[an altogether unimpressive redhead stares back at her, peering warily from beneath the brim of a tattered hat. Silver sequins sewn across it claim (perhaps unconvincingly), that he's a "Wizzard".]

Sorry, hold on, you're from the same world as Baelish? - And Jorah as well, then? [how has Rincewind not heard of her? He really needs to keep up better with all this network nonsense.] From that world with the throne made of melted swords?

[which still sounds damned uncomfortable.]

Er, and when you say there are even more of you lot here now, how... many would you say that is?