Very hard to write again. Been quiet too long.

Sunday 17 December 2017

Review: Wolf Riders, Warhammer Fantasy Anthology

Ooh, this is a long one isn't it? I should really stay the hell away from anthologies. The blog posts on those tend to blow up way out of proportion to the time actually spent on them. I used to think; ah, a lovely, quick little read... Not so much anymore.

Wolf Riders is the first ever published short story anthology by GamesWorkshop. Originally published under Boxtree Limited, later reprinted under GamesWorkshop's own publishing imprint GW Books. This is the latter's edition.


It's quite a pretty one too. Despite the drab green and dark colours with the ill advised red square framing the slightly creepy artwork on the front there's a few surprises to be found inside. On the cover we have the hammer and wings symbol (which I'm sure was not long for the world), which is reflective, as is the novel's name and the editor David Pringle's name on the spine and the GW logo on the spine and back. And if you're suddenly beset with a craving for potato chips, don't worry, I feel it too.

Open the book and you're met with this:


Full colour frontispiece. Which is something I've not seen in the Black Library's output other than in their limited edition novels. Oh, how the times have changed, huh?
No, not really, Games Workshop have always put care into the presentation of their novel, these times you'll just have to pay extra for that little extra.

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I just wish they would occasionally ease up on the reins so that the writers could do whatever they wanted to make the stories stand out more.
Warhammer needs a series to truly transcend the setting, to bring in a new audience but most of all: to have novels stand the test of time because as it stands this shit will be forgotten in a hundred years. And it's when I realise this that I wonder why I'm reading them. For fun I guess, to take a break from all the thinking.

In terms of contenders to stand the test of time I guess 40k has Gaunt's Ghosts but I don't believe Warhammer Fantasy ever had any series to deserve that distinction.
And what a shame that is. Imagine a series worthy to be called the Malazan of the Old World.
But I guess it's too late now, huh, and the Age of Sigmar doesn't seem up to that particular task.
Anyway, enough musing and reminiscing, moving on.

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We kick off the collection at what might be the earliest Gotrek and Felix story ever published in an anthology. It's actually the second Gotrek and Felix short story, after GeheimnisNacht, that make up, together with a a bunch of short stories, the first Gotrek and Felix novel; Trollslayer:

Wolf Riders



The short story from where the collection gets its title is truly a standout. If not in plot, which could be called fairly standard and unremarkable, if it wasn't actually a Gotrek and Felix tale; one of if not the best series in the Warhammer setting.

William King's voice is singular and pleasingly readable, the words springing off the page with the smooth flow of a natural storyteller. He's one of those writers who seems to have mastered his craft effortlessly and he's gone on to write quite a bit of fiction, including alot of non-warhammer stuff. Reading the story reminds me that he is the writer who brought me directly into both Warhammer Fantasy and Warhammer 40k, via Gotrek and Felix, and the Space Wolf series respectively. I owe him quite a debt, really, or a good kick to the gonads, some days I'm not sure.

Dear lord, Gotrek...
Where's your beard?

Gotrek and Felix fall in with the exiled Von Diehl family in their search for a new place to settle. Felix, to follow a girl around. Gotrek, on Felix's coaxing; in future reward of gold and for a possible chance to fulfill his Slayer's Doom.
But the journey is fraught with danger and death, as Felix learns, from a family curse that will not stop before all the Von Diehls and their retainers are all dead. Necromancy, sorcery, orcs and monsters stalk the caravan and Gotrek might come face to face with his doom sooner than expected.


Of course he doesn't. The first book in a series of 14(?) is not going to kill off its primary character.
He does get a very distinctive wounding here, though, one that'll remain with him until the end.
And what is the end, you ask? Ahh, well. Who can tell with Gotrek. He ends up somewhere so incredible, so far off from a paltry death at the hands of orcs, that reading the early tales can make an in-the-know reader smirk a little. But I'll leave off here; the whole thing shouldn't be spoiled for anyone who hasn't read it themselves. At any rate, I didn't read beyond Giantslayer , I think, always wanted to but BL never reprinted that fourth omnibus, I moved off a bit  and by the time I got back into the universe, there were rumblings of doom afoot.

I do hope the Black Library will get off their assess and finally reprint AN ADEQUATE AMOUNT of the series in those fancy new collector's box sets that they've been releasing. I emphasise adequate because I didn't get a chance to pick up the fourth Gotrek and Felix omnibus when it was released. Supply was so poorly tailored to demand that you'll have to pay upwards of 70 euros to get it second hand these days. They like to choke their own market, you see. Just enough to satisfy their core audience so that they're assured of their money and they can up the retail price, which only adds to the inconvenience of their wider audience that ends up just getting get left out.

Yes, I'm still sore. A long relationship where one side has to swallow alot of the other's bullshit has a lot of tiny grievances building up into something ugly. I'll chill out now, though.


The Tilean Rat


This little slice of humour is brought to you by Sandy Mitchell, he of Ciaphas Cain fame. The Ciaphas Cain books form an entertaining Imperial Guard commissar series that is usually, and aptly, described as 40k by way of Blackadder, from the dry sarcasm down to the small malodorous sidekick.
The Tilean Rat here on the other hand, is a tale set in the Warhammer Fantasy setting inspired by the Maltese Falcon and unlike in his 40k series it has the small malodorous sidekick as front and center stage, except without the smell and with a healthy dose of almost sarcasm-less sleuthing beneath his little hairy halfling feet.

Passable art, although that elf looks distinctly masculine.
Not at all what I imagined a syrupy-voiced elven redhead to look like...

Apparently this short story is part of a set of detective stories in Marienburg. The Tilean Rat is the case where the halfling detective is hired by a beautiful elven refugee to reclaim an heirloom that has been stolen from her hotel room. Nothing is what it seems though, and with Marienburg enveloped in a thick fog, mystery and danger lurk around every corner and Sam will have to watch where he puts his hobbits noses if he doesn't want to have it bitten off. 

I might have given the impression above that Sam is immediately taken in by his beautiful employer but there's on the contrary a healthy dose of humorous cynicism. The humour throughout is something that elvates the story. Short and pleasant, though the earlier works of WH fantasy tend to jar slightly with the later fiction. An elven quarter, really? These days, the elves would be too proud to even deign to live alongside humans, I'm thinking. But as it's rare to see halfling stories in Warhammer I'll take what I get. A good example of how varied the warhammer fiction can (or could) be.

The Phantom of Yremy


In the town of Yremy a judge and his clerk, long busying themselves with inventing and sentencing clever judgment on criminals find first the town, and later themselves, beset by a stealthy and shadowy figure stealing various items seemingly at random. When the so-called Phantom then personally threatens the judge, giving him an ultimatum set to run out at the end of three days, the thievery is set to escalate into murder and for the judge to become the judged.
A teller tales his tale.

The Phantom is another one of those stories that showcase the variety of the tales that could be set in the Warhammer world's early days. A bare minimum of violence, and then only to punctuate a slow-burn (for a short story) mystery. The extreme opposite of what you'll find in any given Black Library novel these days. During the publication of Wolf Riders it's still so early in the game, that it becomes clear that the setting, or its fiction at least, was almost unformed and still in the progress of figuring out what it wanted to be.

It's not a particularly good tale, as the mystery is rather bare-bones and once you realize there genuinely is only just a human mystery at the heart of the matter, motive readily presents itself and suggests that there can only really be one candidate for the titular phantom.

Still, it has a certain charm, as if you're watching an earnest but not very talented group of actors make an effort to do something different.


When done the thing that stands out most is the story's, admittedly not too frequent, descriptions of casual brutality which are the hallmark of ironic writers, such as Terry Pratchett, when they wish to illustrate the absurdity of some matter or other, by giving deadpan descriptions of those things you might, through cultural shoulder-rubbing or other general familiarity, have become quite inured to.
By casually throwing it out there, black on white, without context and stripped bare, the cruelty or idiocy becomes unmistakable.
Problem is though, I was genuinely appalled at some of these descriptions here. They went beyond darkly humorous straight into the realm of the grotesque. I don't know, maybe I was feeling a mite bit fragile when reading this one, as I've read alot worse.

It's also my first encounter, I think, with Brian (Stableford) Craig whose Orfeo trilogy, also set in the Warhammer universe, I'm in the process of collecting and whose Wine of Dreams I'm eyeing right now, sitting high and dry on my shelf.
Apparently Wine of Dreams is consistently rated as one of the best stand alone Old Warhammer stories out there. Colour me intrigued.

I also noticed during reading this one, that the full colour map at the back actually makes special mention of Yremy, together with other locations mentioned in some of the other short stories.


It's fascinating how odd this map looks though. Comparing reveals it's not far off from the later day day maps but the Empire is definitely distressingly small, nothing like the prime player it will become. (At least in my mind and the most interesting one to read about.)
For the most part though, seems like the world was pretty much set in parchment from the beginning.
Although... 'To the New World'? Guess the Dark Elves weren's so present yet.

Cry of the Beast



In a small hut by the ocean Tomas lives with his foster father, the halfling Brodie. Together, they spend the days fishing, selling and trading their catch in a nearby village.
When the young man wakes one night to strange, unnatural cries from the ocean he goes out and finds a young elven maiden washed up ashore. When nourished back to health she tells her tale, and with it comes screaming horror.

Heh, I actually thought I knew how this would go. It's not as if there's a twist to be found here but Ralph Castle slyly plays into expectations and throws some suggestions here and there to then neatly and brutally subvert them at the end.
Not very well written, a teeny bit clichéd and slightly throwaway if I'm honest, but nonetheless entertaining.


Also, unlike with the Tilean Rat, the artwork is spot on.
Though, sometimes, seeing depicted what one describes could be a good incentive to being more consistent in one's imagination.

No Gold in the Grey Mountains


A small band of criminals have taken up residence in the ill-rumoured castle Drachenfels and have been using its ruined grounds to stage their robbing of the nearby road.
When a travelling coach arrives, expected to be bearing a load of taxed gold from a nearby mine they find instead of the promised gold a little girl, rich, by dress and manner. Turning a bad situation into a good one they take the girl with them with the idea of selling her back to her family for ransom.
But when they arrive in their walled lair they find that something old and hungry is in there with them, stalking in the shadows.


Aaah, Jack Yeovil, the pseudonym of the renowned Kim Newman. Likely the best writer in this anthology. William King might be a master storyteller, but Newman is more than equal to the task in skill. Details squirreled away in every sentence, forming a rich layer to the story, wholly believable and interesting characters and twist and turns to the tune of an exciting narrative.
And I'm not even exaggerating.
If you read one of this collection, let it be this one.

No gold in the Grey Mountains is one of the stories that makes up Silver Nails, one of the four Vampire Genevieve novels. It alludes to events of, I think, book 1 in the quartet.

I had already read it but the re-read was a welcome one.
I also seemed to remember it wrong and was pleased to realize that I had a few surprises coming.
Thoroughly enjoyable.

In 2018 The Black Library will re-release one of the Vampire Genevieve novels in a new edition.
You can expect a review for that one when it comes, I'm actually excited for a re-read. Newman always stood apart from the rest of the stable and I'll be interesting to see the tale with older eyes.

The Hammer of The Stars

The young scholar-squire Peredur, together with his cousin Saskia, watch a band of travelers arrive in the Empire city of Wurtbad, claiming a strange and secret quest. There are introductions. More names than pages.
And then some violence.


Well, what did I think of this one?
 Over the course of 2 hours this one made me literally wonder aloud if I had suddenly become stupid, or if I had had something happen to me that was impairing my brain function.
I did not understand maybe a tenth of what I was reading and whatever came in through my eyes just kept on going and tumbled straight out the back of my head. I had nothing to hold on to and sentences seemed to be completely unconnected from the ones surrounding them. Names and places passed in front of my eyes and I could not connect them to the characters on the page. 
Do you understand? I was literally worried for my health during reading this. I went and looked in the mirror to see if half my face had gone droopy. It hadn't.
Turned out The Hammer of the Stars was just horribly written.

For a while I didn't even know who the main character was. 
I think it was Peredur.
I'm reasonably sure it was Peredur. When the three central characters are on the page, one of them is a girl called Saskia Whiteflower and another a 30 year old called Brother Martin, then that last one, the centrallest, must be Peredur, right? RIGHT? (Relax, you have no way of knowing this. Just as I did not.)

Now, I dislike giving a negative view on anything and I've dropped writing about something more often than not because of it. But the dead hear no criticism, and with no ears to hear, Peter Garrat is way past caring when I call him a shit writer. 
He might've been good in other stories. But in this one he was awful.

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I wrote the above about halfway through reading the short story.
Now that I'm done with it I'm much more inclined to look on it with a benevolent eye (like always when I get done with something) and though I don't want to go analyzing why I felt what I did, and still to a lesser degree do, I'm gonna go ahead anyway and try and be quick about it.
The impression I'm getting is that the author edited his story down wherever and whenever he could, to the extent that there is almost nothing here unless it is restricted to its absolute barest minimum. It technically works but it feels so disjointed that whole sentences seem and in fact do stand alone.
The story also kind of peters out, and since it practically sets the stage for a continuation that it actually never got, it still really sucks.


Pulg's Grand Carnival


When the young albino Hans arrives in the city of Krugenheim he expects things to be different. A new life away from the insults, the jests and the laughter at his appearance or the veiled mutterings of 'mutant', but he is soon disappointed as he is assaulted right through the gate. Fate's on his side though, as he is rescued by the proprietor of a carnival who takes him under his wing and back to a veritable menagerie of monstrosities. Together with the other employees, Hans tries to make the best of his new life as a circus hand, but in a land where the exotic and the foreign are looked upon as dangerous and corrupting, a whole compound full of outlandish creatures excite more than a little ill will and soon dark clouds begin to gather.

Humans riding wyverns. Hmm.

It's another acceptable short story if not exactly a good one, with a delivery, characters and storyline very unlike the later Warhammer tales. In the later books it's all about action and war and this is nothing at all like it, just like some of the other stories in this collection. 

There's a magic flute which I thought was an odd thing to put in there, especially since it doesn't end up doing very much and as it's introduced so early in the story you naturally expect it to matter more.
The resolution is off and one of those that seems to just set up a continuation rather than being a satisfying piece of writing on its own.

An interesting story with shades of The Circus of Doctor Lao (which always makes of me a very benevolent reviewer), especially in its treatment of animals and its petty human characters and their attitudes and relationships with the monsters.

The Way of the Witchfinder


Witchfinder in training Florian is sent by his mentor to the Brettonian coastal town of Ora Lamae, divinely inspired dreams telling of a great evil corrupting that place. The task and journey ahead is a hard one, worthy of a true witchfinder and will serve as Florian's crucible. But has Florian prepared enough? Has he been tempered enough, in body, in mind?
 
Back to the grindstone with the last tale of the collection. Also not a great one with out of place oddities here and there still keeping this one from being a good one. However, the attitudes of the Witchfinder in question are actually pretty great. Genuinely heroic and (foolishly, lamentably, damningly) compassionate, as if he's a knight in shining armour, this one stands in harsh contrast to the grubby persecutors from later stories.
The workings of the the Old World gods seem off as this tale also seems to take its bread and butter more from Moorcock (who at this point is very much the prime inspiration still for the Warhammer world), with gods of Law dominating the scene, rather than the pantheon of individual deities I've come to be familiar with.
Still, it feels more as a different cloak for the old setting, rather than something that has no place being here. Enjoyed it.





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 With only 2 genuinely good tales, which I both had read at one time or the other, this collection was only a slight disappointment. It really wasn't all bad, in fact it was refreshing to read something that wasn't filled with as much balls to the wall horror and bloodshed like the last chronological Warhammer that I'd read; Christ Wraight's Swords of the Empire omnibus, one of those direct precursors of the End Times stories.

It's good then to revisit a time when the universe didn't feel as if it was about to be hopelessly, fatally overrun. More than that though; for me it was another decisive step taken on the road paved with Warhammer. Hurrah!

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