The Colonel's Monograph, Graham McNeill

Boy, I think I might've left this too long. It's been over a month now since I read this one, and though this seems to have been a bit beneficial for my opinions on it, I confess I can't remember much on the particulars of it. Maybe that's for the best, because what I do remember is that I was quite annoyed when I finished the story.

Recently widowed archivist Teresina Sullo has been invited to catalogue the personal library of one of the heroes of the imperium, the late colonel Elena Grayloc, the valiant commander who led the only surviving Astra Militarum regiment out of the madness of the infamous Dark Suns campaign.

She travels to Grayloc manor, where she is aided by those left behind after the colonel's apparent suicide. But it swiftly becomes clear that there is a mystery at work in Graylock Manor and darkness and danger besides. Gripped by the deepening mystery of the colonel's past Teresina follows up on the mad ramblings of the last archivist to work at Graylock manor, and she fervently begins to search for the tome that is rumoured to hold all the answers she seeks: the colonal's secret Monograph.

The main problem I had with the Colonel's Monograph is that it is the first of all of the Warhammer Horror stories, both the novels, the short stories, and the middling length fiction I've read so far, that seems to validate the arguments directly against a Warhammer Horror label, the idea that these stories wouldn't differ so much from the rest of the Warhammer fiction, and that there was no real warrant for a special Warhammer Horror branch.

It's not so much that the story isn't horrific, but rather that it feels terribly run of the mill. It is a story that pretty much goes exactly the way you expect it to go. The kind of story that I believed would inevitably be put out in this range; "Warhammer but specifically Horror!".
The Colonel's Monograph is the kind of hack writing that seems to validate general reader opinion that all that Warhammer fiction is is this kind of derivative throw-away fiction , filled with sensationalist elements, that is written specifically to cater to a juvinile and immature audience that hasn't read all that widely.

I'm being unduly harsh, but it's also pretty much the way I do see it.

There's a place for this fiction, and I frequently do enjoy it, but it would be nice if we could just get better.

Derivative is underlined above because it's my main problem with the story. Maybe it's just that it adheres so much to classic horror and gothic fiction, in such a way that it feels less like a pastiche and more just of a straight up copy of what's come before. Sure, the elements are 40k, but pretty much nothing else is original.

I have read some reviews of this one on Goodreads and apparently this is precisely what the audience wants: It wants those tropes and familiar situations, but just set in the Warhammer settings, and all I can do is shake my head in annoyance.

Another problem, one with 40k fiction, Warhammer fiction/ lore, in general, is that there is so little that is mysterious and will continue to remain mysterious. These are massive universes, that have articles, lore books, game rules and what-have-you dedicated to conveying as much information as possible, and of which more are put out every so often, and, as a result, everything that is being written is required to adhere to certain rules. Originality does not thrive here, and so horror as well can not really thrive. There's always a usual suspect, there's always a name that'll dispel whatever tension has been built up...
Whatever evil is afoot in the Warhammer Universe, whatever phenomena, whatever terrible and mysterious thing there might be crawling in the shadows, needs to fit in a familiar mold.
And there's already some definite precedent for the evil in the Colonel's Monograph.

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Honestly. it's really not that bad. I actually was going to write something way more positive, but I think I just wanted to vent a bit about the nature of Warhammer in General.
Sometimes I get too serious about the dumbest things.

Review: Perdition's Flame (audio drama)

Perdition's flame is the first audio drama from the Warhammer Horror range.

I'm not one for audio books or dramas but, drawn as I am to horror, and in particular keen to explore the 'Horror' aspect to the Warhammer license, I felt obligated to check this one out.

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A tiny bit of a rant here... Feel free to skip if you dislike me harping on about my ideas and negative responses to the audio format.

I dislike audio-dramas/books because it doesn't take much for me to get pulled straight out of the story, my bubble of immersion too easily punctured by even the smallest of things; off-kilter accents, stilted line-delivery, disharmony in dialogue, etc... but in this particular story I'm pleased to announce that I only gritted my teeth in absolute supreme irritation only once. In case you're interested: It is in Chapter 13, right at the 1-minute mark. You can't miss it.

The voice actors do a mixed bag of a job, their accents ranging from the bad to the flat-out excruciating. This might not be because of the actors themselves and rather because of the material they have to work with, the stereotype accents they have to deliver, or it might just be because of an inherent bias on my part, although I went into this story very open-minded and willing to be entertained.

And you know, this is probably what is always going to be my main gripe with audio-adaptations of any kind and the reason why this particular format just isn't for me. Prose can be perceived as perfect for the reader as it requires the imagination to fill in all the possible blanks, while auditory input from another party (not yourself, and thus alien to yourself) can cause, and very likely not in a way that is all that conducive to the listener, associations that might not be expected leading to negative reactions.

Every single one of the characters sounds like a stereotypical cliché, and not even the acceptable kind, and in fact they're all quite dubiously rendered by the voice actors. Our main character and narrator Vosk's thick and distinctly Russian/Vostroyan accent is mildly off-putting at first but due to a kind of stockholm-type syndrome, swiftly becomes comforting. Especially when we veer from his drawn-out tones into the nasal whines of the female characters who you'll be begging to shut the fuck up. Both Captain Brandon and Inquisitor Herryn are awful to listen to. Brandon's gutter-British and Herryn's upperclass entitlement ooze with every syllable out of the actor's mouths. If you're looking for subtle: this isn't it. Commander Treece, with barely a minute of dialogue to his name, isn't much worth mentioning either.

Honestly though, I'm not here to slag these people or their choice in profession off, so I won't be mentioning names, and you can just file all of the above under 'Levi just does not like audio dramas'.

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All of that being said.

The story was ok. It wasn't really worth being made an audio drama out of, but it was at least acceptable.

In a lonely cave, with a howling blizzard raging through the night outside, a Vostroyan guardsman sits in front of a fire and welcomes you to sit with him, to listen to his tale. He'll treat you to a tale of cowardice and redemption aboard a haunted ship, where voices whisper in urgent entreatment, and where the shadows wait in the darkness, patiently waiting for their chance to break free.

It is a tale of terror, of the risen dead spawned by the dark plague come for mankind. It is the tale of those that fight it. And it is a tale of an unknowable horror that can not possibly be contained.

In the grim licensed future of 40k there's not much chance of being surprised. Any and all plot developments must adhere to the rules of the setting, after all. And if you are well-versed in the lore, or if you've read a lot of the novels, chances are you can figure out story revolutions well in advance.
Worley knows this. and uses it to his advantage, managing to wrong-foot lore-enthusiasts and delivers an at least decent twist, in a story that threatened to become quite bog-standard 40k. As it turns out after the drama's close I actually found myself left with some questions, which is a good sign of my engagement with the story, or at least, with this particular lore aspect. I'm not sure how this would float with people completely new to 40k but I appreciated this element most.

As for horror, well... it definitely was not worthy of the Warhammer Horror label. It does make a point about horror in the Warhammer 40k universe (and which relates to the plot twist), but it's not explored enough, and as such, to any new listeners this point would be entirely lost, I think, making me wonder if anyone who's not already into the setting would actually have anything positive to take away from this.

A spoken story that has to last all of 70 minutes has a very limited amount of time to leave a good impression. This is genuinely a tall order. I don't think the Library should be trying to churn these out, and should instead be trying to make something truly unique, maybe something experimental, that'll validate audio dramas, and in particular, Warhammer Horror audio dramas.

 Imagine it: some kind of Barker-esque visionary who could create some new type of Horror, unseen and unheard of before, and drawing in legions of horror enthusiasts. The type of dark prodigy you sometimes read about in horror stories, the type that went mad and died or disappeared, leaving behind a secret, much sought-after body of work.

As it is now, this really isn't it. Hard pass.

Konrad Curze: The Night Haunter

This is the limited edition of the Konrad Curze novel, the latest in the Primarchs series, which are a bunch of short novels dedicated to explore some of the mysteries behind the greatest of the Emperor's sons; their origins, philosophies and characters in a way that the Horus Heresy series, already having these characters active as a part of the ongoing Heresy story line, sometimes had to gloss over.

With this novel included, I have only read two of the Primarch novels, mainly because I do not have the money to buy everything I want and never enough time to read them in. The Primarchs series also didn't appeal to me so much, because I'm a collector who needs to read what he collects, which would mean 18 new novels, of questionable quality, which would inevitably include some duds. 

As such I just went after the ones that interested me the most; Angron, because I like the insane rage of the legion, because my first models were World Eaters and because Kharn is a badass. Hell, even my PSN name takes its name from the legion. Lorgar, because of his religious background and reactionary faith in the Chaos Gods, is very close to me, given my own past and struggle with my faith. And of course Konrad Curze, because Night Lords are cool, Aaron Dembski-Bowden's Night Lord trilogy is the best complete story to come out of the Black Library, their colour scheme is awesome, their doctrine is radical, Konrad is the most tragic figure in the Heresy and so on. Needless to say, I was very much looking forward to this novel.

The edition is simply gorgeous. It of course helps that my favourite colour is blue.

The embossing is of course a little over the top (see the first picture), I mean the lightning and skull with wings are on point and pretty cool, but the ropes and bones, and the hooded cloak are just a bit much. But then this is Warhammer, isn't it, a frequent byword for over-the-top baroque ornamentation, grimdark excess and a cool-factor that pretty much is always paid more attention to than decent, surprising storytelling.

The artwork of Konrad is really nice; Mikhail Savier has delivered probably my favourite artwork of the Night Haunter. He looks as noble as only a Primarch can look, yet with a slant to his expression that makes him look as cruel as only Curze can be. This is Konrad at the height of his nobility, but I do have to say that those lightning claws are really unimpressive. Doesn't matter that they take their cue from the Forge World model, and aren't Savier's design, I just don't really picture those when I read 'Lightning Claws'.

But. The novel itself has the very worst of what is derided about the Warhammer license: Excessive gore, violence and brutality to the point where it becomes immersion-breaking, a depiction of evil and insanity that is laughable, a sorely lacking depth of character and a story that reads more like a linked series of event/character-vignettes; it is a novel of the Night Lord Legion's greatest hits. You'd think that this sounds good but, if I'm honest, I'd rather have not read this one.

Now, Konrad Curze is fascinating. He is the Primarch that let himself be assassinated just to make a point. He is a practical demi-god, gifted with prophetic powers, driven mad and cruel by his knowledge of his eventual death and the epic brother-war that would rip the newly blossomed Imperium of Man asunder. He is the lord of the legion of fear, grown into adulthood, friendless and alone, on a planet governed by crime syndicates and gangs, that he rose to be the ruler of, solely through a one-man guerrilla-war of terror and violence.

And the novel does tell some of this, but the way in which it does this, is fragmented. It is disconnected, delivered to the reader as Konrad remembers his past and regales it to an audience of one: A meat-statue of his father, molded together from spit and the bodies of slaughtered underlings.

This in itself is hard to swallow, as it is fucking silly and pretty much constitutes a child's depiction of evil and insanity.

Insanity in the Warhammer universe is frequently given a raw deal, with any exploration or investigation into the origins of that insanity usually relying on the Deus Ex Machina of the malign influence of the Chaos Gods.

And though of course, this is somewhat true here as well; Chaos as the influence that gifts Curze with his gift of prophecy, thus eventually leading him down the path of extremism, Konrad's insanity has always been about his visions having driven him insane, and about his benign and noble Primarch nature having been ruined by a complete lack of nurture and a life of cruel and violent adversity.

But this is simply not what Guy Haley depicts. Haley writes the tale of an insane and cruel child. A superhuman psychopath from birth, who was always fucked up, but who was driven over the edge, into the realm of the ridiculously insane (and I mean that both ways), and who only at a certain point in his life was cursed to see the coming brother-war and his own horrible ending. 

This does not stroke with everything I have read, seen and thought of Konrad Curze.

I'm being too harsh. I know. This is because I am extremely biased. I love this primarch. He is Batman and the Predator rolled into one. He is the rule of cool trumps all, an absolute a fan-favourite character who rose to crazy heights of popularity with Aaron Dembski-Bowden's depiction of him in his Night Lord series. And that is probably the problem: Fan-sentiment.

There is always a problem when one starts to reveal the mystery behind a beloved character. The audience will have a bunch of associations and preconceptions in place already, and will frequently find those upturned by whichever writer has been chosen to tackle his origins. This is pretty much what always happens. It is what happened with me here. So, this is on me. Maybe.

But there are other problems; some are fundamental, some are here because this is how Guy Haley chose to deliver his story, some are here because of a blatant unconcern with how the laws of reality work, but the most important one: the worst failure of this novel is that this story and this character that are based on the ideas and questions behind an immutable fate, free will and the gift of prophecy, should have been a god damn masterclass in storytelling and structure, and this novel simply isn't it.

If you love it, however, then you go ahead and enjoy yourself. Good on you for settling for the easy fare, for the third rate fiction, for the vapid and fleeting stories that you enjoy so much.

Just know that it's because of you that I can't have nice things.

Seriously though. It's not quite this horrible, but I genuinely am disappointed and annoyed.

Review: The Wicked and the Damned

     The Wicked and the Damned is the second short story collection under the new Warhammer Horror imprint. Unlike Maledictions this one takes place entirely in the 40k universe and showcases three very different types of horror tales. If you are up for the dispassionate ramblings of a psychopath, an actual honest-to-the-God-Emperor haunting, and some good old fashioned Warhammer splatterpunk, then this is definitely one to pick up.
     Like with the Maledictions anthology, people's favourites seem to vary and most are still unconvinced of the imprint's merit. But for my part; any doubts I had about whether or not The Black Library could actually deliver horror that could stand out from the rest of the Warhammer fiction are now laid to rest. I had a lot of fun with this one, and it's been a while since I have been so taken with any amount of horror prose.

On the cold and misty cemetery world of Silence three strangers meet.

Led here by the guidance of the half-dead mortuary servitors they have been corralled together, and for some reason they are now not allowed to leave. Mystified with how they got to this remote place, normally only suitable for the burial of the God-Emperor's servants, they begin to question each other, trying to discern a common thread.

And as the servitors chatter and look on in the distance, they each tell their story. 

You can pretty much guess what is going on here, but that shouldn't really be a deal-breaker. The framing story of Silence is just a little extra on top of three well-crafted novella-length short stories.
But because of how the framing device is laid out, any reader will also likely be able to guess where these stories end up and as such, they will individually need to be able to deliver some serious tension, mood and dread if they're going to keep the reader engaged. It was a bit of a gamble, but wouldn't you know it: it worked out quite well in the end.

    The first one up, The Beast in the Trenches, is an absolutely riveting read.
Through the eyes of a commissar we are regaled to the horror of trench warfare. Under a sky filled with shrapnel and fire, while drowning in boiling mud and choking on cloying smoke, he begins to become aware of an insidious enemy hiding among the troops. With calculation and violence he starts to root out the threat, but as he slowly becomes aware of a vast conspiracy, he begins to realize that he'll have to take more drastic measures if the Imperial Guard are to win this conflict.
   This one is a tense affair, one moment seamlessly leading into the next, compelling any reader to keep turning the page. Josh Reynolds, who is also responsible for the overarching Silence narrative, delivers an interesting character piece of a complete sociopath in the middle of war.

    The Woman in the Walls is my favourite Warhammer horror experience, bar none, and as that horror hasn't got a capital, this means that even outside of the imprint it's been my best horror experience from Warhammer as a whole. And I've read a lot of those books let me tell you.
     The second story is a chilling little tale of a vengeful haunting. A beating gone wrong delivers a woman to the top echelon of power, but her murdered rival was well liked and now someone seems warp-bent on vengeance, legal or otherwise. But as long as she keeps her head cool and her henchmen in line, the investigation into the murder will most likely blow over. But as her allies start dying in brutally violent ways, and as her dreams begin to spiral into an almost continuous nightmare, she knows that something is already well on its way to get her.
     Phil Kelly delivers a phenomenal horror story.
Part mystery, part slow-burn gothic horror story that turns into full-on violent nightmare-vendetta, this is the cream of Warhammer Horror Fiction. This is how it should be written. This is what Warhammer can offer.
   Tension building throughout, a tapestry of military characters all at odds with each other, politicking and scheming, with strange new beasts and engaging lore that might just have expanded the rules of the universe a little, and an ending in perfect serendipitous convergence where all the threads get solved, preferably bloodily. Just perfect.

The third story, The Faith and the Flesh, is a mad sensory overload of imagination, peppered with brief bursts of gore. While it isn't my favourite tale here, David Annandale nonetheless delivered a story that goes above and beyond in its depiction of how absolutely insane Warhammer can get. In the Warhammer universe there are forces that can come to be understood as unending description in themselves. This is fine in theory, and honestly quite a neat concept too, but in practice there always comes a point where an excessive level of description can cross the line from horrific straight into cartoonish, and this story crosses that line at several points. Despite of this, the steady escalation of the insanity on display makes it all very readable.
    To go with the rampant levels of body horror, we have the Wicked and the Damned's most introspective and annoyingly apologetic character.
    On what is likely to be his last tour of duty around a system, a missionary priest stops at a Ship-Wrecker installation to find guidance and support from his lover. No longer willing to meet his obligations to a religion that has grown empty, he has come here desperate for a way out, to ask her for a miracle. Leaving himself open to the guiding will of the God-Emperor he prays for help, for a sign that faith is what this bleak and uncaring universe warrants, and that the Emperor would show Himself to dispel his creeping doubts.
    And then one of the Ship-Wreckers approaches the station with a derelict vessel in tow, and a mysterious signal coming from deep within.

Given that all three stories are relayed to us by unreliable narrators, there are obvious fabrications, and it can be quite fun to spot where exactly the truth ends, and the lies begin. But don't hold it against them though; because sometimes the truth is just too hard to face.

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    I've seen a lot of complaints about the ending either being predictable or abrupt, but it should be obvious that the Silence chapters, about 2 or 3 pages in between the bigger stories, are merely meant to serve as the narrative framing device to tell 3 individual tales. They're not meant to be hiding some grand twist; they're here for framing, and to serve as mood makers.
    Any reader will likely quite quickly figure out, after the first Silence chapter even, what exactly the deal is with these characters and why they might be here. The moody environment of Silence, its nature, the audience that looks on as the characters tell their tales, they all speak for themselves.
   
But outside of that I did think this was interesting enough to merit some thought as I found there is a strangeness here. You see, what is interesting in these Silence chapters is how the characters whose stories we have learned appear to still have an influence on the world around them, and after their respective narratives had drawn to a close, this plainly should not have been possible. It is this that I had the most questions about. There's a fascinating enigma here, but to be given an answer to it would dispel the mystery, of course. I wonder if this might become something interesting; some sort of new folklorish element to the Warhammer universe. I'm not sure why this grabbed me so. But I really, really liked it.

Obviously, I hugely enjoyed this collection. I'm already looking forward to the Warhammer Horror yet to come. Drachenfels and Genevieve Undead will get a re-read and a respective review after I've done the Grendel Reading-goal, else I might just keep stalling it, and that just won't do anymore.

And so, though it is for now gone from us, rest assured; Warhammer Horror will return!

Review: Maledictions

For the First of the Warhammer Horror range I chose to dig into Maledictions. There's eleven short stories in total here, 7 of which take place in the 40k setting, 4 of which in the Age of Sigmar. People's favourite stories seem to vary from person to person, so, needless as it is to say, all of what comes next is my subjective experience. The ones I consider true horror will have the word bolded in their respective write-ups.

   The first one up; Nepenthe, is a genuinely good Horror tale. I got flashes of Event Horizon here, with body horror, a strange and mysterious mood that was definitely unique and inventive, and heaps of shocking violence. Nepenthe is exactly the kind of stuff that I want to read when I'm looking for space horror.
    Guided by a mysterious voice, two tech-priests close in on a space hulk adrift in the void. After decades of searching, revelation and glory is at hand. But the drifting vessel harbours many much more than they're prepared for.
   This is it: the best story in the collection and one worthy for the Warhammer Horror imprint.               Cassandra Khaw, despite choosing a faction and a setting with a high barrier of entry for new readers, nonetheless manages to easily engage and horrify. Though not excellently written, this one sets a high bar for the rest of the stories to come. Alas, the license problem holds this one back from being perfect; as a host of creatures is being described I found myself riveted, trying to make sense of the horrifying creatures attacking our protagonists, only to find myself deflated as soon as they were named; all the detailed description driving my imagination fell away in favour of the familiarity of the known. Still, a very good opener.

   Richard Strachan and his The Widow Tide have the dubious honor of being my first brush with the fiction of the Age of Sigmar. I've held off for a long while, but with the promise of stories written with the express intent to deliver horror to the adventurous reader, I could restrain myself no longer. But alas, horror this really was not.
   Half a year now, a young widow has been spending her days staring out over the ocean where her husband has gone missing. Though she knows he must be dead, and the villagers urge her to get on with her life, she still can't let go of him and when she finds a wounded alien creature, washed up on the beach, she takes it in her home and tries to nurse it to health. But in a superstitious village, secrets have a habit of not staying hidden.
   A confusing, unsatisfying ending to a story that is as rote as it can be. I mean, for pity's sake, the Wolf Riders short story collection, the very first Warhammer short story collection, had stories very much like this one. It's almost as if a shoreline setting has a great potential to suddenly introduce a huge change in the daily life of a village or something -hmmmm?-. If in all the Mortal Realms a village by the sea is what you're choosing for your setting, and if the plot of your tale is uneventful as the plot here then you're doing something wrong. Hard pass.

    On the bottom level of a hive, a few children from an orphanage find a man wasted away to the point of death. They decide to bring him back with them, and nurse him back to health. As the man convalesces he slowly begins to repay them their kindness by healing the sick in their halls. All seems well, but they'll soon find out that No Good Deed goes unpunished.
    Graham McNeill is probably the big draw for this collection as he has already made his name with a lot of pivotal Warhammer fiction and it's pretty disappointing then that this little tale wasn't all that memorable. It's pretty rote as far as 40k goes even, and I also got the idea that this one tied into Mcneill's earlier fiction. Lastly; it's horror in the way that all things Nurgle, the dark god of decay, are: Pretty horrible but it does not stand out at all, especially as the other Nurgle tales in this collection were vastly more engaging and memorable.

   Lora Gray is different than other writers in this collection as they are the only one to embark on an Age of Sigmar story while going full out-on the lore, making this one inextricable from the Mortal Realms setting. As someone who has not kept up with the evolution of the Games Workshop's fantasy setting I found myself pretty bewildered by the idiosyncrasies of the Sylvaneth faction. Gray, though being a new writer to any of the licenses, must be very passionate about the particular faction, as the background for Crimson Snow is really quite necessary to understand its plot, and I had to look up what was what after its ending.
   At the edge of a battlefield, a young Dryad, anxious to help out her kinsmen who are battling for the survival of their grove, helplessly looks on as her Sylvaneth kin fight the Rotbearing Chaos forces. As figures stumble from the melee, the lines between ally and enemy are blurred as she finds herself confronted by an Outcast, one of those Sylvaneth driven insane by a mysterious contagion, craving indiscriminate bloodshed. As their eyes meet and she wonders what could have turned a once noble warrior into this unstable monster, little does she know that she'll soon find out.
   Even though the amount of lore can be quite detracting from an easy reading experience, the body horror in this one makes it stand out from others in this collection. Memorable and visually entertaining.

   Last of the Blood is a bit of an odd one. I didn't think it was bad, but neither did I think that this one had enough horror to merit being in this collection.
That being said, though seemingly rote, the story was engaging enough as CL Werner is an old hand at Warhammer fiction and pretty good at writing engaging storylines.
   Under rumours of death and persecution, the last members of the Nagashiro family gather at the behest of the head of the family, who reveals that they are being hunted by a vengeful ghost in retaliation for an old grievance. He reveals that he has brought them to his castle to stave off their curse by the use of a dark necromantic ritual. But as the ritual begins events immediately take a turn for the worst and soon it seems that the time of the Nagashiro bloodline has run out.
   I confess I find it strange that there is a story in an Age of Sigmar setting that might as well have taken place in the Old World, but that this same story nonetheless never would have been allowed to be written, given Games Workshop's ban on fiction to do with their Japanese-influenced factions. Not bad, but not stand-out either.

   In Predations of the Eagle we follow a company of Guardsmen stationed in a meat-grinder-war on a hot and humid jungle world. As more and more of their company go missing in their fights against the orks, morale starts to ebb, and as their missing comrades start to show up in gruesome displays; with bodies maimed and cannibalized, and contorted in mad imitations of the Imperial Eagle, the desperation starts to grow.
   I loved this one. Peter Mclean has the attitude of a Guardsman down pat, and even injects some welcome humour here and there, though as you might imagine, the longer the story goes on, the less humour remains, to make way for a more tense little affair. There were some nice moments of horror, and this short story is probably the best-executed of the tales in here. Likable characters, believable characterization and a tight plot. I had no niggles when it was done, and I'm certain that this one is accessible to any newcomers. Top-tier.

   The Last Ascension of Dominic Seroff, despite having a cumbersome name, proves to be one of the better ones. On a backwater hive world, the last stop for those fallen from grace, a has-been inquisitor and a disgraced lord commissar find solace in each other's misery, as they toast to the imagined destruction of old enemies. When they bear witness to an object crashing down somewhere in the city they set out to investigate, realizing that something in the object's trajectory made it stand out from the usual rain of debris and meteors. They soon find themselves face to face with true horror.
   Though this story does rely a little too much on name recognition and reader investment in what has come before (license and other stories), as someone who hasn't read anything else by David Annandale, I found that this wasn't a problem as I was swept along by the lugubrious developments and wild descriptions as the Inquisitor and the Commissar flee from the nastiness gibbering at their heels.
   A very well-known name to the 40k universe shows up, and does so in a way that makes you realize that some of these characters have become figures of true terror to the galaxy at large, that they have become boogey-men, monsters with the statures of well-know horror movie villains, and Annandale, bless him, treats them as such. Very satisfying.

   An ex-guardsman made governor of a planet is slowly going mad because of strange dreams, but as things begin to escalate, as his dreams begin to impinge on reality, it becomes clear that there is something more going on.
   Triggers by Paul Kane is not really good, because even though events can be horrific enough for our protagonists, they will not always be so for us as observers.
More than that; in the world of 40k, we, as the readers, will be most of the time generally aware of the names behind entities, creatures and phenomena, and too-clear descriptions or flat-out revelations, names splashed on the page, can be quite deflating. A good story, and great authorial skill, can still keep going despite of it (see Nepenthe) but this one, even though not always divulging names, suffered in another aspect in that it seemed to mix and match what it wanted from the lore, at the very least bending the rules if not breaking them outright, in the manner that made it feel like a very old Warhammer 40k story. Outdated and very definitely less than thrilling.

   Probably the most enigmatic story in this collection, A Darksome Place is engaging enough while at the same time also managing to easily garner some interest in the Age of Sigmar. In the sewers below the city of Greywater Fastness some foul thing seems afoot. The rats have disappeared and the occasional patrol as well, and strange singing has been heard. Padmar Tooms, one of the Underjacks who safeguard the dark waterways, out to investigate with his patrol, searches for his mentor and the root of the sewers' ills.
   Now, this feels like a unique realm that lives and breathes outside of its bloody but stale battlefields. Josh Reynolds is a prolific writer of Black Library's own stable who currently has the most work out in the Mortal Realms. He's a huge influence apparently and it's visible here as well: He's quite comfortable in this place, and he's the only one of the four Sigmarite writers in this collection who made the setting itself come alive.
He's also clever enough, the only one in this collection, to know that if he were to name the antagonistic force he would dispel a lot of the horror that has built up over the story.
   A Darksome Place reminded me quite a bit of Clive Barker's Midnight Meat Train; with an ancient power brooding in the darkness beneath a buzzing metropolis, hidden and secret, worthy of veneration yet inexplicable. It is horrific, but is it horror? I'm going to say yes.

   The Marauder Lives is a tense little story that while not being really horror at all did manage to keep me reading at a fast pace.
   In an asylum, an inquisitorial agent convalesces after her years-long captivity. But the past and the sadistic tortures of the Dark Eldar are always with her, and leave her unable to even begin to heal the scars of her mind. The asylum is a safe place, but on the horizon storm clouds gather and she is certain there is still danger to come.
   J C Stearns' story is rather well written, and the paranoia of its main character, coupled with the nature of the Dark Eldar faction, leaves you guessing whether something is really going on or whether it might all be in our protagonist's head. Tense.

Life in the Cradle is beautiful and slow for the orphans. Sent here to live away from The World Beyond,  in the vale they are under the protection of the horned deity, and they are kept safe and blessed by his grace. But only for as long as they uphold the law, give veneration where it is due, and above all: Never leave the cradle.
   But young Cade has a friend who has dreams of seeing the sights of the world beyond, and she tells him she's sure that the tales the villagers tell are just that; tales of boogeymen, stories to frighten children. she's sure that The Nothings aren't real. And then when, one evening he returns from a hunt to find the village in an uproar, with Abi missing, he knows that the tales are about to be put to the test.
   Alec Worley's short story probably should have been at the forefront of the anthology, as it manages to ease the reader into a familiar and comfortable setting (at least ostensibly) while gradually introducing more and more intriguing and mysterious elements to the story until it finally pulls the rug out from under them. Readers with mileage in the various settings will probably sniff most of it out quite early, but the story is at least written in an easy, engaging manner.
   As for horror: there is some, though it isn't enough to write home about, apart from some existential dread there at the end which, even though the licenses usually have heaps of that stuff, this particular segment was written quite well, with almost an almost nightmarish, apocalyptic quality to the imagery. Pretty good.

    An interesting collection of short stories, and a good journey into the realm of genuine horror for Warhammer fiction. But is this it?

    Madness and disease are the usual suspects, and the gore is welcome as well, of course, but barring Nepenthe, most of these were just slight exaggerations of what can be found in other Warhammer fiction. The Black Library will have to up their game if they want to stand out.

Don't be afraid to shock, guys.

Bring it on. Everybody wants it.

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Review: Angron, Slave of Nuceira

Angron: Slave of Nuceira focuses on the World Eaters, who, in the years of the great Crusade, after their reunion with their Primarch, are divided into two groups over the demand of their violent and deranged gene-sire to have the Butcher's Nails implanted into their skulls. Though the threat of internal strife looms, it is a danger that might never come up, as so far, the Legion's apothecaries and accompanying Mechanicum forces have been unable to even come close to recreating Angron's Butcher's nails. As the captains of the legion argue among themselves over what to do with their father, and his horrifying methods of punishment in the face of their failures, the fleet arrives at the next world to bring into compliance.

It is here, on this world that was once part of the imperium of man, and which has been silent for a number of years, that the World Eaters will finally come face to face with the future their father has envisioned for them.

Slave of Nuceira is about what one would have expected from a story focusing on Angron and his legion, but nonetheless, Ian St Martin does really bring more to the table than just excessive amounts of brutal violence. There is plenty of that, of course, but where the novel really becomes memorable was in the depiction of Angron's early years, before he became the mad beast that he was always going to be. Martin shows, in a few beautiful passages that once upon a time, this was not all that Angron had the potential of being. We get glimpses of a past nobility and more besides. Yet again: The incredible, the tragic Could-Have Been. The book shows that despite all the promise and artistry inherent in each of the Emperor's most impressive creations, even they, even the Primarchs themselves, can fall. Even though he can be of the most blessed nature, and unbroken by the most brutal of nurture, there are certain things that can still ruin a man, and that can destroy him beyond healing. As you can guess; this is pretty much the definitive book on the Butcher's Nails.

Angron is certainly one of the more tragic characters among the 18.

Naturally, knowing where history takes us, we know how this will end, but as I intimated, there are a few surprises to be had. For instance: Even though he's not very prominent here we do get more insight into Kharn, his actions and reasoning, as we do really get to understand the choice that led him down a path of 10 000 years of violence and bloodshed.

It really is a suitable sequel to After Desh'ea as it pretty much picks up a little after that, and builds on the premise laid out by Aaron Dembski-Bowden.

The ending was a bit off, as we're taken out of the realm of the Horus Heresy and into the world of 40k, but as a story in the greater whole of the Warhammer universe it does work. it was just a bit jarring for some reason*. Despite that, it was a good read, though a little predictable in places.

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*Speaking of  jarring, here's a cool bit of the book where it (over)indulges itself a bit.

Massive Spoilers below.

Book Porn: Spear of the Emperor Limited Edition

Here's the Limited edition release of Aaron Demski-Bowden's Spear of the Emperor.

It arrived last month but I only just now got around to giving it my attention.

I went overboard in taking pictures again, but it's very much warranted, believe me.

It's hard to say if the people at the Black Library have ever done a better limited edition than this one.

It's unlikely.

I mean, the last Gaunt's Ghosts box was similar to this one, at least in pricing, but in most people's opinion there weren't enough incentives included to pick that one up; which is why you'll find that limited release still available on the site.

Maybe it's just because that box looked drab and boring that it didn't sell out, because there was actually some really neat stuff in it. The two box sets are actually fairly similar in their included merchandise so it's hard to immediately see why you'll be hard pressed to still get a copy of  this one.

Most likely it sold out almost immediately because this one is only the first installment of a new story, rather than book 14 in a long-running series.

So let's have a look at the contents.

Tat first:

A heavy coin-thing, not sure what it actually is but it's quite cool.

The Manticore of the Adeptus Vaelarii on the front.

The Adeptus Vaelarii are the three space marine chapters tasked with the defence of Elara's Veil, a region of space on the side of the Dark Imperium.

The lion stands for the Celestial Lions, the Tail for the Star Scorpions, and the trident for the Emperor's Spears.

Up next is an honest to the God-Emperor's Purity Seal (not actually made of wax).

Corrupted Grey Knight in progress for scale (not really, calm thyself, it's just going to be a Word Bearer).

And an Emperor's Spears badge, inscribed with the name Nemeton, the Spear's home World.

But after those cool little shiny things which will be reasonably appealing to all and sundry, the Library went and outdid themselves, and managed in a deceptively simply way, to entice a core group of their fan base to definitely pick this edition up.

Some pretty decent artwork of the novel's three primary characters (or at least; those that will probably live the longest, given Bowden's penchant for delivering a good tragic narrative) .

From left to right Amadeus of the Mentors chapter, Our narrator Anuradha and Breac of the Vargantes, an Emperor's spear.

These pieces of artwork get better the more you look at them.

I'm particularly taken with Anuradha.

And then here's what I was talking about earlier;

the reason why most of the buyers made sure they got this one when it got released.

By the simple inclusion of a custom transfer sheet for the novel's main space marine faction the Library have managed to make sure that, even with the ridiculous pricing, this one was going to sell out. Most Warhammer hobbyists are readers and a fair portion of those get inspired enough by what they read to build and paint some models at the very least, if not an entire army. Transfer sheets then  become quite the incentive to pick this up.

Also included is a background booklet containing literally anything to do with the Adeptus Vaelarii.

You should probably read this before reading the novel as the information contained herein is comparable to what Amadeus has access to at the start of the novel.

At times it can help if you have some of this under your belt already as the lore can be a bit vague in the novel.

And damn me if this doesn't look cool.

And the pièce the resistance, the internal build-up of space marine armour.

And of course, the box wouldn't be complete without the actual novel would it?

The Spear of the Emperor is very good, of course.

I blew through it in under a few days and it has the honour of being the first Dark Imperium novel that I've read and though I must say that I had my doubts and reservations about the evolution of the 40k setting, this one persuaded me that it's probably a good thing.

The Dark Imperium is a dark and dangerous place, where half of the Imperium of Man has been severed from the light of the Emperor, making warp travel a more harrowing affair than ever, and reinforcements hard to come by. Where before I thought that the evolution of the setting gave too many advantages to mankind, this book opened my eyes to the reality: From a minute to midnight we now have arrived in darkest night and it's probably more grimdark than ever.

Aaron Demski-Bowen's lightning autograph.

Besides the novel itself we also have a preface and an afterword detailing the circumstances surrounding the creation of the story, and The First Primaris short story, which serves more as an afterthought to the novel rather than as a short tale that could possibly stand alone.

And there you have it.

Another sweet collector's item.

Oh yeah, and a silver bookmark-ribbon.