Disappointment in Lankhmar

Fog rolls in from the marshlands, up the river, and into the city - mixing with the smoke and soot from innumerable houses and forges: spread across the sprawling city. Block after block forming a veritable dungeon - rooftops, a maze over which the adept might bound and leap - the color of the town being gray out of necessity as much as decision. Thieves, cut-purses, and sell-swords lurk in the murk: and a thousand eyes watch from a thousand faces, looking away as necessary... or looking on, as it suits them.

This half-ruin, half-metropolis is Lankhmar: and the birthplace of Sword & Sorcery.

N-Spiration: Swords and Deviltry

About Swords and Deviltry

Swords and Deviltry is a collection of stories - three stories, plus an introductory piece titled Induction - authored by Appendix N great Fritz Leiber and originally published in 1970. The stories within, Induction included, were written between 1957 and 1970 and some published in Fantastic magazine prior to their inclusion in the compellation. As such, while it is not the first story to have been authored about its main protagonists, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, it is the first chronologically, in universe: providing an origin story for each of the characters and also an origin story to explain their collaboration. The characters, themselves, first appeared in print in a 1947 issue of Unknown magazine in another tale, Adept's Gambit, which would go on to be included in the published collection Swords in the Mist in 1968. More to the point, however, is the author of the collection - the esteemed Fritz Leiber: the father of Sword & Sorcery.

Literally.

In 1961, Leiber would describe his work and the work of like authors Michael Moorcock and Robert E. Howard as "sword & sorcery" in a letter to Ancalagon - coining the term, inventing the label, and giving us, if Wikipedia is to be believed, a term which "accurately describes the points of culture-level and supernatural element and also immediately distinguishes it from the cloak-and-sword (historical adventure) story."

Born in Illinois in 1910 to a married couple of Shakespearean actors, Leiber was active in authorship until his death in 1992. He is one of the last of the original pulp writers - post-dating the Weird Tales period, but being encouraged by H. P. Lovecraft in pursuit of his art - and among the most prolific: though among those tales, none are known better among the OSR and RPG community than those he authored of Fafhrd the Barbarian and the Gray Mouser.

The Snow Women

The Snow Women, the first true story presented in this collection, is awful.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest - The Snow Women is an origin story for Fafhrd: a tall, red-haired barbarian swordsman from the north. Fafhrd fills a warrior-outsider archetype and presents a classic Fighting Man in the context of OSR gaming: both in the presentation of his skills and also in the depictions of his characteristics.  

Referees - how many barbarian northmen have you seen in your games who are excessively tall (Fafhrd is said to be almost if not 7 feet in height; compared by this reviewer to Conan's 6 feet), who hail from places cold and remote, and who have at least one dead parent? Fafhrd and this origin story present these tropes to a T. 

In basic synopsis - Fafhrd travels south with his clan to an annual trading meet - after having gone a-viking with a crew of pirates a season before. He rescues a damsel in distress - twice - before fleeing south with her to the city: while at the same time (in a show of humanity: of conflicting desires and ambiguity both in morals and fidelity) abandoning several responsibilities: some he has inherited as a result of lineage and cultural expectation, some he has earned through his own actions, and some he has accepted and championed as his own prerogative. But in so painting the Fafhrd character - where the expression might be that an artist paints with a wide brush, Leiber paints with a roller. The dialog is very clunky, with exchanges feeling more like shower arguments than believable conversation. 

In particular, the presentation of dialog in a fade-to-black (or, fade-to-white, in this case) scene elicits more cringing than excitement.

Similarly, the action is stilted: as though the author is trying to subvert not the expectations of a classic hero, but the physical realities of what the hero might entail. Fafhrd is excessively tall - 7 feet, as mentioned above - and thin: "but he's super strong. This traveling merchant pushes him? And he Doesn't. Budge." - while paradoxically speaks in the voice of a tenor ("Because he practiced it that way! It's intentional as part of his tribal customs!"). Frankly, it reads like the fiction of an adolescent bluffing through his insecurities - cracking voice, gangly growth, romantic frustration... - billing them as intentional, virtuous, or covert strengths.

A great deal of world-building is accomplished in this tale. We learn a great deal about the people of the north, about their customs and their interactions, information which will explain behaviors and consequences in other places in the Leiber lexographies, in a manner consistent with the story: it does not constitute a long lore-dump: instead, providing information appropriate to the narrative at the moment and moving the story forward. While it does, however, provide these elements of background expertly, the lore is ... dumb. The women rule in the Cold Wastes - and the mechanism they use to implement their violent control is.... snowballs. (But they're more made of ice than snow so it really hurts, guys!) I could go on - but the point is made. It's known that the characters - Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser - are a nod to (if not a character model of) the author, Leiber, and his friend Harry Fischer: a fellow writer of science fiction. Perhaps these are inside jokes between them? They certainly carry the air of humor - such as in film when a scene of particular intensity is offset with a joke; or when a moment of gravity, with intent to transition to the next scene, is broken with a laugh. Perhaps. But in my lonely opinion, the joke fell on the deaf.

As such - if you read this book, skip The Snow Women.

The Unholy Grail

The Unholy Grail is much more enjoyable.

The reader may correctly surmise from The Snow Women playing origin story to Fafhrd that The Unholy Grail serves as an origin story for the Gray Mouser. It is an older story - published originally in October of 1962 - and displays more skill in terms of nabbing the imagination of the reader. The tone is much darker (which I personally tend to attribute to the more down-to-earth nature of sword and sorcery in comparison to high fantasy literature), the first paragraph grips the reader and doesn't let go - and the yarn contains swordplay, sorcery - both foul and fair - and embraces the same gray morality - painting its characters as flawed: neither good nor evil in totality. 

This is a theme through Leiber's work - that no one individual is wholly good - and at the same time, while some characters do appear to be wholly bad, the possibility is left open that this is in appearance only, in some cases, or in other cases, is the result of circumstances outside the view of the protagonists in the spotlight. 

The character Duke Janarrl, father to our female lead Ivrian, comes to mind:

...who is unwholesome in all regards presented until it becomes evident at the end that it's a coping mechanism for the repression of other experiences, other memories: thereby exploring the concept of generational abuse.

Further, regarding the technical execution of the story - Ivrian, responsible for both death of the white wizard, Glavas Rho, and for the capture of the Mouser - benefits from both a redemption arc in the role she plays in the story's climax against the Duke, to the quality of depth to her character, but also is included earlier in a foreshadowing event during a scene hunting a boar: wherein initial failure is, under duress, overturned by necessity of action.

Despite these indicators of technical talent and of thematic depth, however, the work is not without flaws. The dialog is somewhat stilted and many characters - the Mouser included - feeling one dimensional. In brief synopsis - the Gray Mouser (at this point in his career called, simply, Mouse) is an apprentice to a white wizard: one who falls victim to the prejudices Duke Janarrl against all magic. The Mouser takes his vengeance on the Duke through dark magic - initially, a voodoo doll; and then after, through an unexplained black magic poured out abstractly through the Duke's own fears and vulnerabilities. The Mouser presents the most one dimensional character of the lot - despite being a primary protagonist of the series to which this story belongs: his character is consumed with anger and with revenge: his words, his emotions, and his actions are entirely centered around that one goal.

All in all - The Unholy Grail inspired me to keep reading where The Snow Women made me want to put the book down: that said, it contains swords, sorcery, dungeons, and damsels: what more could you ask for in an Appendix N novella?

Ill Met in Lankhmar

Lastly among the tales within Swords and Deviltry one finds Ill Met in Lankhmar. 

The story opens with a heist:

...two thieves we have never met before have broken into and konked a jeweler: the lesser of whose wares they purloin, so as to "encourage him" to do better business for them to steal next time. On their return to the guild with their gains, they are ambushed by our heroes, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser: who have inadvertently chosen to ambush the thieves for fun and profit on their return trip at the same time.

Quickly coming to terms with each other as allies, the pair make quick work of the thieves and of some roughs from the guild of fighters, the Slayers' Brotherhood, hired as protection from just such an assault. After, the two slink into the night - celebrating their ill-gotten gains with their respective romantic counterparts.

Like The Snow Women, this yarn - Ill Met in Lankhmar was written in 1970: in the same year, it would go on to win the Nebula Award for "Best Novella" and, in the following, the Hugo Award for the same. It is very obvious that it was written after the fact - that is, after the characters and the work of the author was widely known: something that is evidenced best by a short exchange between the Gray Mouser and Farfhd when they initially meet regarding the pronunciation and spelling of Farfhd's name:

You know that from the opening of the Lankhmar saga in 1957 thirteen years prior to the publication of the story that readers had been incessantly writing to Leiber or to his publishers asking this exact question. After rolling ones eyes or eliciting a chuckle at this realization - the reader is obliged to note that this kind of humor perforates the text. Through their interactions - somewhat flippant despite the gravity of some of their actions - the sense of humor that the author seeks to imbue into the text makes recurrent intrusions onto the page: which leads us to the primary question the reader of this article may be asking to this point - isn't this supposed to be a review of the book's influence on my game table?

Yes, it is - and yes, it does!

While the story is on par (perhaps just a tad less) enjoyable than The Unholy Grail, regardless of that quality, the story IS a D&D game half a decade before the game came out.

The aforementioned tonal shifts between flippancy and seriousness? This occurs at the table as well as in the story. Scenes of mindless total bloodshed followed by childish jests and bar-hopping? Happens in the story. Similarly - world building: there is a place called Whore Street, where one of the thieves' guild representatives goes on vacation! This is straight out of an OSR campaign world and speaks monuments to the tone of the movement and the expectations of a referee to the game.

Swords and Deviltry, Slip-Cover
Centipede Press, 2017

Secondly, to speak to the rules itself - I mentioned in the above two guilds: one, a brotherhood of Fighting Men; the other, a brotherhood of Thieves. If you have ever played Advanced D&D and wondered at the origins of the Training rules - why do I have to seek out a mentor to get better at the thing I've been practicing on my delves - this is why. To focus on the Thieves' Guild specifically: there is a scene wherein the protagonists infiltrate the guild - seeing trainers working with apprentice thieves: showing them how to pick locks, instructing them (and testing them) on picking pockets. Without doubt - this is what Gary had in mind when he came up with the training rules: having these stories at hand, scribing down the various things that a Thief should be able to do. While - as Ringmail-enjoyers will know already - I have already made my opinions clear on what I think of guilds in your game: part of the implied setting - part of the world building of TSR D&D as produced by the rules, themselves - is evidenced in Lankhmar in the existence and the operations of the guilds referenced in this story. This, why thieves carry knives, hide in shadows, make abysmal fighters, and other influences on the D&D game - especially the AD&D game - become evident in this tale to the discerning reader.

The story takes a dark turn - ending on somewhat of a low note: reflecting the vulnerability of the protagonists that the author intended to set them (and these stories) apart from more larger-than-life characters like Howard's Conan or Moorcock's Elric - but it does end on a powerful note: and leaves the reader wanting more - whether that "more" could come from more Farfhd and the Gray Mouser or whether that "more" could come from the table is to be determined in said reader's own experience.

Further Reading

If the unique blend of low-adventure mixed with humor and horror that makes the hallmark of Fritz Leiber speaks to you - he was a prolific writer, with an extensive bibliography. His most known works are the Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser series - which, in omnibus form, comprises seven separate collections published between 1970 and 1988: all of which are available in print and electronically. Used copies abound - for those looking for an authentic experience - and for those without a Sword & Sorcery bent (I'm not sure, if you don't enjoy Sword & Sorcery, how you found this article: but welcome, without regard), his work is not limited to the genre whose name he coined, but also extends into the realms of science fiction and of horror.

Conclusion

Fritz Leiber - specifically, his creations Farfhd and the Gray Mouser - are called out, as Jack Vance and his Dying Earth - in the AD&D 1st Edition Appendix N. As such, I am legally required to say that they are entirely OSR. Swords and Deviltry is not art. The characters are not believably spoken; the stories do not contain a consistency of tone nor nod to particular verisimilitude; but they are stories of adventure. They are stories of passion and of desire. Of the three stories presented in Swords and Deviltry, one - I personally enjoyed; one - I was unable to force myself to finish; and one - I recognized the game I loved being played out from its pages. For that reason, I begrudgingly rate Swords and Deviltry 2: Mostly OSR.

What? How could you do Gary like that? I apologize - I apologize to Gary's ghost and to his legacy. However Leiber is no Howard; nor is Fafhrd a Skafloc nor the Gray Mouser a Cugel. The stories were - on the whole - enjoyable. I intend to give Leiber another go: potentially skipping ahead to Swords in the Mist: looking to some of the older works - written to tell the tale rather than later works, perhaps written with catering to the characters and a captive audience in mind. 

But it does no good to speculate.

I do recommend Swords and Deviltry - though I may find, looking further afield in the library of Leiber, that I recommend some of his works above it. In either case - keep gaming, thank you for reading, and delve on!

 

Swords and Deviltry, published by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc, of New York, NY, and all stories therein authored by Fritz Leiber and copyright to the Estate of Fritz Leiber. The Snow Women, cover art of Fantastic magazine, April 1970, illustrated by Jeff Jones. Cover of Fantastic magazine, October 1962, illustrated by Ed Emshwiller. Both images retrieved from Galactic Central Publications web, curated by Phil Stephensen-Payne. Slip cover for Swords and Deviltry, Centipede Press, by Tom Kidd - retrieved from Abe Books. Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, Dungeons & Dragons, and D&D and all imagery or references thereto related are property of Wizards of the Coast.

Clerics Wear Ringmail makes no claim of ownership of any sort to any of the aforementioned media, texts, or images and includes references to them for review purposes under Fair Use: US Code Title 17, Chapter 107. 

The slide-in of Gary... I got from a meme.