The Temple of Elemental Evil - part 1

And so into one of the legendary OD&D modules with the kids. The ToEE (T1-4) was one of those iconic modules I recall as a teenager mainly because T1 (Village of Hommlet) had been out for what seemed an age before the rest arrived. It was released as a 'super-module' in an era where the ethos of OD&D changed from simply providing a setting populated by monsters and traps to one with a story/ narrative.

Now I love both aspects of play, but I find the down side of the latter can be that players get railroaded through, as there's often only one real way to make the story work. This was much the case in the Dragonlance series, and in the re-working of A1-4 and G1-3/D1-3/Q1. For my part, the kids had already started T1 a few years ago before our playing was de-railed by them arguing all the time! So this time around, I went straight for the dungeon with a fresh mission and a mild tweak to some of the locations in the vast dungeon....

So, our heroes are: Elangos (half-drow assassin), Crue (elven mage), Vicdak (half-orc fighter-cleric, and general hard-ass), Emelia (half-elf mage-thief), Loren (half-elf paladin of Pelor), Loki (human ranger) and Gideon (NPC cleric of Pelor). The intro I wrote them was as follows....

Fireseek CY577

The deep snows of winter ground the normally vibrant streets of Verbobonc to a frigid halt. After three weeks in the city, having brought in the New Year, you are itching to find of the urgent task that has brought you so far north.

It had been mid-Autumn, in the end of Patchwall, when the novelty of a house in Saltmarsh had run dry and the desire to return north had crept in. The merchant ship had sailed north from Keoland, skirting the treacherous coats of the Pomarj, and its infamous slaver lands, and followed the Wild Coast to Safeton, the homelands of Vicdak. By this time the first snows of Sunsebb had begun, but an urgent summons for Gideon and Loren from the Temple of Pelor in the City State of Verbobonc had dragged you from the warmth of Safeton and across the Gnarley Woods and Kron Hills.

A few minor skirmishes on the journey kept you occupied. The slaver ships notorious for raiding the Wild Coast had got braver, pushing inland as far as the northern Gnarley Woods. Their misguided attempt to spring a trap on the caravan that you all accompanied resulted in Vicdak and Loki competing in who could kill the most slavers in one battle. Astonishingly, and much to Loren's disapproval, it was a draw.

Enjoying some hospitality from the gnomes in the Kron Hills, you reached Verbobonc in time for the yuletide festival of Needfest. The small city, capital of the Viscounty of Verbobonc, sits on the Velverdyva River and enjoys a healthy trade with the gnomes of the hills, the nearby walled city of Dyvers and the great kingdom of Furyondy to the north. As with many cities in the north it has a temple to the sun god, Pelor, although meagre in size compared to the huge edifices in Ulek, and it was this church that provided shelter through the vibrant festival.

Whereas Loki, Vicdak, and Emelia enjoyed the festivities Crue spent his time more constructively. Huddled away in the moderate library of the Viscount Wilfrick, Crue sought more information on the bizarre appearance of the masked wizard in the underwater layer of the Sahaugin. There seemed little to find on wizards wearing masks, save the association between mummer's masks and the elven god, Erevan Ilesere. Of the trident, Wave, there was slightly more: crafted by the sea elves of the Sea of Gearnat, originally as a weapon of their god, Sashelas, it became a weapon in the fight against demons and devils in the hands of holy warriors, such as paladins. It had been lost for nearly a hundred years, seemingly destroyed in a naval battle between the Holy Warriors of Procan (God of the Sea) and the evil forces of the witch Iggwilv, on Lake Quag, in Perrenland.

Crue knew that to find more he would have to seek a larger library, whether back in Ulek, or to the east in Dyvers or Greyhawk. Accepting this, he re-joined the others for the much anticipated meeting with the High Priest of Pelor, Tarin Hyret, at the grand cathedral of Pelor.

Tarin was a trouble man. Originally from the Shield Lands that ran between the foul Empire of Iuz and the fair kingdom of Furyondy, Tarin had been sent south to Verbobonc when his temple was sacked by a horde of bugbears. His wrinkled face reflects many of the fears of the Furyondy folk: three years ago the Crown Prince of Furyondy, Prince Thromell, went missing following a battle against the forces of Iuz. His betrothed, Jolene of Veluna, is now in mourning and open once more to suitors and the potential force for good that a unification of two great nations would bring has disappeared on the wind.

Yet Tarin's fears are more local. Four months ago, in late summer, he received word from an agent in Nulb, who worked for both him and the Viscount, that there had been secret traffic spotted near the ruined Temple of Elemental Evil near Nulb. Accordingly, Tarin dispatched a party of adventurers, led by his daughter, Allis, priestess of Pelor, to investigate. The months have passed, but no word has come and the Viscount's agents have not seen Allis or her companions.

Elangos, hailing from the far northern region of Tenh, had only limited knowledge of the Temple. With a sad smile, Loren recounted the fell history of the place. In CY569, eight years ago, the forces of good (humans of Furyondy and Veluna; dwarves of the Lortmil Mountains; gnomes of the Kron Hills; and elves from Ulek, and Celene) fought the foul denizens of the Temple near the village of Homlett, south of Verbobonc. Defeating the evil army on the Fields of Emridy Meadows, the armies besieged the Temple and defeated, then trapped the demoness, Zuggotmy. The Temple was sealed, and left ruined. Loren served in the human army, one of the Crusaders setting the orcs and gnolls to the sword.

If there was a chance that Allis was lost in the ruins of the Temple, then Loren knows he must investigate, and so too must Gideon. The pair accepts High Priest Talin's mission, and only on insistence from Emelia and Elangos, the fee that he will provide for such a service.

And so to the Temple…

***

The first session was a brief journey to the Temple south from Verbobonc and into the Kron Hills. The weather is turning cold and foggy, and in the mists they encounter a strange group of pilgrims, all with pale features and white hair. The pilgrims are tricky to talk to, and seem fascinated by Vicdak, who's half-Suel/ half-orc. The eagle-eyed Elangos spots one of the pilgrim's dagger is coated in blade venom, and a scrap breaks out.

The pilgrims are the Scarlet Brotherhood, the nutty Suel-supremacists (sort of Greyhawk Nazis), who in this era (pre-Greyhawk Wars) are a largely unknown quantity. They've been tasked by one of Iuz's (half-demon ruler of an evil empire) chosen warriors to gather information on the theft of a sword, Blackrazor, by the wizard, Keraptis.

The scrap doesn't push the characters as much as I'd thought, and they find on the bodies several useful items: bracers of defence, which Crue takes; a Gem of Seeing, which Emelia grabs; and a letter...

***

Fair Greeting to Lord Gryst, Scion of Iuz

It is with heavy heart that our great network has failed to locate the whereabouts of the fabled blade, Blackrazor. It's dreadful reputation is surely matched only by the passion the blade ignites in your fell heart, my Lord.

Our Brotherhood have had greater success in the identification of the vile miscreant who stole your blade. The method of its theft, the destructive use of sorcery, and the mask he wore have led us to identify him as Keraptis. A Suel sorcerer of old, his history is handed down in legends preserved amongst only the purest of Suel supremacists such as our Brotherhood. Yet, Keraptis was only truly half-Suel, an aberration of elven and Suel blood, and it is reputed the impure blood that flowed in his ancient veins was that of the Elven deity,  Erevan Ilesere.

Keraptis's manipulations and trickery earned him a dark reputation amongst the Suel, though his last act of sorcery was in the far off lands north of the Nyr Dyv, near eight hundred years ago. We would surmise that an imposter adopts his visage, although there is the small chance that Keraptis's insanity has returned.

We are certain the value of this information is apparent to you, and your dread father, and a return of those secrets we require shall be forthcoming.

With respect

The Father of Obedience

So the mystery of Keraptis, who the characters encountered in U3 when he purloined the trident, Wave, deepens. Armed with this info, and a chunk of cash from the Scarlet Brotherhood the party continue their journey and skirt the town of Nulb (a grotty pit of vice) and head towards the 'ruined' Temple. The Ranger Knight, Otis, approaches them under cover of gloom and shares what little he knows of Allis and her group. Allis had journeyed into the Temple with five others about two months ago, but nothing has been heard since. Otis is certain there is activity inside the Temple, but his remit is one of spying not assault. He offers his followers, three Brownies, to guide the characters to the Temple. With their range of concealment (camouflage from the pseudo-dragons, a ring of invisibility that Elangos uses, and a darkness spell) they manage to get to the main door without the brigands in the watchtower spotting them.

The main door is sealed with runes and magical protection and the characters wisely avoid trying to break in this way. Rather they jemmy open the side door, and enter the vast Temple... or at least that tiny proportion of the Temple that exists above ground...

U2: Danger at Dunwater

And the adventure continues with the kids' party of six:

Loren: half-elf Paladin of Pelor (a Crusader) from Celene
Loki: human ranger from Duchy of Geoff
Emelia: half-elf thief-magic user from County of Ulek
Vicdak: half-Orc fighter-cleric of We Jas. His mother was Suel, hailing from the Wild Coast
Crue: elf Magic-user, from County of Ulek
Elangos: half-elf drow assassin (Flan origins on human side, from Duchy of Tenh, then onto Greyhawk city)

Having trained now to second level (and in some cases, third) the refreshed characters and their mentor, Gideon, are sent by the Council of Saltmarsh to investigate the Lizardmen threat gathering at the swampy mouth of the Dunwater River. The smugglers in U1 (Secret of Saltmarsh) were found to be running quality arms to these Lizardmen, and naturally the Council are scared about attack. It seems swifter to send the characters than lobby the King for aid, especially given that Saltmarsh is on the fringes of Keoland, and very close to the border of the Hold of the Sea Princes.

Taking a small boat, the players sail along the coast and land in the swamp. They have gained some very useful assistance in the form of Pseudo-dragon familiars, and this allows several of their number (most usefully Emelia the theif-mage) to become camouflaged. The gang enter the Lizardmen lair via the main entrance, immediately scrapping with the guards. They beat them fairly convincingly, then tackled the second wave from the adjacent room.

With a swift bit of healing they continued into the lair--moving first into a Banqueting Hall, where they encountered some of the Lizard females. Crue sent them off to sleep with a spell, and the party tied them up with rope and gags. Exiting the Hall, they then came into the Throne Room where two kids were playing. Deciding that they (a) would loose a ton of XP for bumping off the kids, and (b) didn't want the kids stalking them, they grabbed them, tied them up and bunged them in the Hall with the mums.

Back into the corridors, Emelia scouted ahead and found more lizard women cooking in the kitchens. The bloodthirsty adventurers were tiring of these non-combatants! Back into the corridors, the party move around to the east and come into the barracks, wherein they find nine warriors and a shaman. An almighty scrap ensues, driven by the shaman's fervent hatred of humans/ elves as heretics and infidels. Emelia disables one of the warriors with a sleep, and when the battle ends, they question him. At this point they learn that the Lizardmen are actually living in exile from their prior home, and that there is argument between clergy and the Minister about humans and whether they are enemies or not.

It's at this point the adventurers realise that the Lizardmen aren't the big enemy. Given the trail of green blood and orphans they've just left behind, it is with some trepidation they go to make peace with the Chieftain. A big discussion ensues, and ultimately the party accept that to recompense the Lizardmen (a weregild) they must perform a task: to slay a Giant Crocodile that the Lizardmen can't tackle due to religious reasons.

So, out into the swamps and what begins as a battle against a huge crocodile is soon joined by an Oriental Dragon. It's a close battle (see Hidden Dragon ), but the characters prevail and return to Saltmarch with cash, a few choice items ( a periapt of proof against poison, a magic sword, and some potions). And the conclusion to the adventure awaits, in The Final Enemy.

Hidden Dragon (DnD tales)

Thought it would be fun for the kids to see their epic finale from module U2 in story form. So here goes...

 

***

 

The hesitant dawn tainted the mists a rusty colour. Despite the early hour the marshland had a stifling closeness, the air seeming dense and obstructive. Progress from the Lizardmen’s lair had proven sluggish, and the stinking water had soaked through Emelia’s boots at least an hour ago.

She glanced at her companions as they fanned out nervously at the edge of the large pool. Long sharp grasses mixed with twisted reeds around the fringes of the murky water, thickening into a copse of slimy trees at the far side. The creature was surely in the water, yet Emelia had an uneasy sense something terrible was watching them from the dark of the wood.

 

 

“Stay vigilant,” Loki said. The ranger crouched low, checking the mud around the pool for signs of their quarry.

“Can’t be too hard for you to track a crocodile the size of a house,” Crue, the elven mage chuckled. Loki frowned but did not reply.

“I do declare, it might have been safer to just give the Lizardmen their gold back,” Gideon said. The cleric of Pelor was clasping his holy symbol nervously.

“My spell books don’t pay for themselves,” Crue said. “And besides, we took that gold in good faith before we realised the Lizards’ true intent.”

“We have much to compensate for,” Loren, the Paladin, said. “At least this way we slay the…”

The brackish water erupted as a huge crocodile burst forth. Its speed belied its vast bulk, as its huge mouth roared in fury. Slime glistened on its thick green hide, tendrils of weed hanging from its underbelly.

 

 

Emelia’s heart was in her mouth as she sprinted to the side, mind desperately trying to recall a spell that would be of use against such a monster. To her left se could see the huge half-orc, Vicdac, take a more traditional approach and charge in with his sword.

The crocodile sloshed out of the pool, its massive tail swinging through a splintering hail of reeds. Vicdac’s massive sword carved a vicious furrow along its side and dark emerald blood mixed with the slime and marshwater. To the creature’s far side the spear of Oceanus, the Sea Elf, plunged into the crocodile’s flank.

Words of sorcery spilled from Emelia’s lips and she felt the surge of power as a crimson bolt crackled forth. It struck the beast under its jaw in a cascade of sparks. The crocodile focused its attention on Emelia and she felt a surge of terror.

“Try this for size,” Crue yelled from behind a nearby tree. The marshland glowed with the nimbus of sorcery around the elf, and a magical arrow hurtled across the waters and into the monster’s flank. There was a glare of light and then a horrid hiss as acid devoured a chunk of flesh.

I need to find the creature’s vulnerable area, Emelia thought as she darted around the fringe of the pool. Charging in from the front is hardly my style. I’m on this mission to crack locks and dodge traps.

The hide of the crocodile was as tough as iron, and despite its wounds it had slowed little. With a mighty lunge its huge jaws clamped around Gideon as his swing with a mace skittered off its head. The cleric screeched as the dagger long teeth ripped through his armour. Emelia watched in horror as blood spattered across the companions—Gideon’s blood.

“Get him loose,” Loki yelled, jabbing at the crocodile’s throat. “We can still save him.”

Oceanus charged with his spear, and straight into the crippling impact of the crocodile’s tail. The blow sent him hurtling across the water and into a tree with such impact the trunk splintered.

“No!” Emelia screamed, and dashed around the pool. The mud clutched greedily at her boots. To late she saw the trees part and a far more terrible creature emerge.

The water of the pool erupted into flames, and Emelia threw herself back. Her uncanny reflexes had saved her vicious burns from the mystical flames.

A creature of legend emerged, its vast snake like coils propelling it towards the companions. A wicked set of teeth leered as burning orange eyes narrowed in hatred. Crimson membranes glowed with power between gnarled spines jutting from its draconian head and back.

A dragon. A coiled dragon. Emelia knew of such creatures only from the dusty tomes of Ulek’s famed library.

Oceanus had stumbled to his feet, wincing in pain and lowering his spear. Glancing back, Emelia saw that Elangos, the dark skinned warrior, and Vicdak, had also seen the dragon emerge.

The persistent jabbing of weapons had prompted the crocodile to drop Gideon’s limp body. In a deft motion, Loren caught his mentor, whilst stabbing ineffectively at the roaring crocodile.

The heat from the flames was unbearable, and Emelia knew she would be better in the cover of the reeds than stood with wavering sword before a dragon. She scuttled through the reeds almost colliding with Crue, who was skulking like a thief in cover.

“A pan lung. A coiled dragon,” Crue rambled. “We’re stuffed.”

“My magic is spent,” Emelia said. “Are you…?”

“I’ve got some left, but the acid arrow almost burned me out. If I’d have known…”

“Easier to scowl at the past than smile at the future,” Emelia said. “This battle is more suited to bruisers like Loki and Vicdak.”

Circling above the pair, their familiars came into focus. The two pseudo-dragons had wisely being hiding in the reeds. The elves smiled grimly, and then allowed their own flesh and clothing to magically adopt the colour of the surroundings.

Even from three feet away, Emelia could hardly see Crue.

“Good luck, my friend,” Emelia said, and then scrambled through the reeds.

The crocodile was trying to bite Loren, but the paladin’s ornate plate mail deflected the attempts. Loki had moved around towards the dragon, with Elangos and Vicdak, but the flames were hard to breach.

Through the reeds, Emelia crept, trying to anticipate the swing of the huge tail. Her hands were so sweaty with fear that she feared she’d drop her sword. The flicker of flames from the nearby water danced across the flawless elven metal.

With a clatter the huge tail slammed into Loren. The magical plate armour dulled the blow, yet it sent the paladin staggering. The crocodile reared to attack, and Emelia knew she had one chance.

Hurtling from the reeds, she plunged her sword into the soft belly of the crocodile and threw all her strength behind the blow. A gout of viscous blood and entrails spilled from the wound, and she kept on moving, dragging her keen blade along the length of the abdomen.

The monster thrashed and gurgled and then crashed to the mud. The impact sent Emelia spinning across the marsh and into Loren. The pair splashed into the swampy ground and then lay laughing in relief.

“Some help…?” Vicdak’s guttural voice echoed across the marsh.

The dragon hissed in pain as a magical bolt arced from the reeds and into its neck. Loki was injured, but still fighting through the flames at the dragon. With horror, Emelia saw the injured Oceanus, staggering in the flaming pool, trying to thrust his spear at the monster.

There is so much I could learn from him, she thought. Erevan help us, throw your fickle dice our way for once.

The dragon snapped down at Elangos, ripping a chunk of flesh from his shoulder. The dour warrior splashed back through the water, as Vicdak hacked furiously against the dragon’s impervious hide. The battle was taking its toll on the companions, and the dragon showed little sign of fatigue.

 

Elangos had retreated to the water’s edge and was aiming his crossbow. There was something about the dark-skinned half-elf that Emelia couldn’t fathom. Yet she had met few warriors from the northern fringes of Tenh, and those she had were soured by the constant battles in the region with barbarians and orcs from the lands of dreaded Iuz.

Urging her aching muscles to action, Emelia hastened over to the unconscious cleric, Gideon. They had been good friends since meeting years ago in their homeland of Ulek. Although Gideon and Loren worshipped Pelor, God of Light and Healing, and Emelia considered her patron gods, Erevan Ilesere, Elven deity of mischief, and Boccob, human god of magic. Yet Pelor’s disciples were ever tolerant of other faiths, especially when working for the common good (which naturally Emelia did… most of the time).

Blood ran from Gideon’s mouth and nose, and his chest excursion was uneven. Swiftly Emelia tugged loose a vial of potion and carefully poured the contents into the cleric’s mouth. He gagged and spluttered, and was then surrounded by a shimmering light. His eyes flickered open.

“Gideon, are you…?”

“I declare, the dawn has nothing to compare to your fair visage, mah dear.”

“You’re fine,” Emelia said, and dropped Gideon’s head back into the mud with a splash. She stood,  winced, and retrieved her sword. Her friends would need her help, magic or no.

With Loren at her side, she rushed forwards. The dragon was wounded, the water bubbling ferociously around it as the heroes splashed across the muddy banks. Loki was retreating, multiple cuts dirty with swamp water. Oceanus had slumped on the bank, and the flames licked greedily at his burned legs.

A shrill sound sprang from Elangos, an ancient Flan war-cry that sent shivers down Emelia’s spine. Some dormant memory arose within the dragon, and it turned its sinister gaze towards the dark figure on the edge of the pool.

The flames illuminated Vicdak’s mighty blade as he lunged forth. His huge muscles propelled the sword deep into the dragon’s throat, and he roared a prayer to Wee Jas as a fan of emerald blood coated his pale Suel features.

In a flicker the magical flames were gone, and the companions stumbled wearily before slumping into the marsh. Checking the coast was clear, Crue emerged from the reeds and retrieved the dagger he had thrown moments before. His camouflage faded, and he smiled spritely at his exhausted companions.

“Alright, maybe Gideon was right. Paying back the gold would have been an easier option.”

Emelia closed her eyes and smiled.

 ***

 

Details of the adventure to follow soon.

The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh (U1): the adventure begins.

One of the coolest things about Stranger Things is that it's rekindled my kids' interest in DnD, and ever the opportunist I've planned out a campaign from level 1 to 12, squeezing in all the classic modules in the Greyhawk setting. And what better place to begin than U1- The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh.

The characters, 6 in total are:
Loren: half-elf Paladin of Pelor (a Crusader) from Celene
Loki: human ranger from Duchy of Geoff
Emelia: half-elf thief-magic user from County of Ulek
Vicdak: half-Orc fighter-cleric of We Jas. His mother was Suel, hailing from the Wild Coast
Crue: elf Magic-user, from County of Ulek
Elangos: half-elf drow assassin (Flan origins on human side, from Duchy of Tenh, then onto Greyhawk city)

A rather bizarre group, with Elangos obviously masquerading as a fighter-thief type, with the dark Flan skin hiding his shameful Drow connection. Plenty of fun stored up for later in the campaign there (especially when they get to D1-3).

So the premise is that they are accompanying a cleric of Pelor called Gideon, who is delivering a secret message from the church in Ulek to some merchants in Hold of the Sea Princes, at Bale Keep. The first five are comrades, with Elangos employed by the Sea Prince merchants to guard the message. Gideon leads them overland through Keoland, via Dreadwood, to the marshy land on the edge of the Azure Sea.

The camp is disturbed by (apparent) bandits whom the party defeat but the horses scatter. Gideon's message is taken by a dark garbed figure, who calls an illusion of a stone dragon to cover his escape. Then he disappears into thin air!

Irritated by this Scooby-Doo style villain, the gang descend into the fishing town of Saltmarsh. Initially staying with the Blacksmith and his family, they sneak around and spy on a council meeting hearing an old sailor rattling on about ghosts and flashing lights at t'old manor. Eager to question him, Elangos and Emelia kick off a tavern brawl so as to snatch the sailor. He reveals the mysterious going on up at t'manor. The local constabulary give chase, and the pair do a runner over the rooftops.

Next day the fuzz turn up where they're staying, and after some Paladin sweet talking, go to the Council. They argue a fair bit, but ultimately offer to fund the characters to nose around the Haunted House. And so into the adventure!

It's soon apparent there's more going on than simple Scooby-Doo, and giant spiders and bugs. They go to the cellar pretty quick, find a secret passage into rooms used by smugglers. The legacy of the alchemist, a bunch of skeletons, and some golden apples. Then they find a passage and stairs to the hidden caves wherein an illusionist (the dude from earlier), with two gnolls, and a bunch of smugglers are laying in wait...

A great scrap ensues, with the characters victorious and they retrieve their message as well as clues about the Sea Ghost, the smugglers ship. The Council pay them to seek out the smugglers, and on the night the boat arrives they arrange signalling from the house whilst they row out. Gideon uses silence o mask their covert approach, and they board the ship via portholes. Sneaking through the rear of the ship, they tackle a bunch of crew in the hold, and then storm the deck. The battle is pretty close up above, but helped by a Sea Elf Oceanus. Just when the battle is almost won, three lizardmen burst out, and they win by a slim margin, but with no deaths on their side.

The adventure ends with a victorious return to Saltmarsh and a bundle of cargo to sell. And, of course, curious information about the  lizardmen and their purchase of weapons from the smugglers. Which leads neatly into the next module in the series, U2- Danger at Dunwater.

All in all a totally great time with old school AD&D, and one we hopefully will continue through until the Giants-Descent-Drow modules!

Redemption and resolution

Six years ago, whilst Amanda was pregnant with Henry, I began writing a fantasy book. At the time I had an idea in my brain of a heroine who would find mysterious powers of magic and use these powers to flee her slavery and join two wily thieves on a quest for some magic crystals.

 The concept evolved, far broader than I'd planned as these things often do, and what was once a two book series expanded into three and then after splitting the first meaty tome in twain, into a six book series (despite the 'trilogy' title on the FB page... LOL).

And, six years after I put digit to keyboard, bringing to life scribbles in notepads, and over half a million words later, book six is almost here. In the last throes of proof-reading, I have the distinct pleasure to reveal the incredible new cover for the book.

One of the great relationships I have enjoyed from the early bizarre days of FIBP and through the growth of the mighty Myrddin Publishing Group is the one I have with Ceri Clark. As well as her skills as an author, and writer of internet guides, Ceri has a real talent for book cover design. This has worked in synergy with ideas I have had regarding images, and she can take the raw substance and create some remarkable work. As you'll see below, Ceri's six book covers in my Darkness Rising series, form a great set.

The latest cover was a real challenge. Thus far we have had representations of Emelia (bk1-2), Hunor (bk3), Orla (bk4) and Kervin (bk5). For Book 6 I had always planned for Jem, who is perhaps the other key character in the series (along with Vildor and Aldred). Yet from an early stage I had such a strong image of Jem in my mind that nothing could replace it (if you are interested, I visualise him as David Thewlis as Professor Lupin).

So the image on book six is a representation of one of my series favorites, Ekris, the thespian assassin whose journey with Aldred was driven by his need for vengeance towards Hunor. Book five's finale saw the long awaited fight between the two master-swordsmen, and Book six takes Ekris into some strange uncharted territory in a way you simply won't believe. The hooded assassin, bearing a passing likeness to Ezio from Assassin's Creed, is stood in the ruins of a once great city--the finale location of the series, Erturia.

In a lot of ways, Ekris has changed the most as a character through the books. In the outset he was manipulative and murderous, throwing wit into his killing with panache and style. He borrows from Tarantino-esque hitmen, with a professional pride in the cleanliness of his kills. Yet it is the unabashed friendship from Aldred that chips away at his cold stone soul, and by book four he struggles to leave this one friend he has gained. Ekris wears many faces, and in that he has lost who he is, and so it is with a certain irony that he becomes the minion of the theatrical ghast, Tonrik, whose warped mind embellishes eternal life with drama and self-indulgence. Tonrik's hold on him becomes ever stronger, and we were left at the end of book five with no idea how Ekris would resolve this domination, and atone for the demons of his own past.

So... let's finish with the blurb, and the promise that the book is almost almost here.....



'There's no change without loss. No gain without sacrifice. Redemption is rarely painless.'

War has ripped apart Artoria as the dark forces of Vildor prepare for the final battle. Flying north to battle, Lady Orla forms an uneasy alliance with the Artorians. Yet her heart remains heavy with the guilt of recent betrayal.

In the wilderness of the Wastes, Emelia has succumbed to Vildor's black charm and watches
helplessly as his schemes come to their terrible conclusion. Separated from his partner, Hunor, the Wild-Mage Jem races across Artoria to save Emelia. But more than just Vildor stands in his way as the terrors of the past seek to steal the might of the crystals from his grasp, and with them all hope of salvation.

OOOHH... getting excited now :-D

* If you want to check Ceri Clark's website and work out, then click here

A World of Their Own: review of charity anthology

Anthologies are not everyone’s cup of tea, or in this case magic potion. Much like getting a box of chocolates and losing the little card that tells you what you’re devouring, the experience can be random in both a pleasant (strawberry cream) or not so enjoyable (coffee) way.

 This anthology was sent to me as an ARC (Advanced Review Copy) from one of the authors. There are a large number of contributors to the work, all who had at some stage a connection with a group of authors who met on the Harper Collins website Authonomy. The group, from a thread called The Alliance of Worldbuilders, shared an interest in speculative fiction and acted as a critique/support/social group before drifting from the aforementioned site into the realm of Facebook and, in a number of cases, publishing. 

 One of the reasons I rarely read anthology is that I’m not a huge short story fan. Often they feel incomplete, unsatisfactory, undeveloped, or lost in their own literacy—making up for absence of a good yarn with excess description or narrative. Flash fiction especially grates on my nerves, as it is rather tricky to do decently, and can feel pretentious. 

 So I’m happy to report that this anthology, and its fifteen or so contributors, entertained me immensely. Inevitably there were works that appealed to my tastes more than others, yet there were very few ‘coffee chocolate’ moments where I genuinely thought to skip onto the next story. There are a few that seemed to allude to other works, or to pre-existing fictions, that piqued my curiosity enough to investigate further. Let me bring a few highlights of those, and then note the others: 

 Will Macmillan Jones’s Dwarfs R Us is a pun-saturated tale of the awesome witch Grizelda returning her broom to the repair shop. I’ve read a few of the author’s books, and for fans of the lighter end of satirical fantasy this is good reading. Be prepared to groan out loud at the gags, though. 

 David Muir’s They Rise and We Smite is a longer paranormal fantasy along the lines of the Dresden Files and Aaronovitch’s PC Grant series. It’s tale of hidden wizard bloodlines descended from gorillas, and interaction with the world’s established religion, was very entertaining. The OTT battle scene at the end made me chuckle, and made up for the hefty info dump at the start necessary to establish the milieu. Muir returns to the setting in the Night of a Thousand Spells, with a rather unique baby going through dark mages like rusks. 

 Valerie Willis’s Destiny’s Game also had the feeling of being part of a greater work or setting. It would appeal to those with a taste in paranormal romance, a la City of Bones or Beautiful Creatures. The use of angels was nicely done, and the pace of the work kept me engaged, as did the light dialogue. 

 Jeremy Rodden’s How to Create a Villain is set in his cartoon world of Toonopolis, a fantasy setting populated by animated creatures. Despite the comical setting the story is quite serious, and a good introduction to Rodden’s style and quirky characters. As a short story it works well, and definitely intrigued me into reading more (or at least waiting for the exclusive Netflix series it probably deserves—LOL).  

In amongst the other stories with their speculative fiction feel there were a few clunkers and a few real standouts. Troll by KA Smith was superb—a reflection on urban decay mirrored by the physical and psychological deterioration of a homeless man. The language was skilled and the prose excellent, as was the story conclusion. The Thief Gets Away by TRM was a perfect fantasy short, with quirkiness, spot on dialogue and two cool little creatures living in someone’s hair. Lost Time Memory by Sam Dogra, again, was a perfect short story—great structure and characterisation. A good indicator of a successful short story is when you want the story to be expanded further, that there’s more to tell within the setting—namely it has hooked you into the milieu. Wyrm by AFE Smith was similar to the aforementioned pair in this—a great fantasy short, with solid plot, characters and a suitable twist (even if you guessed it half-way through—LOL). 

And finally, given that the anthology is dedicated to her, it would be remiss not to mention Lindsey J Parson’s contributions: Matilda, and Phoenix Feather. Of the pair, Matilda really enticed me—a poignant tale of a witch entering the twilight of her years, and her last adventure, with a companion demon. As an illustration of Lindsey’s talent it sits perfectly in this collection of fantastical tales.

 The anthology is raising money for the World Literacy Foundation and for that reason alone it’s worth a purchase—but more than that it’s an excellent collection of diverse speculative fiction stories with some talented contributors. Definitely recommended.

Links are: 

http://www.amazon.com/World-Their-Own-Lindsey-Parsons-ebook/dp/B014WQS2GQ/ 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/World-Their-Own-Lindsey-Parsons-ebook/dp/B014WQS2GQ/ 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/World-Their-Own-Lindsey-Parsons/dp/1909845817/ 

For the kindle US, kindle UK and print editions respectively.

Flayed men and felines

One of the things I thought I'd do on the blog was post book reviews when I uploaded them to other sites. About half of what I read I review for the great site Fantasy Book Reviews, the other half are just personal interest ones.

As ever, when you set out to do things, stuff gets in the way. For me that's been focusing my 'reading' time on tweaking the format of Infinity Bridge, proof reading the print version of Darkness Rising 4, and beginning the edit of DR5.

I did, however, manage to squeeze in a book which had been sat on the shelf for a while. The book was The Palace of Curiosities by Rosie Garland. I was given this book by a friend, Andrea, who had met the author and who loved the book. 

It's a curious book, with a great premise, and is well written but there's something about it that doesn't quite work for me.

The setting of Victorian London, with its grubby fascination of the macabre 'freak shows' is lavishly described, especially the communal cellar that Abel resides in at the start of the tale. The setting is perfect for the narrative of the two main characters Abel and Eve. 

Abel is an immortal, able to regenerate from any injury and devoid of blood much in the way a cadaver would be (this is nicely contrasted in his work as an anatomist in flashback). His curse, if the aforementioned wasn't enough, is that he is amnesiac- which gives a nice device for us to grow with him (even if it gets a little irritating). Our journey with Abel is quite sympathetic- I liked much about him, although his apathy eventually got frustrating. And as a character Abel makes a more convincing and interesting journey than Eve, one that held my curiosity.

Eve, the cat-faced lady, never felt as rounded or as thought out as Abel. She spends much of the book simpering after her obvious swine of a husband, the owner of the Palace of Curiosities. Ultimately she gains a backbone, but rather late in the book and with a slightly disappointing climax to the story. The hidden voice inside her, which could have really been developed more, only re-emerges in the latter stages, and I think that was a missed opportunity by the author.

The supporting characters are good: Arthur, Abel's initial companion; Lizzie, the morbidly obese dancer; George, the cunning tattooed man; and Professor Arroner, the villain of the piece.

Yet despite its macabre richness there's still a spark missing for me. The first person POV alternating chapters didn't really draw me in, the story lacked pace and drive, and there was almost a confusion behind the messages the book tried to convey.

All in all, a good first novel and like it says on the cover- a curiosity. Andrea tells me there's a sequel cooking, which is great news as I'm certain Rosie could develop the premise further.

So, next up? Got sent an Asimov book by an old friend, Jason, so between edits I'll dive into that one. Old Skool sci-fi here I come! 

Sixty Shades of Sorcery

One of the coolest things about fantasy (and there’s a sentence that before HBO’s gore and shag-a-thon, Game of Thrones, would have never been written) is the wide variety of how magic is perceived in the genre. There’s a deluge of articles about designing magic systems and ensuring logic and coherency, but I won’t reiterate those here. Suffice it to say that magic is one of those things that if you write badly, and use as a continual ‘deux e machina’ (or, I suppose, pulling a rabbit out of the hat) then it’ll bugger your book in the manner of a horny troll with a tub of Vaseline +2.

I enjoy magic in fantasy books, I think it gives it a texture and a richness that no other genre can match, and I also enjoy the different styles of incorporating it, in the same way that I love Dark Fantasy as much as epic or heroic. Before you think this is an Aldi advert, let’s start delving around different ways of writing sorcery.....

 For me, as a kid, I began reading fantasy mainly due to my interest in DnD. The magic system in DnD is obviously designed around the wargaming origins of the game, having your magic users learning spells from their list, being allowed to cast so many before they become dagger wielding softies. The concept was that the magic had a verbal part, a material part, and a learned way of wiggling your hips as you did it. Gary Gygax, former master of my universe, drew much of his inspiration from Jack Vance, and the Dying World series. Certainly in the first book—The Dying Earth—which is a collection of short stories, that style of magic is apparent. In those works spells are learned, and then once cast are erased from the ‘working memory’ until relearned. There is a wonderful concept in ‘Turjan of Mir’ wherein the words themselves seem to carry the power:

‘He stared down at the characters and they burned with an urgent power, pressing off the page as if frantic to leave the dark solitude of the book. Turjan closed the book, forcing the spell back into oblivion.’

‘He then sat down and from a journal chose the spells he would take with him. What dangers he might meet he could no know, so he selected three spells of general application: The Excellent Prismatic Spray, Phandal’s Mantle of Stealth, and the Spell of the Slow Hour.’

 Many works (including mine) have drawn their influence from DnD and hence from the ‘Vancian’ system. The obvious ones are those like Dragonlance, which was originated in an awesome DnD campaign, and so has Raistlin (at least in the original trilogy) learning spells and being knackered every time he casts... Featherfall...(Ok, so he got a bit harder when he hit level 12 in the finale). Other authors, such as the excellent Gary Vanucci, emulates the fast paced combat style of DnD magic in the Ashenclaw series—where the magic compliments the sword-craft perfectly. Gary’s work has been compared to RA Salvatore, although I haven’t read what style of magic Salvatore uses.

The throwaway style of sorcery lends itself perfectly to gaming, and one book I read recently that was influenced by on-line/RPG gaming was Connie Jasperson’s two books, The Tower of Bones, and the Forbidden Road. Connie takes the concepts in a different direction. The magic in her world is fuelled by Chi, like a life-force, and the sorcerers/priests who wield it, use it for either healing or for manipulating elements. Their approach is utterly scientific, and they study it as a science rather than an art—rationalising how to improve it, and manipulate it in unique ways. The healing in the book reads like a medical manual (which naturally, I loved!!!). And why not? Why wouldn’t magic in a fantasy world become like a science, in a strange parody of how in history events now rationalised by science were probably regarded as witchcraft.

There’s so many cool systems! Moorcock’s books have a magic wherein its practitioners constantly bargain with demons and gods of chaos/order to manipulate reality. Le Guin’s Earthsea books have a tried and tested formula of objects in the world having ‘true names,’ which carry power when utilised. I suspect she was the first to utilise this in popular fantasy, although Paolini used a duplicate system in Eragon and those other dragon books.

Then there’s the idea of channelling other world’s energies, or using some other ‘place’ to fuel your sorcery. The Amber series by Zelazney is kind of like this: after walking the Pattern, those of appropriate birth can manipulate the reality of all things in the shadows of Amber. Another great example is Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen series. Here we have a pocket universe, or Warrens, which are accessed and opened by the mage to desired effect. This is a great concept, and it works really well in the books. Oddly what it reminded me of was the rationalisation of superpowers in the Marvel Universe’s Guides—so, when Cyclops fires his optic blasts his eyes are tapping into another dimension and acting as a conduit.

Which neatly brings me to my own style—which is unashamedly super-heroic in origin. In Nurolia, there is elemental magic, which comes naturally to the elemental races’ mages, and via use of Gems of Power and lots of lessons in humans; and there is Wild-magic, which is psychic in origin (so telekinesis, telepathy, pyromancy, but used in quite creative ways). The ‘evil’ magic, although clearly the other magics may be used by selfish or unscrupulous individuals, is Dark-magic, which is portrayed in the books as the fifth element.

When I designed Wild-magic I had a concept in my head similar to mutants in the Marvel X-men series. I liked the idea that the ability could occur at random, and what impact that would have on normal folk in a fantasy world. In the same vein as mutants being feared and despised, Wild-mages are ostracised and persecuted by the Elemental Orders, and this alienation is compounded by the fact that Wild-magic produces problems with the mind, either psychological (Jem’s OCD, Emelia’s bipolar disorder, Lemonbite’s schizophrenia) or neurological (I don’t want to spoil who, for readers of the series). I also liked the fast-paced angle of superpowers in the comics, and wanted that recreated in my rather televisual style of writing. The finale to book three, in the temple in Ssinthor, where the heroes scrap with the zealot, has a very fast-paced use of magic which I hope works.

I still couldn’t get away from some magic tropes, though. Elemental magic still needs a source (the Gems), words and gestures. Hence mages are held captive with special masks and manacles, or via an elixir that suppresses their sorcery (Pure Water, from Goldoria). The idea of items acting as conduits, or power sources, is another well established magic system. Brooks’ Shannara series uses items and artefacts to great effect; games such as Final Fantasy and Skyrim use soul gems etc; the One Ring in LOTR; RA Salvatore’s Demon Apostle, and the gemstone magic; Joshua Bigger’s hard-hitting fantasy, Dark’s Daughter, Hope with its gems and extension of eastern chakra mysticism. Even good old Harry Potter has magical items galore—the Philosopher’s Stones, the Deadly Hallows, the thingies that He With No Nose sticks part of his soul in....

There are so many and so little space before the reader dozes off. Magic can be present in a fantasy world, but not be especially in your face like my lightning tossing, Wild-magic shielding characters use. The obvious examples are ‘realistic’ fantasy, such as George RR Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire (or is it Fire and Ice...?). In George’s world, the magic is more subtle—the shadow monster thingy that bumped Renly off after popping out of Melisandre’s foo; the worgs and their animal body skipping (skinchanging?); resurrection, with poor old Beric Dondarrion held together with masking tape; those dudes with the blue lipstick, who pop up in the market despite being toasted by dragons. For his realistic setting, it works very well, and this subtle use of magic fits dark fantasy perfectly (such as the awesome Scott Lynch’s Lies of Locke Lamora), as well as lighter fantasy such as the Farseer trilogy by Robin Hobb (the Wit and the Word—lots of mind influencing, animal possession, and so on).

The final quote on magic in fantasy—let’s stick with Georgie...

“Sorcery is a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it.”

So what’s your favourite magic system in fantasy? I haven’t read WOT by Robert Jordan, or Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson, but by all accounts they rock big-style on the magic front. For me, I think the cleverest was Erikson’s—it had a maturity and originality that fitted perfectly with the intricate tone of his books.

But I still like the idea of two mages zapping the crap out of each other like medieval superheroes... I can’t help it!!!!

Darkness is Rising again

The latest installment in my six-part epic fantasy Darkness Rising hits the virtual bookshelves today, on the Mryddin Publishing Group label. It picks up the story with Emelia, Jem, Hunor and companions in the arid deserts of Pyrios. They're racing against the dwindling sanity of Emelia and the approaching terror that is Vildor, with a pair of demons and an insane Fire-mage thrown in for good measure.

Further north we have Aldred 'circling the drain' (as they say on ER) with the dark Ekris and the noble Unhert trying to work out how to save him. The key may reside with Inkas-Tarr and Torm who finally move to centre stage in this book.

All the plot-lines are coming together in time for book five, where it all goes totally bonkers.

if you fancy a sample read on...

if you fancy the book then click here for UK kindle and here for the US of A (and everwhere else in the world).

Excerpt from Darkness Rising 4 - Loss

[Lady Orla Farvous adresses the disprited Incandian tribes known as the kerindara]

Orla glanced at Jem’s despair-wracked face. Her insides knotted at the injustice of the comment.

“Save your breath, Master Ten,” she said, striding forward. “These Incandians can not call themselves warriors.”

A clamour of anger erupted from the cavern. It thundered off the dark walls. Orla clambered onto the raised area that the five leaders sat upon. Several warriors moved to restrain her, but Myrek waved them back.

“This is not a slur on your good names,” Orla said. Her voice sliced through the ruckus like a sword. “Who am I to come to your ancestral home and cast aspersions on your valour? A foreign knight, from a far off land, that up until this day had not a jot of interest in the workings of your world.

“Yet I stand before you today willing to lay down my life and the lives of my friends for your cause. I look at the power that you face, the insurmountable walls that you crash against like the distant sea, the evil that lies within the dark rock—and I understand your reticence. I understand, with my head, why this day you would choose to lick your wounds, to regroup, to plan, to debate…”

The cavern was silent and Orla looked at Kolm as she said this.

“Yes, my head understands why this day you would not choose to be warriors. But my heart? My heart cannot.

“My heart cannot comprehend how you can skulk in the bowels of this rock like frightened children. My heart cannot appreciate how you can rest whilst your sisters, your brothers and your children chip away at the seams of iron in the catacombs of the mountain. My heart cannot fathom how you can tolerate this Fire Lord taking another unholy breath whilst your kin are in servitude. My heart cannot call you warriors.”

Myrssta raised her sword and cheered. The cavern burst into noise as a hundred Incandians drew their weapons and chanted a war cry.

Kolm leapt to her feet and moved to seize Orla in fury. Curnk stepped in her way and the two women faced each other off. Myrek and the other two leaders called for calm, but the battle cry persisted.

Orla drew her sword and shouted for silence. The cries ebbed as she addressed the crowds.

“Who am I to ask you to come with my friends and me? I am Lady Orla Farvous of the Knights of the Air. I shall ride across that plain though it may be as fierce as the Pale and I shall bring justice and freedom to the dark halls of the Mountain of Ash. I would ask the Paswans to ride with me—we have an opportunity now that may never be repeated. If I ride alone then so be it—I will die for your sisters.”

Curnk shouldered past Kolm and stood by Orla.

“My tribe will ride at your rear and I at your side.”

Cheers rang out and Myrek came to Orla’s left. “And I at your other. The three other tribes must decide their own path. Warriors saddle the herdilla—we shall await the signal on the edge of the plain.”

“First I must take the brand,” Orla said.

“That is not necessary,” Myrek said.

“Not necessary, but nonetheless I shall be honoured to fight as an equal with ones so valiant.”

Myrek nodded and Myrssta seized the flaming brand, moving through the chanting masses towards Orla.

***

Hope it makes you curious!!!
See you next time...

Swords, sorcery and...sand

It seems like an age since I last released some work, but its only been seven months. Perhaps its the wealth of stuff I've squeezed in that time, or perhaps its because of other projects and distractions.
Anyhow, Darkness Rising: Loss is due for release at the end of the summer. I got the edits back from my friend, Nik, back in April, I think, but was focusing on some new material for DR6 at that time. I've completed the edited version, and now have the delight of showing off the brand new cover.

As with all my books, and many of the books on Myrddin Publishing, the cover is by the talented Ceri Clark. Ceri has managed to design this one whilst juggling the more than full time role of new mum. Something about exhaustion must work, because it's superb. Here is the front:

 

The star of the cover is Lady Orla, who will be familiar to those who read the series as the rather prim and ordered Knight of the Air who has ended up travelling with the companions. In this book, Orla really steps up a bit, dealing with a number of issues from her past and giving Hunor a great deal of support as he strives to lead them all.

The book is actually set in two locations. As with the prior two books (DR2 and 3) it follows two parallel plotlines, one with Emelia, Jem and Hunor; the other is with Aldred, Ekris and Unhert. Don't fret, they all link up in the end (well, in book five!!). The characters of Inkas-Tarr and Torm, minor characters in the last few books (to the point of readers commenting why are they here?), get a much bigger part in book 4 as they meet up with Aldred's group.

Aldred's journey takes him out of the Emerald Mountains and into South Artoria, where he travels to the famous city of Keresh and its fabled walls. It was a tough call to decide between an image of Aldred and a walled city, or an image of one of the seven in Emelia's group and a desert. In the end I thought the colours and feel of the desert were better suited for a cover.

In the desert of Pyrios, Emelia is struggling to hold onto her sanity after the events at the end of Book Three. The strains on both Kervin and Jem lead to frission in the group, compounded by the sense that Vildor is closing in on them fast. He has the black crystal, and also the aid of both the Ghasts and the demonic humours, who make a welcome reappearance in books four and five.

I'm hoping to get the book out at the end of summer, after our family jaunt to Devon. if you fancy an advance review copy let me know and I'll whizz one your way. And be sure to check out Ceri and her great website at http://cericlark.com/

Definitely some Warhammer next time. Definitely.