Friday Fiction: Welcome to Arkham

Welcome to Arkham: An Illustrated Guide for Visitors to the Town of ARKHAM, MASSACHUSETTS, and Environs Including DUNWICH, INNSMOUTH, and KINGSPORT is just that little bit more than a simple guide to the city at the heart of the H.P. Lovecraft’s stories and the Cthulhu Mythos. In one way it is a simple exploration of the city and its strange history and places as presented in the Arkham Horror family of games published by Fantasy Flight Games, including of course, the Arkham Horror board game and Arkham Horror: The Card Game, and more recently, the roleplaying game Arkham Horror, and in another, it showcases the great artwork from the games. Seriously, the artwork is very, very good. Then in another way, it presents the city and its environs, including the towns and villages of Dunwich, Innsmouth, and Kingsport, in a way that could be used with any horror roleplaying game. Which means that it could works as a companion to the recently released Call of Cthulhu: Arkham for Call of Cthulhu.

What it actually is though, is a reprint of the Arkham gazetteer that was originally in the Arkham Horror Deluxe Rulebook, published separate to the board game, along with expanded details of Lovecraft Country. Yet it is also more that than that. It is a copy of Welcome to Arkham, the introduction to the city published by the Arkham Historical Society after having been updated, revised, and expanded by the society’s curator, Reginald Peabody. Further, it is his personal copy, complete with notes that he compiled in order to update it, and then, now in hands of his niece, Myrna Todd, it has been annotated with her notes and correspondence with a friend in New York, after she begins investigating Arkham and beyond following her uncle’s disappearance. What this means is that there are multiple layers to this book, on one level a simple guide or artbook, on another a story and mystery. Which means that it can be enjoyed on multiple levels…

Published by Aconyte Books, also responsible for a series of novels set in the world of Arkham Horror, this outwardly guide to Arkham and inwardly the mystery of the disappearance of the guide’s author, begins with a letter to young Myrna Todd from the Miskatonic Valley sheriff, informing her of her uncle’s disappearance, and a letter to her friend in New York, before welcoming the reader to Arkham proper. Starting with downtown, the volume takes the reader from one district of the city to another, visiting in turn, its highs and its lows, its weird and its wondrous. The highs include Independence Square with its balmy tranquillity that contrasts sharply with the Gothic grandeur and tenebrosity of Arkham Sanatorium, with its patients receiving the very best care, but so many lost to a stranger madness. Similarly, the newly opened restaurant, La Bella Luna, offers the wonders of Italian cuisine brought to small town New England, but hides an entrance to the Clover Club, the city’s premier speakeasy, whilst the Palace Movie Theatre brings the best of Hollywood to its big screen on which some moviegoers have begun to see odd shadows at moments when the big feature is not show. The description of the Palace Movie Theatre is accompanied by a fantastic film that never was, Mask of Silver. Meanwhile, the Ward Theatre is going to stage a much-anticipated performance of The King in Yellow, following its premiere in Paris! In rougher Eastown, Hibb’s Roadhouse might claim to be ‘dry’, but it is where the city’s less than reputable citizens go to get a shot of booze, whilst Velma’s Diner, a classic railcar diner, might serve good food, but it where the patrons of Hibb’s Roadhouse go after it shuts for the night.

French Hill is home to the even stranger parts of Arkham. There is Silver Twilight Lodge, the meeting place of the Order of the Silver Twilight, headed by one Carl Sanford, known for its generous charity work, but suspected by some for conducting very dark rituals behind its closed doors. This is, of course, a pleasing nod, to ‘The Hermetic Order of the Silver Twilight’ from Shadows of Yog-Sothoth. (These are not the only nods to the source material beyond that of H.P. Lovecraft, as Welcome to Arkham also draws from the pages of the various novels in the ‘Arkham Horror’ range.) Then there is the infamous ‘Witch House’, once home to the reviled witch, Keziah Mason, but now a series of poky apartments let to students at Miskatonic University who complain of strange rodent that stalks the building with its weirdly human face and hands. These are only the start of the strange locations to be found in Arkham, others including ‘The Unnamable’, a collapsed mansion in the Merchant District that Arkhamites strive to avoid, the Black Cave in Rivertown with its odd geology and fungi and the spelunkers often lost within its depths, and Ye Olde Magick Shoppe in Uptown, a cramped premises stuffed with mouldering books, maps, and artefacts linked to places that geographers have no knowledge of.

Of course, Miskatonic University gets a section of its own, including the Miskatonic Museum and the Orne Library, and as a bonus, a working draft of ‘Book of Living Myths’. This is almost a Mythos tome of its very own, penned by Miskatonic University scholar Kōhaku Narukami, which explores the parallels between classic folklore and the Mythos. Beyond this, Welcome to Arkham draws both the reader and Myrna Todd up and down the Miskatonic Valley, visiting in turn Dunwich, Innsmouth, and Kingsport, for similar treatments as that accorded to Arkham. Throughout, the locations are given both a fantastic illustration and a description, but this is not the only artwork in the pages of Welcome to Arkham. There are newspaper front pages reporting on important events such as the widespread, horrific destruction that beset Dunwich and the raid by Federal authorities on Innsmouth. There are also photographs, official reports, tickets, business cards, and plain postcards, the penned by Myrna charting the course of her investigation in the disappearance of her uncle, destined for New York, but not yet sent. Some are illustrated as if to appear attached to the pages by a paperclip, but others intrude into the pages, cut off by the neatness of the pages of Welcome to Arkham: An Illustrated Guide for Visitors to the Town of ARKHAM, MASSACHUSETTS, and Environs Including DUNWICH, INNSMOUTH, and KINGSPORTT. Their creation is so good though, that you wish they were real and that every one of them would stick out between the pages and make the book bulge with the many things, artefacts, and documents stuffed between those pages.

If perhaps, there is anything missing from the pages of Welcome to Arkham, it is a map. Arguably, a book which is ostensibly designed as a guidebook, warrants a map. Perhaps the modular nature of the book’s source material, the Arkham Horror board game, and more specifically, Arkham Horror: The Card Game, means that like the source material, the book needs no map. However, if not coming to Welcome to Arkham via either of those games, the conceit of it begs for a map.

Welcome to Arkham: An Illustrated Guide for Visitors to the Town of ARKHAM, MASSACHUSETTS, and Environs Including DUNWICH, INNSMOUTH, and KINGSPORT is the chance to explore the familiar, but from a different angle, that of source material from a board game and a card game of Lovecraftian investigative horror, rather than a roleplaying game of Lovecraftian investigative horror. Though all draw from the same sources, there is sufficient divergence perhaps that Welcome to Arkham is ever so slightly odd, slightly less familiar. That said, fans of the Arkham Horror board game, Arkham Horror: The Card Game, and the ‘Arkham Horror’ series of novels, will much that they will recognise and enjoy, as will the devotees of the writings of Lovecraft and of Lovecraftian investigative horror roleplaying. Welcome to Arkham: An Illustrated Guide for Visitors to the Town of ARKHAM, MASSACHUSETTS, and Environs Including DUNWICH, INNSMOUTH, and KINGSPORT is an engaging combination of enticing artwork and literary conceit that constantly hints at the dangers to be found in poking around in places and the doings of people that are best left secret.

Friday Fiction: The Dunwich Horror

The Dunwich Horror is one of horror author H.P. Lovecraft’s most famous stories. It takes place in the mouldering decrepit parts of Massachusetts where the ravines seem to run deep and the trees appear to leap up to ring the stone-topped hills from strange sounds emanate, and few if any of the villagers appear to work their boulder strewn pastures. Here stands Dunwich, a refuge for those fleeing the witch trials of Salem, decayed and shunned in equal measure, where no man of the cloth has set foot for centuries. The Bishops and the Whatelys, the leading families, such as they are, send their few scions to study at Harvard and elsewhere, and some do indeed return to Dunwich. Yet the worst of these scions, and most precocious—both physically and mentally—is Wilbur Whately, who leaves of his own accord, in search of knowledge that will enable him to make contact with his true father. A mere fifteen when he goes in search of this knowledge, it will ultimately be his undoing and his death will have terrible consequences for the village of Dunwich and the men who accompany Doctor Henry Armitage to deal with the aftermath of Wilbur’s attempts to obtain information from the eldritch tomes kept in the stacks of the Miskatonic University library.

Originally published in April 1929 issue of Weird Tales, The Dunwich Horror has been published many times since and in more recent years adapted into films, graphic novels, audio dramas and radio plays, and even a stage play. One of the latest adaptations is none of these, but an illustrated version of the short story. The Dunwich Horror is published by Free League Publishing, a publisher best known for roleplaying games such as Mutant: Year Zero – Roleplaying at the End of Days, Vaesen – Nordic Horror Roleplaying, The One Ring: Roleplaying in the World of Lord of the Rings, and Alien: The Roleplaying Game. It is not the publisher’s first such title. That would be The Call of Cthulhu, the classic of American horror literature and the short story that is arguably H.P. Lovecraft’s most well-known. It has since been followed with At the Mountains of Madness, H.P. Lovecraft’s most famous and only novel, published as two parts, Volume I and Volume II. As with these classics, the Free League Publishing edition of The Dunwich Horror is fully illustrated by French artist François Baranger and presented in a large 10½ by 14 inches folio format.

Much like Lovecraft himself, Baranger draws the reader long up the Miskatonic River to its headwaters amongst the dark hills that surround the village of Dunwich. There is a sense of isolation and decay, shrouded in mist and a gloom of long nights and secrets, the latter brightened by hilltops blazes around which men and things cavort and conspire. Perhaps the most marked sign of decay is the depiction of the traditional New England covered bridge, the wooden walkway leading to it twisted and broken, the bridge itself missing planks and the remaining construction already rotting above the dank waters. As the seasons come and go, the folk of Dunwich comment and chart the strangeness of Wilbur Whately himself and the ongoing construction at the family home. Twice the gloom is broken by fire atop the hillsides, the brightness marred by the unholy reasons for them being lit, once for the birth of Wilbur, then again for his search for answers. It is this search that takes Wilbur to Miskatonic University and here is perhaps the only light in the story, an austere bastion of knowledge caught in the pale winter sun as the looming figure of Wilbur Whately approaches the Orne Library.

Yet this is the only moment of contrast in the depiction of The Dunwich Horror by François Baranger, a moment of calm between Wilbur’s unseemly growth and the thirst for knowledge that will not only kill him and so revealing the ghostly true nature of his form, but also unleash a monstrous horror upon the blighted farming folk of Dunwich. The second half of the novel—the first half being described as a prologue—details for the reasons for reader’s return to Dunwich, the dangerous nature of Wilbur’s researches and the unearthly presence in the village, unseen as it lumbers from one scene of destruction to another. This time though, we are in the company of Doctor Armitage, he and his colleagues equipped with the dread knowledge necessary to banish what that presence might be. The head librarian has already paid the price in the cost to his composure in conducting that research, making clear the insidious effects of looking too much into things that man was not meant to know. The short story and Baranger’s illustrations draw in closer and closer, leaving the expansiveness of the horror’s wake, behind to climb the hill where the fires were once lit. Here in one terrible moment, just as the first half of story revealed Wilbur’s true form in inhuman twistedness, both Lovecraft and Baranger shows us the real ‘Dunwich Horror’.

The third of H.P. Lovecraft’s stories to be adapted by François Baranger, his depiction of The Dunwich Horror is one of brooding claustrophobia and leaden shadows, seeming only to up when the tale looks skyward and to the monstrosity unleashed by Wilbur Whately’s branch of the family. As before, the likelihood is that the reader of this book will have read H.P. Lovecraft’s story before, probably more than once, but François Baranger brings the story to life in sombre tones and startling revelations that match the text perfectly as it reveals much about the Whatelys and the mythology Lovecraft was creating. This new depiction of The Dunwich Horror is perfect for dark nights upon which new readers can discover this classic horror story, whilst old fans can come back to stalk the crepuscular valleys and hills of this corner of New England and be reviled at its secrets once again.

Friday Faction: King of Sartar

Originally published in 1992, King of Sartar stood out amongst all of the other titles that Chaosium, Inc. was publishing at the time because it was not related to Call of Cthulhu or Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos and because it was both fiction and not fiction. It was fiction because it was set within a game world, that of Chaosium, Inc.’s great fantasy world of Glorantha—the setting for RuneQuest and more recently RuneQuest: Roleplaying in Glorantha—and not fiction as it is a collection of myths and legends that are treated as being real within that world. King of Sartar draws together a number of myths and legends that relate to Argrath, the descendant of Sartar who appeared out of nowhere to drive the occupying forces of the Lunar Empire out of Sartar and Dragon Pass, defeat them again and again, defeat the Red Emperor and the Red Goddess, and ultimately win the Hero Wars. It takes the conceit—more recently applied in Six Seasons in Sartar—that the myths and legends have been collected and examined almost a thousand years after their events have said to have taken place. Further, as revealed in the conclusion to King of Sartar, these fragmentary, sometimes contradictory documents have been collated after a period in which knowledge of literacy was lost. As well as exploring the Argrath legends, King of Sartar will examine Orlanthi mythology, a history of Dragon Pass and those who dwelled in and round the area, provide multiple genealogies and timelines, and more.

King of Sartar brings together several documents. These include the Annotated Argrath’s Saga, the complete saga of Argrath’s adventures in the Hero Wars, appended by The Zin Letters; an overview of Orlanthi Mythology; The Composite History of Dragon Pass, from the Dragonkill Wars following the Empire of Earthwyrm’s Friends to Argrath’s marriage to the Queen of Saird; The Argrath Book, a compilation of material on Argrath; and Jalk’s Book, a compilation of material on the Colymar, Boldhome, and the Grazers. The more recent, annotated version adds The Lost Chapter of Fazzur Wideread. Alongside this are multiple timelines, genealogies such as those of the Kings of Sartar and Kings of Tarsh, lists that give all the gods of the Orlanthi pantheon, companions to both Argrath and Kallyr Starbrow, and more. The tone and style switches back and forth between the academic commentary of the collating author and the different voices of chroniclers recording the legends. Perhaps the most familiar here will be the sections on Orlanthi Mythology and Dragon Pass. The first presents familiar Orlanthi tales as well as the creation of Dragon Pass, his courtship of Ernalda, his enactment of the Lightbringers’ Quest for the first time, up to his confrontations with the Red Goddess, whilst the latter, supposedly one of the wedding gifts to Argrath, which presents the recorded history of the region, focusing on Sartar in particular, but also examining Tarsh and the Grazer Tribe, all the way up to Inkarne the Empress, the last great Sacred King of Argrath’s dynasty. The Lightbringers’ Quest is a subject that King of Sartar will return to several times, noting how challenging a task it is for mortal men, even Argrath, let alone Kallyr Starbrow, who either failed or was only partially successful in her reenactment, depending upon your point of view. It does describe the various steps and tasks necessary to complete the quest, but much like the rest of the book, they are open to interpretation. Added to the annotated version is The Lost Chapter, a chronicle of Fazzur Wideread, Governor-General of Dragon Pass, a counterpoint to much of the rest of King of Sartar, in that he is the only Lunar figure to be treated with any respect. The sympathies of the other authors throughout the book and even in The Composite History of Dragon Pass, lie with the Sartarites.

From a roleplaying perspective, King of Sartar not only examines the coming of Argrath and his rise to power, but also his influence upon Dragon Pass and the many changes he will bring about once his role and position as king is confirmed. This has long been prophesised, but never fulfilled. Only now with the publication of RuneQuest: Roleplaying in Glorantha has the setting of Dragon Pass been advanced to the event seen as the trigger for the Hero Wars—the Dragonrise, in which the Brown Dragon rose and consumed the great and the good of the Lunar Empire’s sorcerers sent to consecrate the Temple of the reaching Moon and the Sartarite nobility who gave their loyalty to the Lunar Empire, thus curbing its ambitions to the south. Of course, there is no little debate as who exactly caused the Dragonrise, but King of Sartar suggests that Argrath was involved or at least one of his companions, Orlaront Dragonfriend, was. For the roleplaying game though, the Dragonrise is a significant and immediate event. It is woven into the background of every Player Character. With that established, every Player Character and every Game Master’s campaign has been moved forward too, and so stands on the threshold of the forthcoming events of the Hero Wars, prophesised in the pages of King of Sartar and promised in game terms by Chaosium, Inc.

Another aspect of King of Sartar also plays in the future of every Game Master’s campaign. The volume’s collating commenter cannot be certain as to who the real Argrath is—the descendant of Sartar, the member of a lost clan of the Colymar tribe, the petty criminal who rose to power out of the back streets of Pavis, or all three. This gives the Game Master the freedom to decide who her Argrath will be as his role becomes ever more important and prominent in the forthcoming support for RuneQuest: Roleplaying in Glorantha.

King of Sartar is neither an essential volume that the Game Master must read to run a campaign set in Glorantha nor an easy read. Its fragmentary, often diverse subject matters, and multiple voices often leave the reader struggling to find purchase with the book. Only when the book returns to Argrath’s tale does that purchase find more solid ground, often because having one aspect of Dragon Pass or its people, King of Sartar will return to how Argrath interacted with that. This is not to say that the other diverse subject matters are not interesting, they often are, for there is some literally fantastic worldbuilding in the pages of King of Sartar. Of course, there is also much in the pages of King of Sartar that will be familiar to Gloranthaphiles as much of it has been reiterated in roleplaying game after roleplaying game and supplement after supplement. That though has always been with a more authoritative voice for the Game Master’s benefit and so has been easier to read and digest, whereas King of Sartar is without that authoritative voice by intent and is thus neither easier to read nor digest. Ultimately, King of Sartar is not a book for the casual reader or even fan of Glorantha, but for the fan who is interested in the lore presented as legend and myth, there is much here to explore from within the setting of Glorantha itself.

Friday Faction: The Sorcerer of Pyongyang

If a copy of each of the Player’s Handbook, Monster Manual, and Dungeon Master’s Guide fell from the sky how would it be received in the archetypal medieval world? Together would they have been taken up as a triptych of holy books and their words accepted not as a of means play and exercising the imagination, but as a way of speaking to god, of determining whether you have his blessing before undertaking any action, including deciding your future career, or rather rolling up your character according to scripture. This is the conceit of FRUP, an unpublished roleplaying game designed by James Wallis, and it is a conceit shared with The Sorcerer of Pyongyang. Not a new roleplaying game or supplement, but a novel by Marcel Theroux which examines the consequences of a work of the imagination and imagineering arriving unbidden in a land that is both real and unreal. For The Sorcerer of Pyongyang asks what would happen if a copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide accidentally found its way into the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, one of the world’s most isolated and closed off countries? What effect would Dungeons & Dragons have in a society whose government and culture imposes its own reality upon its citizens?

In the early nineties, during the time of the famine known as the Arduous March, Cho Jun-su, an ordinary schoolboy with a love of Kim Il Sung and the socialist fantasy comics he has to hire from a vendor at the station to read, discovers by accident, a copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide for Dungeons & Dragons. Left behind by the son of visiting a professor in North Korean socialist thought, and taken from lost property at the hotel he works at by Jun-su’s father, Cho Jun-su is fascinated by the book, but his English is not yet good enough to read it, although his later translation of the book will both improve his English and his imagination as he becomes an award-winning poet. Until then he turns to a teacher who has been helping with the illness that keeps him out of school. The teacher comes to understand the book, explaining that it is a game of the imagination and storytelling, and when the boy asks, promises to run it for him. Thus Jun-su takes his first steps into roleplaying, not via Dungeons & Dragons, but the House of Possibilities, an interpretation of the rules that is more faithful by intent than by design, but nevertheless recognisable as roleplaying.

As his illness keeps him home from school and helps isolate him from the worst effects of the Arduous March, so too the House of Possibilities isolates him from the adulation and respect that he is expected to give Kim Jong Il, the Dear Leader, the self-criticism exercises he is expected to participate in at school, and so on. The notion of roleplaying and of Dungeons & Dragons is doubly dangerous within North Korea. It is nerdish and likely to be socially unacceptable just as it was in the West in the nineties, but in North Korea, it could be seen as an artefact of American decadence, one that encourages individualism. Yet it is this individualism that makes Jun-su stand out, his involvement with the House of Possibilities setting him on a trajectory through layers and layers of accepted reality, as he first experiences success, then downfall, then success again, before finding hope. It pushes him to Kim Il-sung University in Pyongyang, where he mingles with the elite, he is denounced and imprisoned, before being released and pulled into the orbit of the ultra-elite once, and then finally finding his own release. At university Jun-su isolates himself from the reality of the dangers that House of Possibilities, but its reality is left behind and Jun-su is forced to rely upon the accepted reality in which his love for Kim Jong Il will save him, but just like Winston Smith and Big Brother in Orwell’s 1984, it is Kim Jong Il that is stamping on his face. Nevertheless, it is Jun-su’s connection to the House of Possibilities that will save him again. Which leads perhaps to the most extraordinary reality in which Jun-su finds himself in, spending time in the company of ‘Jimmi’, in fact, Kim Jong-chul, older brother of Kim Jong Un, son of the late Kim Jong Il and supreme leader of North Korea. ‘Jimmi’ is portrayed as a member of the idle rich, when not drug addled, obsessed with the guitar and great rock guitarists, whose reality isolates him from the rest of the country and its cowed masses. Weirder still is the job he is given at a state insurance company, fabricating the reality of serious accidents, so that the country can gain foreign currency from the insurers in London. Even ‘Jimmi’ in his most maudlin state is affected by Dungeons & Dragons, wondering if his influence is sufficient to render Cho Jun-su the status of an NPC, a ‘Non-Player Character’ as controlled in the game by the ‘leader’ or Dungeon Master, or if he too, is an NPC, not for Cho Jun-su, but rather for Kim Jong Un. This is not an aspect that the author really explores, merely bringing it to our attention as he hurtles to the book’s conclusion. It is the novel’s startlingly missed opportunity.

Although he does not belabour the point, it is clear that the author knows about Dungeons & Dragons and roleplaying games in general. It is not a case of the author just having done his research to be able to use Dungeons & Dragons as a literary device. Or if it is, then that research is more than cursory. Readers in the know will recognise the copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide from the description given, a great red demon (or efrit) grasping a scantily clad women in its left hand, a sword in its right as a knight and a wizard attempt a rescue as being for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, First Edition. They will realise too that Jun-su’s battered copy is later replaced by Dungeons & Dragons, Fourth Edition. This could have been the result of simple research, but there is more. British readers will recognise the name of the games shop in North Finchley from where the author in the book purchases a copy of The Habitition of the Stone Giant Lord which is an undoubtedly obscure choice. There is though, Jun-su’s initial reaction to playing the game, his fascination with its imagined world, with it feeling more real than the one around him. This is something that many a roleplayer will recognise, that heady rush of discovery of not just having an imagination, but of being able to explore it too.

It would be trite to have simply explored the imagination as a means of liberation from conformity and repression. The Sorcerer of Pyongyang does that, certainly, but it goes beyond it to examine the dangers of the imagination, not just under the ordinary Orwellian repression of North Korea, but also in the layers of reality surrounding Pyongyang’s elite under radically different circumstances and under two different Supreme Leaders. Again and again, Cho Jun-su finds his imagination pulling him onward in a great journey through a bildungsroman of realities. The Sorcerer of Pyongyang is a fascinating glimpse behind the walls of the Hermit Kingdom that is North Korea with Marcel Theroux using Dungeons & Dragons as a surprisingly sophisticated means to drive its story along in a fashion that would have been unthinkable, let alone acceptable when Cho Jun-su first entered the House of Possibilities.

Friday Fiction: At the Mountains of Madness Volume II

At the Mountains of Madness is horror author H.P. Lovecraft’s longest and one of his most famous stories. It takes the form of a series of letters, written by Doctor William Dyer, a geologist from Miskatonic University, who in late 1930 led an expedition to the Antarctic which would end in disaster, madness, and death following the discovery of the remains of prehistoric lifeforms unknown to science, buried in the permafrost and the remains of a cyclopean city behind a mountain range the height of the Himalayas—previously never seen before, the city long abandoned for terrible reasons which are ultimately revealed at the denouement of the story. Specifically, Doctor Dyer’s letters have been written in an effort to prevent a second, and much more important and widely publicised expedition which is being mounted to the Antarctic from following in the same path. The story has a strong sense of atmosphere and environment—the ice and snow, and extreme low temperatures play a major role in the narrative, serving as a starkly frigid backdrop against which its events take place and its equally stark revelations as to the horrid and horrifying events in the past and their dark influences upon the origins of mankind.

Originally serialised in the February, March, and April 1936 issues of Astounding Stories, At the Mountains of Madness has been published many times since and in more recent years adapted into songs, musicals, graphic novels, radio serials, and more. The very latest adaptation is none of these, but an illustrated version of the novel. At the Mountains of Madness is published by Free League Publishing, a publisher best known for roleplaying games such as Mutant: Year Zero – Roleplaying at the End of Days and Forbidden Lands – Raiders & Rogues in a Cursed World, this is not the publisher’s first such title. That would be The Call of Cthulhu, the classic of American horror literature and the short story that is arguably H.P. Lovecraft’s most well-known. As with that classic, the Free League Publishing edition of At the Mountains of Madness is fully illustrated by French artist François Baranger and presented in a large 10½ by 14 inches folio format.

At the Mountains of Madness Volume I only took the protagonists as far as the upper reaches of the Elder Thing city, it closing at the point where the protagonists are preparing to enter the city’s subterranean depths. Baranger’s final illustration was subtly ominous, the stonework of the wall around the entrance to the tunnel below the Elder Thing city casting a skull-like shadow… It is Baranger’s gorgeous artwork that stood out in the first volume and again, his superlative illustrations capture the frigid, shattered, and alien of the Elder Things on the other side of the Mountains of Madness in the second volume, At the Mountains of Madness Volume I. If the first volume was dominated by wide panoramas of the Antarctic wastes, his artwork balances that here with a sense of height that dwarves the explorers, Doctor William Dyer and the student, Danforth. As they delve deeper into the city and Dyer begins to translate the hieroglyphic murals, the art changes to match, illustrating it in time to Lovecraft’s text as both men learn the long history of the city and its strange inhabitants. Thus there is a switch back and forth between the city in ruins and the city as a living place for the Elder Things, sense of stillness in the former and movement in the latter. No more so than in the terrible confrontation between the Elder Things and the Cthulhu Spawn, an eldritch battle over which great Cthulhu looms. In the text, Dyer notes the sense of awe at the alien city and again that is matched by the Baranger from the first page to the last.

The tone changes as the Elder Things devise and develop the terrible protoplasmic intelligences known as Shoggoths. Even their appearance seems to overawe the Elder Things, imbuing the alien creatures with sense of sympathy and even fear on their behalf...! This though turns shock as the two men first discover the remains of the missing Gedney and his dog—whose disappearance was detailed in At the Mountains of Madness Volume I—and the strange giant albino penguins! Then find out what happened to the Elder Things that were woken in the first half and who were responsible their nemesis—the dread Shoggoth! The final scenes are a rush, as the Shoggoth threaten engulf Dyer and Danforth and the two men make a desperate escape from the city and to their aeroplane. Only in the final scene, do we focus at all upon either of the men, a look of sheer terror upon Danforth’s face as he takes one last terrible look at where he has just come from!

The text for this second volume of At the Mountains of Madness, as with the first, are taken from the standard version of Lovecraft’s story. Although there is no change to the text in terms of content, there is in terms of emphasis, there in places being sentences and paragraphs being placed in a larger font. This is often jarring and does not match Lovecraft’s story, feeling unnecessary given that Branager’s illustrations are there exactly to deliver that emphasis.

If the reader was disappointed to have to wait for At the Mountains of Madness Volume II is after At the Mountains of Madness Volume I, then that wait has been worth it. At the Mountains of Madness Volume II is a stunning book, but then again, so was At the Mountains of Madness Volume I. François Baranger fantastically depicts and contrasts the present and the past of the city beyond the Mountains of Madness in this second volume, just as the second volume as a whole, contrasts the stark alienness and openness of the Antarctic with the oppressive heights of the ruins of the Elder thing city. Of course, At the Mountains of Madness Volume II is not a standalone book, yet its artwork almost transcends the necessity for the first volume. Together, At the Mountains of Madness Volume I and At the Mountains of Madness Volume II combine to retell H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness in a glorious fashion that will delight readers who already know the story and readers who are new to his cosmic horror.

Friday Fiction: The Gutter Prayer

The Gutter Prayer is a fantastic novel of worldbuilding and tumultuous change. The debut from Gareth Hanrahan—an author best known for his many roleplaying credits, from The Persephone Extraction to The Pirates of Drinax—and much more besides, it opens with a prologue written in the second person that narrates a burglary upon the House of Law in the city of Guerdon. It gives a strange, almost impersonal point of view to the beginning of the novel, the identity of the narrator not quite clear, but oh so important as the events of the story reveal later. The burglary though is a failure, forcing its perpetrators, Carillon, an orphan newly returned to the city after years away as a refugee, Rat, a young Ghoul not wanting to join his kind below, and Spar, a Stoneman, cursed with a disease which causes him to ossify into stone, and ultimately die if he does not receive injections of the serum, alkahest, to flee. In the wake of an explosion they know nothing about, the trio splits up, chased by the Tallowmen, waxworks which keep going as long as their wick remains alight, created by the Alchemists Guild to help enforce the laws and keep the peace. That explosion and the identity of the narrator in the prologue set off a chain of events which reverberate throughout the rest of novel.

Guerdon stands at the heart of the novel, a fantasy-industrial city-port which remains neutral in the ongoing Godswar afflicting other nearby nations. Religious strife underlies its history though, religious freedom allowed in the city because the Church of the Kept Gods threw down the dark rule of the Black Iron Gods and their vile servants. In recent times, the influence of the Kept Gods has diminished as the power and influence of the Alchemists grew and turned Guerdon into the soot-strewn industrial powerhouse that it is today. In the narrow streets and through the warrens of the smugglers’ tunnels lurks the Brotherhood, the city’s thieves’ guild—of which the novel’s central trio are members—whilst below are stranger factions still. Both are Lovecraftian in nature, the Ghouls feeding upon the city’s dead lowered into corpse chutes by the Church of the Kept Gods, whilst the Crawling Ones, amorphous collective masses of worms which can take on humanoid shapes, plot for greater power and influence in the city above at the expense of the Ghouls.

Once past the prologue, the story switches back and forth between various character points of view, initially Carillon, Rat, and Spar, in turn providing different views of the city and thus nbuilding and building Guerdon. They counterpart each other, Carillon impulsive and impatient, Spar physically slowed into terminal patience, with the pragmatic Rat between them. Guerdon though, forms a character of its own as the author serves up one aspect of the city after another, often seeming to throw them away before moving onto the next, leaving the reader to wonder if he will ever return to explain or expand. The three central protagonists, plus Guerdon itself, are not the only characters given time in the spotlight. Carillon has a starchy cousin, Eladora, who provides a different perspective upon their extended family; the three are hunted by Jere, a thief taker with connections; and Aleena, foul-mouthed and weary, who as a Saint of the Kept Gods channels their power. Not all of the other characters in the novel are accorded such treatment and consequently, some are underwritten.

The Gutter Prayer is also a tale of responsibilities, each of the three central characters gaining them, often unwillingly, due to the events of the novel, in the case of Carillon coming to her as a result of the vents of the prologue. In turn, they pull each of the three away from their central friendship which is so strong at the beginning of the novel, especially as the pace of the book picks up and up as their stories and the book comes to a climax.

Most obviously, in terms of genre, with its guilds and gods, thieves and cults, The Gutter Prayer is a dark fantasy, and whilst the industrialisation of alchemy in Guerdon does push it towards the steampunk genre, the novel is neither pseudo-Victorian nor obsessed with mechanical technology. It is rather Dickensian in both its character and its griminess, but The Gutter Prayer is ultimately more of a horror story, and whilst the author’s depiction of the Crawling Ones and their servants is suitably Lovecraftian, the truly creepy creations in the novel are the Tallowmen and the Gullmen. The latter appear only a few times in the novel, but that is enough, because seagulls given arms and legs is not something that you want to be thinking about. The former though, are a constant presence and threat—chasing, watching, guarding, herding… Each is the facsimile in stretched wax of their former self, vaguely self-aware, but always knowing that if their wick is extinguished, then so is their soul.

Throughout it is interesting to see the author going through the process of world-building through the narrative rather than the construction we are used to seeing done via roleplaying supplements. Although there are mentions of the wider world and then just the one fantastic excursionary scene, the action of The Gutter Prayer is confined to Guerdon itself. As much as the city is brought to life, there is still very much left for the reader to wonder at and hope that the author returns to in later books. Were The Gutter Prayer a roleplaying supplement, then perhaps it would be a different matter. In terms roleplaying, any number of rules sets could be used to portray Guerdon and its inhabitants, for example, Into the Odd would work.

The Gutter Prayer is a fast-paced—sometimes too fast-paced as the reader tries to keep up—and grim and grimy dark fantasy. It evokes a wonderfully sooty and tarnished sense of place in Guerdon and explores it through a cast of engaging characters who face difficult choices and undergo often traumatic transitions. The Gutter Prayer is a great introduction to Guerdon and the Black Iron Legacy series, and an exciting and engaging debut novel.

Friday Fiction: At the Mountains of Madness Volume I

At the Mountains of Madness is horror author H.P. Lovecraft’s longest and one of his most famous stories. It takes the form of a series of letters, written by Doctor William Dyer, a geologist from Miskatonic University, who in late 1930 led an expedition to the Antarctic which would end in disaster, madness, and death following the discovery of the remains of prehistoric lifeforms unknown to science, buried in the permafrost and the remains of a cyclopean city behind a mountain range the height of the Himalayas—previously never seen before, the city long abandoned for terrible reasons which are ultimately revealed at the denouement of the story. Specifically, Doctor Dyer’s letters have been written in an effort to prevent a second, and much more important and widely publicised expedition which is being mounted to the Antarctic from following in the same path. The story has a strong sense of atmosphere and environment—the ice and snow, and extreme low temperatures play a major role in the narrative, serving as a starkly frigid backdrop against which its events take place and its equally stark revelations as to the horrid and horrifying events in the past and their dark influences upon the origins of mankind.

Originally serialised in the February, March, and April 1936  issues of Astounding Stories, At the Mountains of Madness has been published many times since and in more recent years adapted into songs, musicals, graphic novels, radio serials, and more. The very latest adaptation is none of these, but an illustrated version of the novel. At the Mountains of Madness is published by Free League Publishing, a publisher best known for roleplaying games such as Mutant: Year Zero – Roleplaying at the End of Days and Forbidden Lands – Raiders & Rogues in a Cursed World, this is not the publisher’s first such title. That would be The Call of Cthulhu, the classic of American horror literature and the short story that is arguably H.P. Lovecraft’s most well-known. As with that classic, the Free League Publishing edition of At the Mountains of Madness is fully illustrated by French artist François Baranger and presented in a large 10½ by 14 inches folio format. 

However, this is only At the Mountains of Madness Volume I. Running to just sixty-four pages, the text of the story only takes the protagonists as far as the upper reaches of the Elder Thing city, it closing at the point where the protagonists are preparing to enter the city’s subterranean depths. Fortunately, the fact that  the reader will need to wait for the second part to see more of Baranger’s gorgeous artwork is the first volume’s only downside (all right, to be fair, the large format of the book makes it difficult to place on almost any book shelf). This though should not persuade the reader from perusing the gorgeous pages of At the Mountains of Madness Volume I, for Baranger illustrates every page, brilliantly realising many of the novella’s many scenes. These begin in the dusty halls of Miskatonic University, quiet and contemplative, Doctor Dyer putting pen to paper to warn the upcoming expedition, before leaping into the joy and hope of his own expedition as it sets sail from Boston for the South Pole. There, the large folio format grants space to capture the sense of scale to the expedition’s task, to the southernmost continent itself, and ultimately the city of the Elder Things itself, with wide, glorious vistas of the Antarctic and later the shattered, alien city—all bare, starkly white and icy. A later piece inverts this, depicting Dyer and his colleague, Danforth’s flight through the city with a dizzying sense of depth as it threads its way between colossal ruins.

Contrasting this is the closeness of the expedition, working and discussing the discoveries made, almost huddling together for warmth and to maintain a human connection. Here the colours are darker and use muddier tones as the expedition discovers the remains of the Elder Things in the caverns below the ice and later perform autopsies upon them. There is a nod to The Thing in these scenes, dripping menace and mystery as the weird corpses thaw and strange fluids fall to the floor, drop by drop. Baranger’s final illustration is subtly ominous, the stonework of the wall around the entrance to the tunnel below the Elder Thing city casting the a skull-like shadow…

At the Mountains of Madness Volume I is a stunning book. The likelihood is that the reader of this book will have read H.P. Lovecraft’s story before, probably more than once, but François Baranger brings the story to life in rich, gorgeous colour that captures both the grandeur and scale of the expedition’s discoveries as well as the dread claustrophobia of its mysteries and realisations. At the Mountains of Madness Volume I is a glorious way for new readers to discover H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness and for veteran readers to revisit its mystery and madness anew. 

Friday Filler: Board Games in 100 Moves

Another year and another bumper crop of board games as 2019 continues the trend of seeing the release of ever more board game titles and playing board games becomes firmly cemented as a hobby that everyone can enjoy. 2019 was also a good year for books about boardgames too, including The Board Game Book: The essential guide to the best new games, a retrospective of the last two years’ worth of games and Meeples Together: How and Why Cooperative Board Games Work, a detailed examination of board games in which the players work together to defeat the game. Joining them is a much broader examination of the board game, an examination which takes in eight thousand years of playing games from the ancient world to today’s golden age of meeples, co-operation, legacy change through play, thematic play, superb production values, and fantastic designs—all of which have come about in the last three decades. That book is Board Games in 100 Moves.

Published by Dorling Kindersley—a publisher known for the quality of its illustrated reference works, so the quality of the book is certain to be good, Board Games in 100 Moves is written by two stalwarts of the British hobby games industry, James Wallis, designer of The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron Munchausen and Alas Vegas and Ian Livingstone, co-founder of Games Workshop and co-creator of the Fighting Fantasy series amongst many other things. Both are avid board game players and collectors and in their time have played thousands of games. Together they take the reader through eight thousand years of games and six ages of game design, all in exactly one hundred games.

From the start, almost like the rules to every good board game should, Board Games in 100 Moves explains its set-up. Both authors introduce their love of board games and explain the book’s premise, how it is organised, preparing the reader for the grand tour that is come. It sets out what the one hundred board games of its title are—from Senet in 3100 BCE, the Royal Game of Ur in 2600 BCE, and Hounds and Jackals in 2000 BCE to Beasts of Balance and Sushi Go Party! in 2016, and The Mind in 2019. Along the way it lists classics like Chess and Backgammon, playing cards and Pachisi, surprises such as Kriegsspiel and Suffragetto, stalwarts such as Scrabble and Monopoly, children’s designs like Mouse Trap! and Connect 4, it touches upon roleplaying games such as Dungeons & Dragons, before coming up to date with modern designs like Settlers of Catan, Pandemic, and Codenames.

The first four ages of Board Games in 100 Moves are ages of materials—wood and stone, paper and print, cardboard, and plastic—and examine how those materials changed the look and feel of the games as much as it examines the games themselves. In ‘Wood and Stone’ it looks at the oldest game that we know of, Senet, noting that the Pharaohs were fans of the Egyptian game of passing and that the game had spiritual significance in that passing also referred to moving into the afterlife and then it looks at the first game that we have rules for, the Royal Game of Ur. What is fascinating here is how the rules were rediscovered. Other games examined in this period are ones that we would recognise today—Go, Pachisi (better known by its modern variants, Ludo and Parcheesi), the many variants of Men’s Morris (originally a game spread by the Romans across their empire), Backgammon, and of course, Chess.

A common feature of these games is that often being made from stone or wooden, there is a certain permanence to them, but in the age of paper and print, games became colourful and complex, yet easy to transport and teach. This is when playing cards evolved from tarot cards and the first printed board games appear, such as the Royal Game of the Goose. The nature of games changed again towards the end of this period when they set out to be instructional and educational, as with A Journey Through Europe, before the age of cardboard heralded the arrival of games about campaign, first military battles, but then political ones two. So this examines Kriegsspiel, the wargame designed to teach Prussian officers military tactics and The Game of Suffragette, published to promote the cause for female emancipation, before mentioning some of the actual games as propaganda published before and during World War 2. Here it does not shy away from some of the more reprehensible and unpleasant game designs of the period. 

Unsurprisingly, Monopoly and its origins as a game completely counter to its big business theme, is highlighted before we come to the age of plastic. This period is likely to be the one that the older board game player—and certainly the authors—will be most familiar with as it is when they first played games. So Mouse Trap!, Scrabble, Connect 4, Twister, and both Risk and Diplomacy, but as Board Games in 100 Moves into the age of imagination with publication of Dungeons & Dragons and the rise of the Eurogame, there is a sense of the foundations being laid for where we are now, in an age of imagination, of Eurogames like Ticket to Ride and Settlers of Catan, and exploring a future of co-operation, of a global hobby with board games from Japan like Machi Koro and from the Czech Republic like Codenames, and digitalisation. Although one hundred games might lie at the heart of Board Games in 100 Moves, along the way, the book looks at more than that single hundred, not necessarily in the depth and detail accorded its singular hundred, but enough to intrigue and wonder about finding out more (or in some cases, rejecting out of hand).

This being a book from Dorling Kindersley, is very nicely laid out with hundreds of illustrations which showcase the changing look and design of board games throughout history as much as the words explore their impact and design. It even comes with an excellent index and buried deep in the back of the book there is a bibliography for the reader who wants to explore the hobby a little more as well as play the many games listed within the pages of Board Games in 100 Moves.

It should be no surprise that Board Games in 100 Moves gives a somewhat Anglocentric history of its subject matter. After all, the format that it is inspired by—A History of the World in 100 Objects—and its authors are all British. This in part also explains the attention paid to Games Workshop and Warhammer, although their inclusion in this history is certainly warranted and certainly does not detract from the inclusion of games from all over the world. Where Board Games in 100 Moves differs from A History of the World in 100 Objects is that it is not a look at a hundred specific games or objects—anyone wanting that should be directed to Green Ronin Publishing’s Hobby Games: The 100 Best or Family Games: The 100 Best—for many of the games listed at the book’s start are never mentioned again. (Which possibly means that there is a scope for a book which examines each title on that list in turn.) Instead Board Games in 100 Moves is a hundred moves through history of organised play, an examination of the importance and impact, the enjoyment and effect, of board games.

Board Games in 100 Moves is an interesting and informative introduction to the history of board games, an examination a hundred—and more—board games you may or have not heard of, and might want to play. For the board game fan, this book is a must, whilst for the roleplayer, this book is still of interest because of the many ways in which the two hobbies overlap each other, but either way, Board Games in 100 Moves is an attractive and enjoyable read from start to finish. One that fans of tabletop games of all types will find interesting.

Friday Fiction: H.P. Lovecraft’s Dagon for beginning readers

Much like the earlier H.P. Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulhu for beginning readers, the cartoon cartoon artwork and simple prose of H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers would suggest that it is a book for children. Unlike the various Call of Cthulhu ABC books to the delightful Where’s My Shoggoth? which have successfully melded the Cosmic Horror of Lovecraft’s fiction with the children’s author of your choice in a format which can be enjoyed by children, H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers uses the form of the children’s book to retell a tale of cosmic horror whose conclusion might be a legitimate response to the cosmic horror at its heart, it is a conclusion that is highly unsuitable for younger readers.

Published by Chaosium, Inc., what H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers does is bring both the prose style and the art style of Theodor Seuss Geisel—or Dr. Seuss—to the works of H.P. Lovecraft, or rather to one of Lovecraft’s earliest stories, ‘Dagon’. This is written as the last testament of an ex-sailor driven to drugs by a strange encounter in the Pacific during his service in the Great War. When his ship is captured by an Imperial German sea-raider, he escapes in a lifeboat, but with little idea of where he is, he drifts aimlessly until he suddenly awakes to find himself on land again, but not land he has ever seen. It is a mire of black mud, lifeless and undulating, reeking from the stench of decaying fish, perhaps thrown up from the sea floor. Searching for a way to the sea, he makes his way to the only landmark of note, a hill, beyond which he finds a chasm. Inside he discovers a monolith crudely carved with creatures of the sea and depiction of fish-like men, but then he is disturbed by a fish thing of great size and hideousness.  Fleeing to the surface and a great storm, the narrator next awakens in a San Francisco hospital, but when tells his tale, no believes him and no expert can corroborate his experiences. As time on the strange island haunts his nightmares, his fears grows that the fish thing and others will come for him and mankind, and as scratches are heard at his door, he is driven to suicide.

As with H.P. Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulhu for beginning readers, author and artist R.J. Ivankovic presents H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers in the anapestic tetrameter rhyming cadence and art style of Dr. Seus. Yet where the combination of styles leavened Lovecraft’s sometimes heavy style and effectively portrayed the horror of story in H.P. Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulhu for beginning readers, in H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers is not quite as effective. The text is sparse, but often feels forced, verses interspersed between great swathes of blue and black, that only serve to give the book an incredibly bleak look and feel. That may well fit the source, but it does not make for as riveting a story as in H.P. Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulhu for beginning readers. Then there is the ending, which renders H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers unsuitable for any but a mature audience, and certainly not for ‘beginning readers’.

Ultimately, the issue with H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers is the source story. It begins well enough, the encounter with the Imperial German Navy commerce raider being given a nicely done piratical touch, but once it descends on the desolate mire of the strange island, there is little that R.J. Ivankovic’s art can do to lift the bleakness of the story and there is little that he can do with the text either, which feels leaden despite being in anapestic tetrameter. It does not help that the sparseness of the text—as much as it enforces the bleakness of both story and art—actually breaks up the story.

Nevertheless, the artwork in H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers is excellent, inspired by and perfectly aping the style of Dr. Seus. Although cartoon-like, this art never shies away from portraying the horror described in the text. Yet the  bleakness of both story and art, the terrible nature of the end, do make that horror explicit and overbearing, and so H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon for Beginning Readers is not suitable for any but mature readers—as Chaosium makes clear—and it is all just a little blue. There is no doubt that the format really works, as seen in H.P. Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulhu for beginning readers, so hopefully the author will select a better story for the next story in the series.

Friday Fiction: Freeway Fighter vol. 1

Friday Fiction is a series of reviews which focus upon fiction which will be of interest to roleplayers and gamers in general. These can be novels as much as they can graphic novels, which is the case with Freeway Fighter. Older gamers will recognise this as the title of the thirteenth entry of Steve Jackson and Ian Livingstone’s Fighting Fantasy series—the history of which is detailed in You Are the Hero—and this graphic novel not only shares the same title, but also the same world. As the title suggests, this world is a post-apocalyptic future in the vein of the Mad Max films—three of which, Mad Max, Mad Max 2, and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, had been released by the time of Freeway Fighter’s publication in 1985.

Freeway Fighter is set in a post-apocalyptic United States, after some eighty-five percent of the world’s population have been wiped out by a plague. As civilisation collapsed, the survivors divided into two groups. Most have fortified themselves in isolated towns and settlements, huddled together for protection and husbanding and trading for what few resources they could, whilst the second, roam from settlement to settlement, stealing and raiding, and killing who refused to submit to their demands. The gangs drive heavily modified vehicles, souped up, fitted with spikes, their crews armed with a variety of arms and armour. After all, there is no-one to stop them from taking it now.

In the Fighting Fantasy book, the player takes the role of a citizen of the town of New Hope. The settlement is in desperate need of a fresh supply of petrol and so send out the protagonist in a Dodge Interceptor motor car across the wastes in order to procure a tanker filled with the needed fuel. Published in 2017, the graphic novel, which collects the four-issue comic series written by Andi Ewington, drawn and inked by Simon Coleby, and coloured by Len O’Grady, is a prequel, set some twenty-four months after the spread of the virus which killed most of humanity. As the story opens, Former I-400 Driver Bella De La Rosa is driving and surviving, remensising of the days when she was a hotshot rookie racing driver and set to make a big name for herself. She is skilled enough to outdrive most nomads, but when she runs into the marauders known as the Doom Dogs, she and her recently joined passenger face a much more dangerous challenge as they attempt to reach New Hope, for her car itself becomes the subject of the Doom Dogs’ leader’s desire. This is no surprise, since the car plays a major role in the storyline and will go on to literally drive the storyline in the Freeway Fighter solo adventure book.

Freeway Fighter—both the Fighting Fantasy solo adventure and the graphic novel—wear their influences on its sleeve. Lonely stretches of highway, abandoned cars, empty towns with just about enough to picked over and scavenged from, protagonists hardened to the disaster which has fallen humanity and prepared to do almost anything to survive, and villains who believe that might means right and who will do anything to survive. The story it tells is also fairly straightforward, perhaps verging on the familiar, essentially setting everything for the reader to go and play Freeway Fighter as the sequel. Andi Ewington’s script is sparse, leaving room for art, inks, and colours of Simon Coleby and Len O’Grady to shine through and atmospherically depict the ruin that the world has fallen to and capture the action of car-on-car combat. Indeed, the look of Freeway Fighter feels not dissimilar to the Mad Max computer game of 2015.

Beyond the story itself, the Freeway Fighter collection includes a history of Fighting Fantasy and the Freeway Fighter solo adventure book in particular as well as a tribute to Kevin Bulmer, the artist on the Freeway Fighter solo adventure book. Both serve as a nice adjunct to You Are the Hero, as author of both that and the history here is Jonathan Green. Casual readers who have picked up Freeway Fighter because it looked interesting will find these extra pieces infomrative enough, but really they are aimed at the Fighting Fantasy fan who will appreciate the extra background and detail.

Published by Titan Comics, Freeway Fighter is an enjoyable, if slight post-apocalyptic tale of survival and car combat. The art is excellent and the action nicely captured, and the story, if somewhat light, sets the reader up for his playthrough of the Freeway Fighter solo adventure book. Fighting Fantasy fans will enjoy this in particular and will want to have it alongside You are the Hero on their shelves.