom concentrate and port, but some of the delicacy of the flavour might again be lost. Big changes in the taste of the sauce can be made by quite small variations in the proportions of the vinegar and the mustard – generally, the higher the proportion of wine vinegar the sharper and more piquant the sauce (a tarter version can be made by increasing the wine vinegar to a tablespoonful and reducing the mustard to half a teaspoon).
Dr Kitchiner, incidentally, would have been welcome at Unseen University. He was in the habit of travelling with his own invention, the ‘portable magazine of taste’; this consisted of twenty-eight bottles of favoured condiments, such as essence of celery, pickled cucumbers and, of course, the sauce.
For those brave souls who, in the age of the microwave dinner, wish to get the whole thing right we offer this recipe for mushroom concentrate (there are many others):
Put about six large button mushrooms into a bowl and sprinkle on some salt. Leave them for about three hours and then mash them. Cover the bowl and leave overnight. Drain off the liquid into a saucepan (energetically straining off the mushroom pulp through a sieve will extract more of the liquid). Boil, stirring all the while, until the volume is reduced by about a half. This should produce about a tablespoon of the essence for your sauce.
Wuffles. Lord VETINARI’S pet dog. A small, almost toothless and exceedingly elderly wire-haired terrier with a bristly stub of a tail, who smells bad and wheezes at people. He also had halitosis. He was sixteen years old. Wuffles slept like a dead dog, with all four legs up in the air. Wuffles died some time before Making Money. There is now a little grave in the palace grounds. Lord Vetinari goes there once a week and puts a dog biscuit on it – Tracklement’s Yums (bone-shaped – but never the yellow one because Wuffles didn’t like them).
Wxrthltl-jwlpklz. Demon summoned by Granny Weatherwax, Nanny OGG and Ma-grat GARLICK. [WS]
Wyrmberg, The. A mountain that rises almost one half of a mile over the green valley where it stands. It is huge, grey and upside-down. At its base it is a mere score of yards across. Then it ascends through a clinging cloud, curving gracefully outward like an upturned trumpet until it is truncated by a plateau fully a quarter of a mile across.
There is a tiny forest up there, its greenery cascading over the lip. There are buildings and a lake. There is even a small river, tumbling over the edge in a waterfall so wind-whipped that it reaches the ground as rain. There are also a number of cave mouths, a few yards below the plateau. They have a crudely carved, regular look about them. The Wyrmberg hangs over the clouds like a giant’s dovecote.
The rock contains many corridors and rooms. In its hollow heart is a great cavern where the DRAGONS – the Wyrms – roost. Sunbeams from the myriad entrances around the walls criss-cross the dusty gloom like amber rods in which a million golden insects have been preserved. In the upturned acres of the cavern roof are thousands of walking rings, which have taken a score of masons a score of years to hammer home the pitons for. These rings are used with hook boots to walk across the ceiling. There are also eighty-eight major rings clustered near the apex of the dome – huge as rainbows, rusty as blood. Below are the distant rocks of the cavern floor, discoloured by centuries of dragon droppings.
The dragons themselves are clearly Draco nobilis, who have a permanent existence here because of the extremely high level of residual magic in the vicinity (surviving in much the same way as certain deep sea creatures survived in the presence of a warm-water vent in the sea bed). [COM]
Xeno. An Ephebian philosopher and author of Reflections. Small, fat and florid, and with a short beard. [P, SG]
Xxxx. Continent, somewhere near the Rim. It reputedly contains a lost colony of wizards who wear corks around their pointy hats and live on nothing but prawns. Some of this is true (see BUGARUP). There, it was said, the light was still wild and fresh as it rolled in from space, and the wizards surfed on the boiling interface between night and day.
It was believed that Xxxx has been the subject of at least two expeditions from Ankh-Morpork; the first, several thousand years ago, was led by a sourcerer and the second, some five hundred years before the present, was never heard of again.
Although the continent received many shipwrecked mariners, because of the permanent ring of storms around its coast, the same storms made it practically impossible to get home again (until the events of The Last Continent). The few stories that filtered back, telling of giant leaping rats, ducks with fur, no wings a
nd four feet, and huge flightless chickens, suggested to the hearers that the place may be entirely mythical. However, the events of The Last Continent have made it more than clear that nothing people had heard about Xxxx was an exaggeration.
Yen Buddhists. The richest religious sect in the universe. They hold that the accumulation of money is a great evil and a burden to the soul. They therefore, regardless of personal hazard, see it as their unpleasant duty to acquire as much as possible in order to reduce the risk to innocent people. Many major religions, after all, stress that poverty is a stand-by ticket to salvation. [WA]
Yennork. A yennork is a werewolf who is not the classic biomorph (human-shaped but with the ability to change into a wolf at any time) nor a wereman (like, say, LUPINE). A yennork is unable to change. They are either stuck as a human all the time (like ANGUAS’S sister Elsa), or have to spend all their time as a wolf (like Angua’s brother Andrei). Technically, the yennork does change at full moon, but because its biological make-up lacks a cogwheel somewhere, it changes from the shape it is in to the same shape again, and doesn’t notice. Because some yennorks may not even realise that they are technically werewolves, and will live and breed quite happily as a human or a wolf while innocently passing on the complex werewolf gene, they are believed to be the reason for the many gradations and varieties – and also why a werewolf may occasionally crop up in a family with no known werewolf history.
The efforts of the ‘pure bred’ biomorphs to keep their line free of the taint of yennorkism has been responsible for some very strange political thinking.
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