I used to read a lot. Mainly fantasy genre fiction, because that’s what floated my boat. Nothing too meaty, but still fun. I cut my teeth on Xanth, Dragonlance, and the Belgariad. I did Pern, Forgotten Realms, Lankhmar, Spellsinger, expanded universe Star Wars, and of COURSE I did Discworld. The common thread here is that they’re all extended series of multiple books in the same setting. Very few one-off’s. I found a setting I liked, and I stuck with it through thick and thin.
Then I immigrated halfway around the world and my library was sold off to help finance the move.
Thus began a fairly length drought in my reading, in which Tad Williams’ Otherland series was about the only oasis of note, until Privateer Press launched Skull Island Expeditions. As a player of Warmachine, I’m already well invested in the setting, and sank my teeth with glee into the novellae that rolled off the digital presses. This in turn led to my overlong treatise on Dave Gross’ Dark Convergence, touching on the use of titillation in fiction and the merits and/or potential pitfalls of an author changing voices as he writes. I had read The Devil’s Pay, also by Gross, and it wasn’t a favourite of mine, but Dark Convergence played much more to his strengths as an author, and I enjoyed it to the extent that I ended up with a copy of his Pathfinder novel Prince of Wolves in my hands.
Now, here’s where it got interesting for me. I had two primary problems while reading the book.
The first is that, while I am a gamer, I’ve never played the Pathfinder RPG. I’ve never even flipped through the rulebook. I’m peripherally aware that it’s a fantasy RPG setting, but know no details whatsoever other than what could be gleaned from casually casting one’s gaze over the covers of the modules on the shelf at the gaming store. Accordingly, I found myself – a self-admitted series junkie who really enjoys stories told in familiar settings – looking at something completely unknown. Even after the first few pages I found myself confused. With no grounding in the setting, I had no real idea why someone from Nation A would be viewed a certain way by someone from Nation B, yet the nationalities and locale names dropped like a rain of frogs, all noisome and with the occasional splat . Anyone with a basic grounding in the setting would have been nodding along quite happily, but as an outsider it was a challenge to muscle through. I plunged in the understanding that, at some point in the novel, I’d have enough of an understanding to blithely stride forth. For the record, I was right, and once the fog had lifted, I was able to enjoy the book all the more.
The other problem was that Gross has written the series from a First Person perspective. This is something I don’t typically enjoy in fiction, because it can generate an empathic connection with characters that I may or may not want to have any empathy with. If it can be pulled off successfully, it can invest the reader much more strongly in the story, but it can readily backfire as well. If the reader suddenly finds themselves in a sympathetic connection with a character engaged in something that jars it can cause a cognitive disconnect, shattering the illusion of the setting and story and leaving the reader with a metaphorical bad taste in their mouth. I’m not a hardcore reader – I read for relaxation and entertainment, not to have my worldview challenged and my moral compass jiggled (though that has certainly happened before).
Okay, now that we’ve established that, let’s finally talk about the book itself. Spoiler warning goes here. Ignore it if you want, that’s on your head, not mine ;)
Prince of Wolves follows Count Varian Jeggare, the half-Elven member of the Pathfinder society, as he seeks to track down a missing colleague. With him is the story’s other protagonist, the hellspawn (which I’ve learned means he actually has infernal heritage) Radovan. Yup, two protagonists. In a first-person narrative.
Here’s where Gross stands out, to me. One of the strongest points for me of Dark Convergence was Gross’ ability to write alternating between Sebastien Nemo and Aurora as protagonists, two competing leaders, with different personalities and different perspectives. He pulled it off and provided an exceptionally enjoyable read. When I found that Prince of Wolves not only used the same literary device, but that it was two allied protagonists, I was intrigued. Especially since, again, the book is written in the first-person.
On the one hand we have Jeggare; a political animal, the Count has a head full of social niceties and etiquette. An inquisitive mind, a sense of noble purpose – to be honest, I found him a bit of a self-important prat at times, but then I’ve never taken tea under the gazebo with Milady Uppercrust, and am otherwise as common as muck.
Oh the other hand we have Radovan; a churlish brute, Radovan comes across more as a bruiser with his heart in the right place. As Jeggare’s bodyguard, his primary role is to provide brawn to counterbalance Jeggare’s brain. This was a character I was able to more readily connect with.
The thing that impressed me, chapter after chapter, was how readily Gross was able to change gears as an author. One minute I imagine him sitting at his metaphorical typewriter with a jaunty little peaked cap with a feather in it and a twinkle in his eye, next minute the hat is gone and he’s torn the sleeves off of his golf shirt to reveal a rather obscene tattoo that gets more obscene when he flexes, and the only twinkle is coming from a menacing grin.
In the end, as confusing as it was for me early on in the book, it just *works*. The chapters focusing on Jegarre are more intellectual – digging into the mystery of the missing Pathfinder, the horrors of Willowmourn, trying to figure out what the metastory is. Those focusing on Radovan are more visceral (he said, despite the evident viscera in some of Jegarre’s chapters), more brutal. Knife fight with the Sczarni (Gypsy Werewolves). Busting out of a coffin after being sealed in and thrown on a bonfire. Sprouting demonic extremeties and going toe-to-toe with undead gribblies.
B y making the narratives from a first-person perspective Gross is able to assume the voice of either of the two characters, and even though much of the book the two are in the same scene, by having the one voice or the other as dominant he’s able to set the tone, and somewhat steer reader expectations. Even if Jeggare’s in the scene, such as the fight with a vampiric head (we’ll get to that in a second), if it’s from Radovan’s point of view you know as a reader that it’s an action scene more than it is a story advancement scene. It’s a subtle trick, and not one that I think can be pulled off by many authors, but Gross seems to have wrapped his head around the mechanics.
So more on the story itself.
The meh…:
There’s a bunch of stuff that goes… unexplained right until the very end. For example, a bridge blows up at one point, and there’s no real indication or even advancement of theory as to who was responsible until right at the very end of the book. When you finally find out who did it, it’s a case of “Oh yeah, it was that character we met briefly back at X point in the story, who hadn’t really featured in it at all prior to the bridge blowing up and even after we met him didn’t seem at the time to have relevant motivation”. At another point, after a thoroughly confusing few pages of reading as I tried to figure out what was going on with the setting, Jeggare clues in that he’s missing several days worth of memories. This would drive me *nuts* and be my primary focus for the next while, but it goes unsolved as a mystery until much later in the book, when the answer kinda falls into Jeggare’s lap.
The ooh!!!:
Oh, the twists… this was the good stuff. It was SO DAMN EASY to sink my teeth into the supporting cast as I tried to figure them out. The Sczarni – are they friend, foe, or both? What’s Malena’s real motivation? Azra intercedes when Malena tries to knock boots with Radovan – what’s Azra’s interest here? Is she trying to stop Radovan falling under Malena’s influence, or does she have a claim on Radovan herself? What of Tara and Casomir? Why is Arnissant so loyal to Jeggare after only a scrap of meat? What’s up with the bloody chicken?? Gross manages to weave a good number of twists in with the supporting casts. At numerous points I was left questioning the motives of various characters, half-expecting betrayals from different angles and yet still impressed by their execution when they showed up.
The bwah???:
As stated, I’ve read a lot of fantasy genre books. I played a lot of RPG’s back in the day, and I’ve got a pretty solid grounding in many monster mythoi… but using a [REDACTED] as the monstrous mastermind behind the whole thing? Holy crap, Gross! Talk about pulling something out of left field! I think the only thing what might have caught me more unawares was a Catoblepas! I did *not* see that coming.
The Conclusion:
Prince of Wolves was initially difficult for me to sink my teeth into, in large part due to unfamiliarity with the setting. I think the author has either taken it for granted that the reader would at least have a basic familiarity with the setting, or if assuming that they were ignorant (as I was), tried to compensate by name-dropping all over the map for the first chapter. It was a hurdle, but in the end it was worth overcoming. The story flicks adeptly between mystery and action, and while Jeggare may not be my best chum, Radovan is a character I can find myself liking. I look forward to tackling the next book in the series.