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.

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.

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...

There and back again, and again, and...

First of all, an apology. It’s been over two months since my last confession, sorry, blog post. You know how it is—xmas, work (the one that pays the bills), some writing/editing/proof reading. And I’ve been a little unfaithful to this blog, seeing another blog or two on the side....

Anyhow, happy new year. And to kick off this year’s posts where better to start than The Hobbit. I saw it with the kids in the Xmas holidays at our brand new cinema in Halifax, in glorious 2D (as watching films in 3D when you already wear glasses is little better than watching a dodgy bit-torrent version with Arabic subtitles and little silhouettes walking across the bottom of the screen). Now I should declare that there was no way I was not going to like this film. Seriously it could have been just a 180 minute still of Bilbo with Sting and Gollum and a caption saying ‘Eggsies’ and I would have soiled my seat. I’d been awaiting this film since before LOTR, since I was 11 and read the book for the first time (not least because LOTR pre-Jackson had a great film version already in the shape of Ralph Bakshi’s cartoon).

Yet just before I went to see it, the powers of the Necromancer (Sauron for kiddies) had already worked their wicked way on the public. Little mutters of desecration, alteration, new material, ‘untrue to the book’ expanded into ‘milking the fantasy cash cow’ (and what a gargantuan cow it could be in a fantasy world... a 15HD AC2 monstrosity with udders that imitated a Beholder’s twiddly eye stalks). So I was a tiny bit nervous when I watched it—I felt almost protective of the film, like they were insulting my mother in some strange Scorsese type-way (‘Waddya say about my mudder? Huh? Huh?’). After all, Peter Jackson is the Creator in my eyes—he who has brought forth majestic films for all to see (and I include ‘Bad Taste’, ‘Meet the Feebles’ , ‘Heavenly Creatures’ and ‘Brain Dead’ in that statement too).

And I was content. Because he didn’t screw it up. And I know there’ll be dissenters who were probably the same ones who lamented the loss of Tom Bombadil, the barrow wights, and were irritated by that whole Osgiliath diversion in Two Towers, but I loved all the modifications. Well, I could have skipped Sylvester McCoy as Radagast with his Bunnies of Protection +2, but the rest was perfectly pitched. I thought back to the book, which is after all a kids’ book, and wondered how it could have been done differently. Part of the problem is that there are some great scenes in the book that would be a bit naff if directly translated to film—the Trolls, the scene with Golem, even the Spiders. They would be rather twee if left as they were, and I considered Jackson did a good job of making the first two feel far more dramatic and not so silly. The sub-plot with Thorin and Bilbo was perfect—the characters had to make a journey within a journey or the film has no drive: after all, what is a story if nothing evolves, nothing changes?

The extra material with the White Orc gave a great finale, which came just right after the escape from the Goblin caves. The alternate would have been bringing the goblins out onto the mountains, which wouldn’t have seemed as dramatic to me—less personal for Thorin, less opportunity for Bilbo’s bravery.

Similarly the meeting in Rivendell was well done, if a tiny bit slow. The Hobbit is a prequel to LOTR whichever way you look at it. The dialogue was engaging enough, and I also liked the more sympathetic treatment of Saruman before he becomes swayed by Sauron and the Palantir. You do kind of want to slap them and shout, “Duh! How can you not know who’d hiding in Mirkwood?”

So like many I’m eager for the next film, not least to try and predict where they’ll cut it. Will it culminate in Smaug’s death, or will they put that in film 3? Will they focus on the battle of the Five Armies in film 3 or what? Or more linking material?

And it’s that extra material that is really irking folk, as it did to a lesser extent with LOTR. But why? What is so sacred about Tolkien and his work beyond the devotion of fantasy fans? I adore the books, but I’m happy to see the alterations in the same way I was happy with the ‘modernisation’ of the CS Lewis books for film. They’re good films, after all. I see adaptations that are dire, especially of comics—the League of Extraordinary Gentleman is shocking, despite the brilliance of the comic; Wanted is an OK film, but bears a minuscule resemblance to the comic version. There’s a school of thought that considers all art to be adaptable, changeable. When we see the twentieth interpretation of Great Expectations, or Pride and Prejudice, we don’t kick back over the alterations, the omissions, when the key plot points and most memorable dialogue remain. And that’s all that has happened with The Hobbit at the moment—the plot is still the same, the idea of Bilbo Baggins making a journey both physically and meta-physically, with the great quotes and the great songs, a bunch of dwarves (undoubtedly cooler than any Elf softies) and a dude in a grey hat.

For me the thrill of seeing such works on film is second to none, and the same applies to the adaptation of comics such as Thor, Spiderman, Iron Man, X-men and Avengers. I adored the originals, but they could not be replicated panel by panel on the big screen. And the kids these days don’t know how lucky they are to be seeing such awesome stuff at the cinema!




So happy new year, and I promise it won’t be as long until I post again. And I’ll kill the time to Hobbit 2 by playing the fab Lego Lord of the Rings, which has Radagast and Tom Bombadil in it!!!

The new bogeyman

When I was a kid I think I had a traditional set of fears. Way, way back it was monsters, although ironically I love them now and spend all my spare time writing about them (agreeably people hacking their heads off). Then it moved onto separation related things- you know, like being abducted or losing my folks- that sort of thing. I had the Dr Who behind the sofa fears. My doctor was Tom Baker and the first season I really remember was the wonderful run of gothic horror style episodes from seasons 13 to 15 (Pyramids of Mars, Talons of Weing Cheng, the Fendhal etc). One that especially sticks was the Horror of Fang Rock, with the Rutan blobbing up the stairs of the lighthouse. Petrified!

And it's funny seeing the fears coming out in my kids. Yet there's an oddity or two that is curious to think of. First of all the two eldest (now 9 and 8) had very different ones. Charlie- the dreamer- has always been monsters and imaginary horrors until recently. He was terrified when he was 4 and we took him to a Halloween party- clung to me like a limpet all night (and I look like a vampire on my good days). He's been afraid of ghosts in his room, monsters outside, scarecrows on Dr Who, and weird stuff like being turned into a doll or converted into a drawing (all very Tales of the Unexpected). Of late, he's got more rational- now he's afraid of being abducted. Fair enough.

Evelyn- the pragmatic one- was always afraid of dangerous animals (although you could call fear of sharks in Devon a touch irrational) and disease. I've no idea where this last one comes from but she is seriously hypochondrical at 8. Her love of Horrible Histories fuels her concern about the return of the Plague. Perhaps she knows about an Al'Quaeda attack we don't...

But the best one yet is the new bogeyman. Now I was never afraid of the bogeyman, because he was never on Dr Who and the comic by Raymond Briggs made him a green joke. But it would seem that there is a new bogeyman in town...and he's called the Hacker.

Sorry... The Hacker.

At first I thought it was a mad axeman chopping up naughty children and keeping them in jars in his basement in a Roald Dahl type fashion. But no, it's a cyber-fear. They all discuss it at school, when they talk about kids social network sites like Moshi Monsters and Club Penguin. The Hacker is a cyber-bogey man who creeps around the internet destroying your Moshi Monster. He can be anywhere, lurking on the fringes of your screen... My son came home one day and told me that a kid at school had seen him! Anticipating he would be an acne ridden Speed Metal fan with aviator shades on I questioned further. No, my lad says, he's been seen by his mate Jacob actually on Moshi Monsters. He's a being made from shadow that slunk across the screen and gave the Moshlings a good kicking.

(Further questioning elucidated that this was the same Jacob who told Charlie his hand had been bitten off by a shark and replaced with a rubber one...).

The kids were freaked, avoiding going on the computer without me nearby (not a bad thing) and blaming any computer problem on the new bogeyman. They discussed him at school, worried about him at night and generally used him as an excuse not to go to sleep at lights out.

The Hacker! WTF. We are truly in a new age my friends when the scariest thing is an amorphous entity on the inter-net killing virtual pets. The kids think of dangerous viruses as ones that mash your hard drive up, not ones that give you meningitis. They fret about their on-line pets when they forget to feed them. It's bonkers.

Then I think about the hours I spend tapping away on computers at night. I think about all the tweets I send and jokes I share with people I've never really met. I think of hours of my life drained by the vampyric Facebook. And am I surprised by the new fears of my kids?

So I did the only thing I could. Told them that statistically they're far more likely to be run over by a car than abducted, eaten by monsters, blown up by a bomb, crash in an aeroplane, swallowed by a shark or rotted by the Plague.

Now they're afraid of cars.