Robin Marx's Writing Repository

This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on March 26, 2024.

Neither Beg Nor Yield: Stories with S&S Attitude

Edited by Jason M. Waltz – Rogue Blades Entertainment – January 26, 2024

Review by Robin Marx

The definition of Sword & Sorcery is a perennial topic of discussion in related forums. While the unacquainted often use the term to label any variety of fantasy fiction containing edged weapons and magic, fans usually have a very specific style of story in mind: one that hews closer to the blood and thunder-filled stories by Conan creator Robert E. Howard rather than the more genteel work of J.R.R Tolkien. Despite reasonably widespread agreement among enthusiasts of what stories and characters can be categorized as Sword & Sorcery, it becomes surprisingly tricky to nail down what, precisely, differentiates S&S from other varieties of fantasy. Sword & Sorcery stories tend towards grittiness and the horrific, but so do Dark Fantasy and Grimdark. Is a barbarian or thief hero required? Must magic always be treacherous and evil? Must the stakes be personal and localized, or can an S&S story be epic in scope? In his introduction to Neither Beg Nor Yield: Stories with S&S Attitude, editor and Rogue Blades Entertainment proprietor Jason M Waltz sidesteps the endless hair-splitting. He makes a convincing argument that Sword & Sorcery is all about attitude. S&S heroes stubbornly cling to life, no matter how the odds are stacked against them. According to Waltz, “Sword & Sorcery is a clenched fist thrust into the sky, a raised middle finger in the face of the Unknown, an epithet spat into the dirt through a rictus of bared teeth.” At 446 pages in length, Neither Beg Nor Yield brings together 20 stories showcasing this vigorous and defiant attitude. While story quality is uniformly high, in the interest of brevity this review focuses on a subset of stories either expected to appeal to Grimdark fans or those that demonstrate the breadth of the anthology.

“Prince of Dragons” by William King is one of the outstanding entries of the early portion of the book. King is a prolific contributor to Games Workshop’s Black Library fiction line, and is particularly celebrated for his Gotrek & Felix novels. Here he provides an origin story for his own original hero, Kormak. After massacring his entire village, the infernal Prince of Dragons leaves young Kormak with a promise that some distant day, at a time of the demon’s choosing, the Prince would return to claim Kormak’s life. While Kormak is taken in by the Order of the Dawn and trained in the art of monster-slaying, the Prince of Dragon’s threat is never far from his mind. The story traces several formative episodes in Kormak’s life leading up to his lethal reunion with the demon. “Prince of Dragons” has a compelling sense of grim inevitability throughout, and while I’ve read other Kormak stories by King in the past, this particular story has convinced me that I must investigate further.

While many of the stories in Neither Beg Nor Yield stick to familiar Northern or Western European-inspired settings, feudal Japan is used as the backdrop for two contributions. “Hunters and Prey” by C.L. Werner, another popular Black Library writer, is a new tale featuring wandering ronin warrior Shintaro Oba. While Oba frequently appears in issues of Tales from the Magician’s Skull, Waltz notes that the character’s initial introduction was in Rogue Blades’ Rage of the Behemoth anthology. “Hunters and Prey” has Oba on the trail of a diabolical spider demon while Oba is, himself, in turn being stalked by a relentless bounty hunter. Glen Cook (The Black Company, etc.) provides the other samurai-themed entry with “Isekai Sengokumonogatari.” War veteran Shinzutoro finds himself tasked with escorting three orphaned noble children and their guardian through bandit- and monster-infested wilderness. Nearly everyone Shinzutoro encounters on the trail proves threatening, and he senses fairly early on that his travel companions are likewise not what they seem. The Japanese trappings of both stories offer a refreshing change of scenery while still delivering the horror-tinged action expected by Sword & Sorcery fans.

Waltz’s introduction-cum-manifesto argues that attitude is everything when it comes to Sword & Sorcery, so it’s perhaps no surprise that some of the entries in this book reject the conventional tropes of the sub-genre. Set in our era, “Suspension in Silver” by Eric Turowski features a massive biker (a modern-day barbarian?) desperately fighting against a pack of werewolves driven to recruit him. Joe R. Lansdale’s “The Organ Grinder’s Monkey” ranges even further afield, with two mechanics embarking on an inter-dimensional journey (via Chevy) to stop a giant trike-riding monkey’s misguided revenge against the men who killed the monkey’s sloth lover. Neither story is what most readers would typically expect to find in an anthology of this type, but the sort of fierce determination in the face of overwhelming odds lauded in Waltz’s introduction is undeniably present.

“The Last Vandals on Earth” is a gritty historical fantasy by Steven Erikson, of Malazan Book of the Fallen fame. Narrated in the first person by their cook Ulfilas, this story chronicles a small band of misfit Vandals living recklessly for loot and excitement with seemingly the entire world against them. “The Last Vandals on Earth” pairs wry humor with graphic combat as the last Vandals prepare to sell their lives dearly.

A Hanuvar adventure not included in last year’s Lord of a Shattered Land or The City of Marble and Blood, Howard Andrew Jones’ “Reflection From a Tarnished Mirror” was an especially welcome entry. While working to free his Volani countrymen from enslavement at the hands of the oppressive Dervan Empire, fugitive general Hanuvar encounters an impostor masquerading as himself. Further investigation reveals that the man is a soldier with a brain injury that has had Hanuvar’s personality sorcerously overlaid upon his own: an experimental Dervan plot to track the real Hanuvar by creating a mental duplicate that acts and thinks like the original. Deep behind enemy lines, Hanuvar has the delicate task of working with the tragically addled impostor to free the Volani slaves while simultaneously avoiding the scrutiny of the Dervans hunting them both. While nobler in intentions and character than many of the frequently mercenary-minded protagonists in this book, Hanuvar shares their grit and indomitable spirit.

Adrian Cole’s “Maiden Flight” is a truly fitting finale for Neither Beg Nor Yield. Grievously wounded on the battlefield, viking warrior Ulric Wulfsen finds himself chosen for Valhalla by a newly-minted Valkyrie. Ulric and the Valkyrie find themselves at an impasse; Ulric still clings to life and refuses to accept death, while the Valkyrie has no choice but to forcibly escort her unwilling charge to the afterlife or risk being stripped of her divine status and exiled. The struggle between the pair escalates until Ulric finds himself in defiance of Odin himself. While a dogged refusal to capitulate to death is a common hallmark in all of the stories included in this anthology, “Maiden Flight” in particular effectively embodies the “S&S attitude” described by Waltz in his introduction.

Publisher of 15 books over the span of nearly two decades, Rogue Blades Entertainment has been a steadfast supporter of 21st century Sword & Sorcery fiction. Neither Beg Nor Yield is intended to be the final Rogue Blades anthology and the capstone of Jason Waltz’s editing career. Packed with thundering adventure from a wide variety of authors, Neither Beg Nor Yield sends Rogue Blades off on a triumphant note.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on March 20, 2024.

Conan the Barbarian #8

By Jim Zub (Writer) and Doug Braithwaite (Artist) – Titan Comics – February 28, 2024

Review by Robin Marx

At the conclusion of Conan the Barbarian issue #7, our hero finds himself alone. Not only was Conan forced to kill comrade Chaundra the Chat by his own hand, the other thieves of the Gloryhounds are also dead, supernaturally compelled to murder each other by the three specters inadvertently freed from the stolen Black Stone. With all other involved parties eliminated, the specters force themselves into Conan, psychically battering him into submission. The undead trio agree that Conan will make an ideal tool for their dormant master Thulsa Doom, but to fulfill their dark goals they require blood sacrifices made using the ancient Pictish blade Conan acquired during his adventures with Brissa (during the “Bound in Black Stone” story arc, Conan the Barbarian issues 1-4). Unfortunately for Conan’s ghostly tormentors, distraught after the death of his pirate queen Bêlit, the barbarian pawned the weapon for drinking money immediately after his arrival in Shadizar ten months ago. With Conan as their unwilling puppet, the specters use him to carve a bloody swath through the city in search of the Pictish sword.

This issue marks the end of the Conan the Barbarian “Thrice Marked for Death!” storyline. While it was exciting to see the usually indomitable Conan’s metamorphosis into a Terminator-like possessed killing machine, this story arc’s conclusion felt unfulfilling. The last two issues kept raising the stakes, making me wonder how everything would be resolved, but—unsatisfyingly—the answer is that readers aren’t given much of a resolution. Conan’s plight is significantly worse than his situation at the beginning of the story, and apart from combat victories he doesn’t emerge particularly triumphant.

After four issues of flashbacks, the Bêlit plot thread does receive some payoff as a vision of his departed soulmate provides some spiritual assistance at a critical moment. However, the inclusion of two other familiar faces from past issues muddies the moment, making Bêlit’s aid seem less crucial and special than it would have had she alone appeared in Conan’s time of need.

As always, the Jeffrey Shanks essay includes with issue #8 provides some welcome added context to the events of the Conan the Barbarian comics. The mysterious Black Stone has occupied a place of central importance in both Titan Comics’ story arcs to date, and Shanks points out that corrupting ebon stone is a recurring motif in Robert E. Howard’s (non-Conan) stories. Shanks also traces the influence back to earlier writer Arthur Machen and his 1885 work The Novel of the Black Seal, which Howard is known to have read and enjoyed.

Cliffhanger endings intended to spur readers to buy the next issue are ubiquitous in both comics and the serialized pulp magazines before them. However, whereas the “Bound in Black Stone” story had a distinct beginning, middle, and end, “Thrice Marked for Death” is much less self-contained, to the story’s detriment. While I’m excited to find out what happens next, I suspect the incompleteness of this story will be frustrating to those who read Conan the Barbarian in graphic novel format rather than the monthly issues.

There’s much to be commended about Jim Zub’s handling of the Conan the Barbarian series, but simultaneously it feels like he’s already struggling with the four-issue story arc format. Issue 9 brings with it a new story arc and the return of “Bound in Black Stone” artist Roberto De la Torre, but perhaps it would have been better to give “Thrice Marked for Death” some additional issues and tell a more complete story rather than adhere to the (self-imposed?) four-issue arc structure. “Thrice Marked for Death” is an exciting ride that ends with a bang. But while the impulse to leave readers wanting more is understandable, some more resolution would have been appreciated in the story arc’s concluding issue.

#ReviewArchive #ComicReview #Fantasy #SwordAndSorcery #JimZub #DougBraithwaite #TitanComics #ConanTheBarbarian #GrimdarkMagazine #GdM

This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on February 13, 2024.

Conan the Barbarian #7

By Jim Zub (Writer) and Doug Braithwaite (Artist) – Titan Comics – February 7, 2024

Review by Robin Marx

When we last left Conan, he and his surviving comrades from the Gloryhounds were celebrating their narrow escape from the temple of Bel, God of Thieves. After a night of carousing, Conan and lissome rogue Chaundra the Chat tumbled into bed. As Conan the Barbarian issue 7 begins, however, Chaundra has undergone a startling transformation. The loquacious young woman has become a mute killer, with demonic aggression and strength that belies her slender frame. His life on the line, Conan has no choice but to dispatch his supernatural assailant. Battered and rattled, he stumbles out of the inn and into the streets, heading for the Gloryhounds’ secret hideout. As it has so often, his mind drifts back to reminiscences of his romance with slain pirate queen Bêlit, but he now finds his memories inexorably dragged into darker territory, warped recollections of events that never happened. It begins to dawn upon him that he and his fellows may have escaped the three spectres in Bel’s temple with their lives intact, but they emerged far from unscathed.

With this issue, the Conan the Barbarian “Thrice Marked for Death!” storyline begins sprinting towards its conclusion. This issue is full of both action and supernatural menace, giving both artist Doug Braithwaite and colorist Diego Rodriguez quite a workout. This is perhaps the goriest installment of Titan Comics’ Conan the Barbarian yet, with numerous limbs lopped and even a severed tongue. While dialogue is infrequent in this issue, Jim Zub’s breathless narration keeps pace with the artwork, highlighting Conan’s desperation as he struggles against formidable odds. Like all Cimmerian warriors, Conan’s is a life “measured in sword strokes,” writes Zub. It shines “bright and bloody.”

Appropriately enough, the accompanying Jeffrey Shanks essay explores Robert E. Howard’s use of horror in the original Conan stories. In Tolkien-style fantasy, magic and the supernatural tend to be inherent to the world. In Howard’s variety of sword & sorcery, however, he starts with a gritty, history-inspired setting where magic and monsters are “intrusive” elements. When the supernatural appears, something has gone deeply wrong and the protagonist is in mortal danger. This use of the otherworldly, of course, shares much with the horror genre. Howard’s blend of grounded settings with infrequent supernatural incursions made his stories a popular fixture of Weird Tales magazine and launched the sword & sorcery subgenre of fantasy, so it’s safe to say that this fantasy-horror mixture resonates with many readers. Zub’s work on the current Conan the Barbarian comic continues to carry the torch.

Conan the Barbarian issue 7 ends with quite a bombshell. While there’s only one issue left in the “Thrice Marked for Death!” storyline, it’s becoming clear that the effects of the cursed monolith introduced in the first “Bound in Black Stone” arc will continue to be felt in future issues as well. Issue 8 can’t come soon enough for this reader.

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This review originally appeared at Spiral Tower Press on September 2, 2023.

Looking Glass Sound

By Catriona Ward – Tor Nightfire – August 2023.

Review by Robin Marx

“If you don’t bring up those lonely parts This could be a good time” -Interpol, “Leif Erikson”

Since the 2015 release of her debut novel Rawblood, Catriona Ward has established herself as a writer to be watched. Subsequent novels have been unleashed in rapid succession, bringing her numerous accolades. She is the three-time winner of the August Derleth Award for Best Horror Novel, for example, an achievement unmatched by any other woman writer. Her 2021 novel The Last House on Needless Street is still enjoying a great deal of buzz among readers and critics, and new release Looking Glass Sound seems destined to keep Ward’s name at the vanguard of the horror fiction community.

When his father inherits a cottage in coastal Maine, 16-year-old Wilder Harlow finds himself caught up in a summer that will forever alter the course of his life. Socially awkward and painfully sensitive, Wilder nevertheless finds himself swiftly drawn into an intense friendship with two local teens, Nat and Harper. Abandoned by his mother, fisherman’s son Nat spends his days outdoors, seemingly reluctant to spend time at home. Harper plays at witchcraft—perhaps to exert more control over her troubled family life—and has already developed a thirst for alcohol that goes beyond her friends’ youthful experimentation with drink. The three lonely friends discover the companionship that they so desperately need in each other, vowing to meet again in future summers. Despite their optimistic oath, the triad is short-lived, however. People have been quietly disappearing from Whistler Bay for years, and threatening Polaroid photos of a knife held to the throats of sleeping children have turned up on multiple occasions. When a shocking link between the teens and the so-called Dagger Man of Whistler Bay is revealed the following summer, the friendship is torn asunder. Even after going their separate ways, the events of Whistler Bay follow the trio for the rest of their lives.

Looking Glass Sound involves a great deal of literary experimentation. Unreliable narration in particular plays a prominent role. Wilder becomes a writer, his entire career fixated upon the summers in Whistler Bay and their aftermath, and much of the text is presented as chapters from his unpublished memoir. Perspectives shift throughout the book, and there’s also a recurring thematic emphasis on storytelling. When Wilder asks Nat about a quirk of Harper’s, he casually responds that it’s “not my story to tell.” It’s a brief passage, presented without any obvious significance, but the concept of ownership of stories—who has the “right” to tell them—is one Ward returns to again and again within the book.

While the puzzle-like construction and misdirection of Looking Glass Sound are clever, I found myself more struck by the emotional dimension of the book. The way the characters interact with each other feels brutally real and raw, and because the book follows them over the course of decades, the reader sees Wilder and friends change and grow. The explosive, white-hot infatuations and arguments of their younger years give way in adulthood to frustrated longing and smoldering grudges. Looking Glass Sound has an intimate cast of characters—one could even call it crowded, even claustrophobic—and their separations and reunions over the years result in a melancholy mélange of missed opportunities, interrupted romances, regrets, and awkwardness. The circumstances surrounding the Dagger Man tragedy leave each of the characters laden with trauma and grief, but they find themselves not just haunted by the dead, but each other. Words unspoken, kisses unstolen, and disagreements unresolved all take on weight as years accumulate in the story.

The initial premise of Looking Glass Sound feels a bit like it could have been taken from a scrap filched from Stephen King’s desk, and some readers have expressed frustration with how Ward blurs the line between actual and imagined events. However, despite Ward’s trickiness, attentive readers should be able to navigate the layers and twists. My central complaint would be that the book tends to neglect the horror half of literary horror. Apart from infrequent moments of supernatural peril (which do include an excellent climax, to Ward’s credit), this book left me more sad than frightened. That being said, the empathy and authenticity with which Ward’s walking wounded characters are rendered is thoroughly engrossing. It’s never stated in so many words, but “we haunt each other” is the core message I took away from the book.

#ReviewArchive #BookReview #Horror #LookingGlassSound #CatrionaWard #SpiralTowerPress

This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on December 28, 2023.

Conan the Barbarian #6

By Jim Zub (Writer) and Doug Braithwaite (Artist) – Titan Comics – January 3, 2024

Review by Robin Marx

Titan Comics’ Conan the Barbarian issue 6 opens immediately after the previous issue left off. Conan and the Gloryhounds—the overambitious band of thieves Conan is effectively babysitting—have succeeded in getting their hands on Tarim’s Touch, only to discover that careless handling of the black stone relic has unleashed a trio of ravening spectral guardians. Trapped between an incorporeal threat and a temple swarming with alerted Bel worshipers, Conan and the thieves must battle their way to freedom.

Despite the considerable gap in time and geographical distance between the current events and those of Conan the Barbarian issues 1-4, in “Thrice Marked for Death! Part II: Cursed” writer Jim Zub makes plain the connections to the previous “Bound in Black Stone” story arc. It’s confirmed that Tarim’s Touch is composed of the same supernaturally infused black stone that had such a malevolent effect on the Cimmerian countryside, and the specters that escaped from the relic follow the same dark tentacled god that Conan faced off against in his homeland. In the Marvel Comics and Dark Horse versions of the Conan the Barbarian comic, even the longest plotlines were generally neatly confined to a single arc of about five or six issues, so it’s interesting to see Zub attempt some longer-form storytelling in the Titan Comics incarnation. Conan’s adventures aren’t necessarily desperately crying out for ongoing continuity, but I’m not opposed to its introduction.

As hoped, Conan’s slain pirate queen Bêlit (originally appearing in Robert E. Howard’s 1934 Weird Tales story “Queen of the Black Coast”) makes another appearance through flashbacks. In the previous issue, the tragic loss of Bêlit is used to explain Conan’s current state of nihilistic dissolution, but here it highlights that Conan already has some experience with spirits and the afterlife, even before encountering the specters from the black stone. Where Bêlit’s fierce love allowed her soul to briefly return from the realm of the dead and save Conan’s life at the climax of “Queen of the Black Coast” (also a scene adapted and given to Valeria in the 1982 Conan the Barbarian film), now he faces spirits resurrected to kill again in their master’s name. As a fan of the original Howard stories, I appreciate seeing the events of the classic tales incorporated into newer adventures in this way. However, I suspect that newcomers unfamiliar with the “Queen of the Black Coast” short story or its previous comic adaptations may not be getting the full effect of the Bêlit flashbacks.

The artwork continues to appeal. Diego Rodriguez does some excellent work with the color in this issue. After so many sepia-toned scenes lit by torch and lantern-light in the previous issue, the unearthly green glow of the specters has real impact. In terms of the line artwork, I still think Doug Braithwaite makes Conan’s face too lined for this early stage in his life, but that can be explained away as the Cimmerian’s lack of access to sunscreen. On a more positive note, Braithwaite shows him wearing the classic disc-shaped necklace from the earliest issues of Marvel’s 1970s Conan the Barbarian, a fun visual throwback to Barry Windsor-Smith’s depiction of the character.

Conan the Barbarian issue 6 answers some questions while raising several more. I’m excited to learn more about the black stone and its ghostly servants, and I hope to continue to see Conan’s past with Bêlit influence his current adventure.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on December 23, 2023.

The Doom of Odin

By Scott Oden – St. Martin's Press – December 19, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

Third and final volume in the GRIMNIR SAGA, The Doom of Odin begins where many tales would end. The year is 1347, and Grimnir—the last skraelingr (i.e., orc)—has doggedly tracked his nemesis to Rome, a dying city decimated by the black plague. After nearly 130 years of pursuit, it is there that he plans to fulfill his oath to destroy the resurrected wyrm Níðhöggr, Odin’s chosen weapon and the ancient enemy of Grimnir’s people. As he’s closing in on Níðhöggr’s lair, however, Grimnir is felled by a crossbow bolt loosed by a terrified mercenary. Just like that, a legendary warrior seasoned by a thousand years of battle is snuffed out by a single lucky shot.

Grimnir awakens in Nástrond, a grim realm at the base of the World Tree Yggðrasil. A dark mirror of the humans’ Valhalla, Nástrond is where Grimnir’s extinct people feast, intrigue, and brawl. The family reunion is an acrimonious one, however, as his parents, cousins, and myriad half-brothers despise him as an upstart outsider. The contempt is mutual, as Grimnir feels his fellows have strayed from Loki’s path, more concerned with social jockeying and establishing petty kingdoms than honing each other through constant warfare in preparation for Ragnarök. A treacherous ambush cuts short Grimnir’s afterlife, but while “slain” souls in Nástrond are typically revived a few hours later, Grimnir instead finds himself unceremoniously shunted back into the world of the living. Subsequent deaths catapult Grimnir back and forth between Rome and the Worlds Below, where he doggedly pursues his goals in parallel. In the world of the living, he continues his quest to destroy Níðhöggr and thwart the wyrm’s master, Odin. When in the afterlife, Grimnir strives to discover the source of his mysterious resilience and the role he is destined to play in the final battle of Ragnarök.

Norse mythology figured heavily in both A Gathering of Ravens and Twilight of the Gods. But while the gods and creatures of Scandinavian folklore were marginalized by the encroachment of Christianity in the first two volumes of the GRIMNIR SAGA, having so much of the final book’s action take place in otherworldly realms allows Scott Oden to pull out all the stops, delivering a phantasmagorical epic packed with Scandinavian spirits and monsters. In The Doom of Odin humans are mostly anonymous rabble rather than the central characters they were previously. Instead, Grimnir finds himself struggling against the souls of his vanquished race, fey witches, undead draugar, winged murder-crones, giants, and Odin himself. While the story is consequently less grounded in our historical world than previous volumes, the cosmic elements feel like a natural escalation at this point in the narrative. Oden creates the sense that not only is Ragnarök nigh, it’s also just two steps away.

After following Grimnir’s exploits over two books as the sole surviving skraelingr, it was fascinating seeing him thrown in among his own people. Grimnir’s cocksure bravado and casual cruelty seem ubiquitous among his kind; they act like jackals, constantly circling each other, waiting for an opening to strike. While the skraelingar clearly share a certain base disposition, their personalities are given enough nuance to keep them from feeling one-dimensional. The fierce warrior woman Skaði is a special highlight, especially after seeing Grimnir mostly interact with smaller, more fragile human women in the previous books.

Even compared to the first two volumes, The Doom of Odin revels in vicious, graphic violence. Skulls are smashed and entrails are spilt, and it’s all rendered in vivid detail. Much like the story’s stakes had been raised, it felt like the brutality had been taken up a few notches as well. This wasn’t a negative point for me, if anything it created the sense that Grimnir was truly unchained for the first time, giving in to his empowering rage in a way most works of entertainment warn against. Sensitive readers might find themselves skimming some passages, however.

A minor issue I had with The Doom of Odin is that the cast of characters is considerably larger than before, and Old Norse mythological terms more frequently encountered. There were occasions when I had trouble keeping track of who some of the minor characters were, or what a given branch of the World Tree signified. It was only upon finishing the book that I discovered that a combination glossary/dramatis personae had been tucked away in the back. This appendix would have smoothed over the few rough patches in my reading journey if only the book had drawn my attention to it earlier, perhaps in a table of contents.

Packed with world-shaking events and operatic struggle, The Doom of Odin is an immensely satisfying conclusion to Grimnir’s saga. One of grimdark’s most compelling characters gets exactly the bloody send-off he deserves. Grimnir’s tale couldn’t have ended any other way.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on December 5, 2023.

Twilight of the Gods

By Scott Oden – St. Martin's Press – February 18, 2020

Review by Robin Marx

It is the year 1218, and deep in the wilds of Scandinavia there is a sense that Fimbulvetr, the final winter presaging Ragnarök, is at hand. While the Norse, Danes, and Swedes neighboring them have adopted Christianity, the isolated Raven-Geat tribe reject the so-called “Nailed God” and cling to the old ways. Though surrounded by enemies, the Raven-Geats have a protector known as the Hooded One, immortal herald of the Tangled God Loki. As Twilight of the Gods opens, hot-blooded teenage girl Dísa Dagrúnsdottir has just been chosen by the Fates to serve as the Hooded One’s new priestess. She is shocked to learn that the truculent and mercurial guardian of her people is a literal monster: Grimnir, last of the kaunr, what we would call an orc. As Dísa attempts to survive her new master’s cruel ordeals, a greater threat looms just out of sight. A haunted and deranged zealot fresh from the sack of Constantinople plots a new personal Crusade, one to exterminate the heathen Raven-Geats and unite the Scandinavian peninsula under the White Christ.

Set two centuries after the events of A Gathering of Ravens, Twilight of the Gods is the second volume in Scott Oden’s GRIMNIR SAGA. Twilight of the Gods manages to be both more intimate and more epic than its predecessor. Where A Gathering of Ravens spans more than a decade, roaming from Denmark to England and then Ireland, Twilight of the Gods mostly confines itself to the wilderness of what is now Sweden. The cast of characters is smaller, but the stakes are much higher. While the first book primarily dealt with a personal vendetta, this time a reluctant Grimnir finds himself called upon both to defend the humans he’s been parasitically lording over for generations and fulfill his role in a prophesized religious war threatening to spark the end of the world.

Twilight of the Gods is a book drenched in both grim Norse fatalism and blood & thunder heroics. The novels in the Grimnir Saga depict a North where the Old Gods are in decline. Grimnir is the last of his kind, and other once respected and feared supernatural creatures have likewise become relegated to the margins of the world or gone extinct entirely. The influence of Odin and the old pantheon wanes, displaced by the encroaching Christian faith. For Grimnir and many of the other characters in this book, there’s a pervading feeling that the war has already been lost, yet for various reasons they still gear up to fight one last glorious battle. And readers familiar with Oden’s other work, from the previous Grimnir novel to historical adventures like Men of Bronze and The Lion of Cairo, know that Oden can deliver that final battle with gusto. Simultaneously rousing and horrifying, the combats in this novel blend cinematic action with gory, gritty, down-in-the-mud struggle.

As with A Gathering of Ravens, appealing characters are another strong point in Twilight of the Gods. Oden treads a delicate line with his hero Grimnir; he must appear monstrous enough to feel like an “authentic” orc and not just a brutish costumed human, but not so repellent that the reader finds themselves unable to relate to the character or enjoy his exploits. Grimnir is bellicose, capricious, spiteful, and arrogant. He’s casually brutal and an unrepentant murderer. But he’s also an orc of his word, and never fails to repay a debt. In his dealings with humans, who Grimnir views as little more than animals, Oden also imbues him with a mischievous, amused paternalism. Grimnir may not have a heart of gold, but he’s not an outright villain, either. To preserve Grimnir’s mystique, Oden wisely provides primary viewpoint character Dísa as a counterbalance and foil. Imperfect and impetuous, and sharing more than a little of Grimnir’s arrogance, Dísa is an entertaining heroine to follow. Her undying determination is admirable, and it’s interesting to watch her learn when to push back against Grimnir and when to (grudgingly) accept his brusque guidance.

Despite the exceptional quality of the book, Twilight of the Gods had the misfortune of launching in February 2020, roughly simultaneously with the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. With all the societal upheaval, store closures, cancelled events, and supply chain issues that followed, I suspect unlucky timing and curtailed promotions prevented this volume from attracting the audience it deserved. Now is an ideal time to read Twilight of the Gods, however. Its conclusion will leave readers wanting more, just as more is about to arrive: The Doom of Odin, book 3 in THE GRIMNIR SAGA, is scheduled to be released on December 19, 2023.

Wholeheartedly recommended for fans of Vikings, orcs, Viking orcs, tough heroines, Scandinavian metal, and doomed battles against incredible odds.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on December 3, 2023.

Conan the Barbarian #5

By Jim Zub (Writer) and Doug Braithwaite (Artist) – Titan Comics – November 22, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

Issue 5 of Titan Comics’ Conan the Barbarian begins several months after the conclusion of the “Bound in Black Stone” story arc. Since putting his homeland of Cimmeria behind him, Conan has journeyed across much of the continent and even put to sea as a member of a pirate crew. After loving and losing freebooter queen Bêlit, however, Conan is a drunken shell of a man. He passes his days in disreputable taverns in the even more notorious city of Shadizar, earning his drinking coin acting as a hired thug for an ambitious band of thieves calling themselves the Gloryhounds. Constantly pushing their luck, the aptly named Gloryhounds drag a reluctant Conan into their most audacious heist yet: an attempt to filch Tarim’s Touch—a religious relic carved from dark stone—from the very heart of the Temple of Bel, patron god of thieves.

Thus begins the “Thrice Marked for Death” storyline. While Jim Zub continues to handle the writing duties (and is expected to do so for at least the first two years), the change in artwork is instantly noticeable. Scheduled to return with Conan the Barbarian issue 9, Roberto De La Torre is taking a well-deserved break and letting UK artist Doug Braithwaite deliver the artwork for this second arc. Unlike De La Torre’s classic John Buscema-inspired lines, Braithwaite has a thoroughly modern style comparable to the newer Dark Horse and Marvel depictions. Facially, his Conan looks a bit craggier than I would expect for this point in the barbarian’s career (ostensibly still his mid-twenties), but it’s not a bad likeness. The color artist is now Diego Rodriguez, who has given the artwork a sepia cast that suits the torch-lit environs in this issue. While I thoroughly enjoyed De La Torre’s artwork in the previous issues, Braithwaite’s artwork is also appealing and feels appropriate. If this first issue is any indication, it appears that we can expect his combat scenes to be slightly bloodier and more explicit than De La Torre’s. Decapitations may have been ubiquitous in De La Torre’s Conan the Barbarian run, but Braithwaite seems to give Rodriguez many opportunities to reach for the red paint.

Conan the Barbarian #5 is set after the events of Robert E. Howard’s 1934 Weird Tales story “Queen of the Black Coast.” It’s briefly touched upon in flashback panels, but readers curious about Conan’s career as a pirate and his tragic, whirlwind romance with Bêlit are encouraged to look there, or perhaps even the 1970s Marvel Comics or 2012 Dark Horse adaptations of the story. For those who are unfamiliar with “Queen of the Black Coast,” Howard scholar Jeffrey Shanks provides some additional background, including spotlighting how it provides rare insight into Conan’s personal philosophy. For my part, I approve of Zub’s choice to deliver new adventures occurring between the original short stories, rather than add to the already tall pile of adaptations. While Conan becomes entangled with a wide variety of women during his later career, I’ve always had the sense that Bêlit was as close as the barbarian ever got to a soulmate, and I’m interested to see if Zub continues to explore Conan’s grief and the aftermath of her death in future issues.

While I was left a little deflated by the finale of the previous plotline, Conan the Barbarian #5 marks a promising start for the second story arc. Braithwaite has a very different visual style than his predecessor, but his gory theatrics a good fit for the series.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on November 28, 2023.

Conan: Lord of the Mount

By Stephen Graham Jones – Titan Books – September 26, 2022

Review by Robin Marx

Lord of the Mount opens with Conan as the last survivor of a vanquished raiding party. Surrounded by the dead, as the battered barbarian’s consciousness returns the first shapes that come into view are that of a small group of cattle and their herder. The eyes of both the cows and the man tending them have a strange purple tinge to them, hinting at long term use of the intoxicating powder of the black lotus. Wary of the shifty lotus addict, Conan nevertheless accepts a meal of wine and steak—carved directly from the flanks of the passive, drugged cattle—from the man. Known as Jen Ro, the herdsman tells Conan of his destination: the village of Trinnecerl, where ale and women are plentiful. He warns that the mountain pass leading to the village is guarded by a fearsome monster, however, the so-called Lord of the Mount. With no better destination in mind, the rootless barbarian wanderer elects to accompany Jen Ro, hoping to indulge himself in the pleasures Trinnecerl has to offer and see this Lord of the Mount for himself. Conan soon finds himself fighting for his life against a foe unlike any he has faced before.

Lord of the Mount is the first installment in the Heroic Legends series of monthly digital short stories starring Conan the Barbarian and other pulp fiction heroes created by Robert E. Howard. While not the first piece of new Conan fiction produced via the partnership between Titan Books and Howard franchise owner Heroic Signatures (that would be the Conan – Blood of the Serpent novel by S. M. Stirling), news of the Heroic Legends series was welcomed by Conan and Howard fans for a number of reasons. One was that the Conan stories and the sword & sorcery subgenre of fantasy as a whole originated as short stories and still tend to be most at home in that format. Another reason was the roster of authors listed with the series announcement. Experienced and reliable Conan authors such as John C. Hocking and Scott Oden were present and accounted for, yes, but there were also unexpected curve-balls like Laird Barron and V. Castro. Of the latter group, Stephen Graham Jones was a particularly anticipated contributor, as not only is his star currently ascendant within the horror genre (a field with considerable overlap with sword & sorcery), but his 2021 autobiographical Texas Monthly essay My Life With Conan the Barbarian had already fostered a sense of kinship among many sword & sorcery fans. Jones gets it, he’s one of us. We wanted to see what he could do with the character.

The strong points of Lord of the Mount are its minimalist premise and brisk pace. No time is wasted getting to the good stuff. The scene is set, Conan hits the road, and a knock-down, drag-out battle with the Lord of the Mount follows.

Unfortunately, Lord of the Mount is not entirely successful. Unlike many Conan pastiche writers, Jones made little effort to emulate Howard’s writing style. But he also didn’t seem to write in the colloquial, almost folksy voice Jones used in other works like The Only Good Indians. The result is sort of a hybrid, neither fish nor foul. Dissimilar to Howard, but also not quite Jones’ natural narrative voice.

The portrayal of Conan also felt off in parts. During his battle with the Lord of the Mount, in multiple instances Conan is described as “screaming.” Conan has never struck me as much of a screamer, but even if he had occasion to scream at least some of these screams should have been changed to “bellows” or “roars” for variety’s sake. Also, when Conan reunites with Jen Ro in the story’s denouement he reacts as if he has been subjected to a betrayal worthy of violent retribution. However, at the beginning of the story Jen Ro is pretty forthright when describing the danger of the Lord of the Mount and the means he uses to evade it, making Conan’s rage feel excessive and unwarranted.

While I expected more from a Stephen Graham Jones take on Conan, Lord of the Mount is still worth the small price of admission. I appreciate Titan Books’ willingness to go beyond safe and expected Conan writers, giving readers a chance to see a variety of different interpretations and portrayals of a familiar character.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on November 24, 2023.

Old Moon Quarterly: Issue 5, Summer 2023

By Old Moon Publishing – August 29, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

Old Moon Quarterly has returned with its third installment of the year. Like previous issues, OMQ serves up an intriguing mix of grimdark and weird sword & sorcery fiction. Vol. 5 cover artist Derek Moore delivers the magazine’s most striking cover artwork to date: a skeleton in full plate harness equipped with a bec de corbin polearm. There are no interior illustrations or advertisements in this 89-page issue, and the text is presented in a single column layout.

After a brief Introduction expressing a desire to see more cerebral sword & sorcery tales in the vein of Robert E. Howard’s King Kull of Atlantis (as opposed to the more direct action yarns featuring Conan and his ilk), the issue opens with “Together Under the Wing,” by Jonathan Olfert. A Stone Age revenge tale with a twist, this story involves a young warrior driven to avenge the murder of his mother, the matriarch of their people. The wrinkle is that the protagonist, Walks-like-a-Rockslide, is a sentient mammoth with bladed tusks and his foe is the king of the giants. Appropriately, given the stature of these clashing titans, the struggle that follows is imbued with a palpable sense of momentum and inevitability. Mammoth and Giant King circle, close, and deal grievous wounds to each other. While the events of the narrative are straightforward, the unusual hero and heavy atmosphere of finality make this story stand out.

K.H. Vaughan’s “Champions Against the Maggot King” is another story that focuses on conjuring a very specific mood. The narrator, Grath, is a grunt in an imperial army locked in a desperate war against the monstrous hordes of the titular Maggot King. The story is presented as a series of vignettes showcasing both the formidable odds the soldiers are facing and the handful of elite heroes who may just be able to turn the tide. Sorrow Mai is a warrior woman with a massive axe and a “leather cuirass boiled in blood.” Ilhar, also called “The Raven,” is an untouchable elven duelist with a darkly poetic heart. Ko-Mon the Heartless is a scarred dwarf who wields an enchanted war chain that is powered by his pain. All these characters are anime levels of over-the-top and portrayed in a worshipful tone by Grath. Their enemies are likewise epic, especially the decomposing dragon that drips clumps of rotting flesh as it strafes the beleaguered troops below. There’s much in this story that’s excessive and even perhaps silly, but Vaughan absolutely sells it with a straight face. “Champions Against the Maggot King” is a grimdark treat that should appeal to fans of the Berserk and Bastard!! -Heavy Metal, Dark Fantasy- anime series as well as enthusiasts of The Black Company and The Malazan Book of the Fallen.

In a first for Old Moon Quarterly, issue 5 includes two poems: “The King’s Two Bodies” by Joe Koch, and Zachary Bos’ “A Warning Agaynste Woldes.” “The King’s Two Bodies” is vividly lyrical, if perhaps a bit opaque. “A Warning Agaynste Woldes,” however, was peppered with Old English and tedious to decipher. The poetry didn’t add much to this issue, in this reviewer’s opinion, but I would not be opposed to seeing more verse in the future.

“The Origin of Boghounds,” by Amelia Gorman, is another grimdark entry. Boghounds are dog-like creatures of unknown pedigree. When a bounty hunter named Samphire discovers Hum, the boghound companion of her mountebank target, she decides to use the boghound to track down its master. The pair face stiff opposition in the form of two competing bounty hunters, however, and the situation becomes even more lethal when together they all discover the monstrous and delightfully gross progenitor of the boghounds. This story is packed to the brim with entertaining weirdness. The characters are all quirky and strange, like NPCs from the Dark Souls video games, and the world is evocatively rendered despite the story’s brevity.

David K. Henrickson’s “Well Met at the Gates of Hell” is one of the more sword & sorcery-oriented tales in this issue. A nameless man awakens on a barren plain, under a starless sky. Three figures await him: a massive paladin with a glowing sword, a small dagger-wielding man with a hateful smile, and a 12-foot-tall praying mantis. The trio wish to kill the new arrival for his past offenses and have agreed among themselves to engage him in single combat, one at a time. The story that follows is a triptych of duels shot through with witty repartee reminiscent of The Princess Bride. The protagonist—I hesitate to call him the hero, his enemies seem justified in their hatred of him—and his opponents are all vague sketches, but Henrickson makes the minimalism work. The result is a completely fat-free story that gives the reader just enough to satiate them and not an ounce further. This was the highlight of the issue for me.

“The Skulls of Ghosts,” by Charles Gramlich, is another sword & sorcery adventure. The muscular warrior Krieg journeys into a plague-ridden kingdom trying to locate the malady’s sorcerous origin. While there is a lot to like about this story, it suffered by following “Well Met at the Gates of Hell.” There’s some nicely hallucinatory prose here—the story shares many characteristics with the King Kull tales celebrated in this issue’s Introduction—but “The Skulls of Ghosts” felt long and overstuffed compared to the other stories in issue #5. There were more named characters and backstory than seemed truly necessary, and the evil sorcerer’s habit of assuming other characters’ identities was confusing. The components of a good story are present, but it would have benefited from some trimming and tightening.

“Today, I met a man I had killed before,” opens “The Headsman’s Melancholy” by Joseph Andre Thomas. Set in 14th century England, the final story of the issue is related by Jack Marvell, an executioner in the employ of King Henry IV. While he professes job satisfaction, Marvell keeps a diary to help cope with his depression, and this story consists of a series of journal entries describing his encounters with a strange knave he has beheaded on multiple occasions. Bizarre and gleefully gory, with a cryptic ending, “The Headsman’s Melancholy” is oddly compelling. A fitting conclusion to a strong issue of Old Moon Quarterly.

Unlike some more generalist fantasy fiction magazines, Old Moon Quarterly gives the sense of a very specific editorial vision. A desired vibe. Their submission guidelines call for “dark and weird sword & sorcery,” and while that’s not inaccurate, it feels like it insufficiently articulates what makes a given story Old Moon Quarterly material. With the launch of their first Kickstarter campaign, however, it seems like the editors have zeroed in on a pithy way to describe the type of fiction they showcase: “Soulsborne-inspired.” In short, if you enjoy the brutal, gothic, grimdark aesthetic of From Software’s Dark Souls and Bloodborne video games, Old Moon Quarterly curates fiction with a similar feel. Old Moon Quarterly is recommended for dark fantasy fans of all stripes, but for those yearning for that elusive Soulsborne atmosphere in particular, this is the place.

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