TSR, $5.99, ISBN 1-56076-931-9
Fantasy Horror, 1994
What’s a better way to spend Halloween than to take a trip to Ravenloft, a flawed but always interesting setting of “Gothic horror” from the entity then known as TSR. That’s “Gothic horror” with inverted commas because by the time the setting is in its death throes, the people involved had basically changed the definition of its brand of horror from Gothic to anything goes so long as zombies, werewolves, and vampires are involved.
Ironically, by the time the 5th Edition of Dungeons & Dragons rolled in, this setting is reduced to the one-off cameos by Count Strahd Von Zarovich, with all traces of Ravenloft erased so that boomers can place that overrated paleface in Faerun, Eberron, or whatever campaign setting created by hipsters on YouTube these days. Since then, one can argue that Ravenloft is finally Gothic horror again, if only because everything about it is then focused on a bloody supposedly all-powerful vampire sitting in his large, labyrinthine castle waiting for adventurers to stake him in the ass.
Tales of Ravenloft is the obligatory anthology that every TSR novel line tend to have, and hence, it has the usual TSR-commissioned stable of authors serving up their little takes on life in that miserable Demiplane of Dread—a place that serves as a quarantine for powerful, evil creatures that tyrannize the poor people that happen to populate their domains.
The whole thing kicks off with David Wise, not to be confused with the journalist-author of the same name, who presents The Crucible of Dr. Rudolph van Richten. Dr Rudolph van Richten is the Abraham van Helsing of this setting, the archnemesis of Strahd as well as an expert on everything evil and spooky. He plays a pretty prominent role in the Ravenloft world as one of the main good guys leading the vanguard against the forces of evil. Ah, but he starts out as a mere physician living a simple life… until he fails to heal the badly wounded son of the gypsy, I mean, Vistani head bitch Madam Radavanich. She not only curses him to lose everything he loves to evil; the Vistani also kidnaps his son and sells that poor lad off to a vampire that is craving some new “companions”. A vengeful Dr van Richten gives chase, and finds an unlikely ally in Lord Azalin, the darklord of Darkon and a lich that is pure boss when it comes to necromancy, as our skeletal villain doesn’t like Strahd at all and any slight to Strahd’s Vistani minions is a good thing where Azalin is concerned. Azalin gives Dr van Richten a huge army of zombies to lead, and what ensues is pretty predictable to anyone that has seen a zombie movie before.
This one could have been an alright zombie parade story if David Wise hadn’t gone all weird on me. The author uses the most awkward words at the most inopportune times, breaking my immersion each time he does it.
Beneath Tasha’s piteous screeching, a babble of clicks and hisses passed between the diabolical villains as they hopped along the ground, fearless of her hooves, and flung themselves upon her. They hung from her legs and shoulders and haunches by their teeth, their stumpy, digitless limbs twitching as she vainly sought to shake them off.
Sounds good right?
The miserable beast began to sway and founder, until at last her forelegs folded.
Wait, why “miserable”? After all that gory drama, the best word the author can come up with to describe the horse being devoured alive is… “miserable”?
This is just one of the many such instances when the author would set up a dramatic moment, making me go “Ooh! Eat those Vistani scumbags! Eat them all, yeah baby!”, only to then completely kill my mood by introducing a word or two that feel out of place or, you know, just not befittingly dramatic enough for that particular scene.
Next up, The Vanished Ones by Chet Williamson. This one is much better than the previous one, although it’s a pretty standard tale all the same. Ivan Dragonov, a pretty sexy and manly-man of a do-gooder, is a monster hunter that manages to contract lycanthropy while on the job. This is an adventure from his early days of struggling to reconcile himself with his affliction, as he helps look into the case of disappearing men in a town. He is hoping to get to a place where he won’t hurt anyone before the next full moon, but the people are desperate and in need of help. He can’t say no.
This is a standard “tormented hero with a dangerous side that he struggles to contain” story, but it does end on a terse note as the reader is left wondering whether Ivan will succeed in getting his affliction healed or he’d turn into a wolf and kill the priest. The outcome isn’t revealed. but come on, this is Ravenloft. What are the odds of a happy ending?
Mark Anthony is next with The House of a Hundred Windows. An unhappy lady feels trapped in an arranged marriage to an apparently unfeeling man, and occupies her time during her husband’s frequent, mysterious trips outside the house by trying to locate what seems to be a hidden window in her new home. You see, she’s been told there are a hundred windows, but no matter how many times she counts those windows, she only could locate 99 of them. Where’s that last window, and why is it hidden to this degree?
This is an intriguing story right up to that moment when the missing window is found. The story then turns into some superficial tract about women rising above being treated like chattel by the men around them. The message itself isn’t bad at all, mind you, it’s just that the protagonist up to that point never really earned her triumph. It is given to her via some ill-explained, contrived manner, and hence, the story ends on a perplexing and ultimately disappointing note.
Elaine Cunningham’s Song Singer is charming Hitchcock-ian tale of a bard that arrives in Kartakass, a land of songs and people that are actually wolves walking in human form (think The Company of Wolves), looking for a legendary bard in order to learn from him. Or so it seems. Things turn out to be far less straightforward than they seem to be at first. This one would have been a great story if the author hadn’t spent the last few pages of this short story over-explaining the twists and turns of the story. Sometimes, leaving some key details open for the reader’s interpretation would have left a far more indelible impact on that reader. Imagine if Alfred Hitchcock came out at the end of his every movie to explain in great detail what just happened. Well, that’s what the author does at the end of this story, and I really wish she hadn’t.
James M Ward’s Undefiled is far better as an introduction to a domain than a story. A knight staggers into a church in a small town, needing assistance for his sister that has been wounded during an attack by a vampire. Friar Whelm, who leads the congregation, seems like someone touched by his deity, the God of White Hope, as he can heal the wounded and even channel what seems like sparks from his hand while he is preaching to parishioners that have apparently found the deity’s favor. Whelm tells the knight of the vampire, Crave, that has been feeding off the local population, and yet, he also asks the knight to seek safety with the locals instead of going after it. Something about having faith and faith will protect them—that kind of thing.
Oh, I’m sure it will come as a great shock, snort, when the twist is introduced. Come on, this is Ravenloft, so that “twist” is actually more like a predictable outcome. Still, this is a well-written story, with the appropriate atmosphere and all. It’s also likely that Estrangia is a domain, and if yes, it is shaping up to be something far more interesting that, say, that weekend-in-hell theme park known as Barovia.
Roger E Moore’s The Briar at the Window is about Lord Godefroy, the ghostly darklord of Mordent, a domain of ghosts and everything spooky. More specifically, this is about the malevolent, arrogant ghost discovering the true extent of his own curse: to be torn apart by the ghosts of his wife and daughter, both of whom he murdered when he was alive. This one is easily one of the best stories here. It captures Godefroy’s descent from hubris and confidence into terror perfectly, and it’s everything a solid ghost short story should be. I love how the ending sentence just shorts stop of delivering pure gore, letting the reader’s imagination to generate much of the post-story shivers.
Less interesting is Allen C Kupfer’s Nocturne, which sees the “Pied Piper of Hamelyn” almost succeeding in ridding the domain of Richemulot of its wererat infestation… almost, that is. Wait. “almost” is too generous a description: that guy gets completely obliterated without much effort by Jaqueline Renier, the future darklord of this realm. Her grandfather is still the darklord when this story takes place, and I guess the intention of this story is to then show off how powerful she is. Sadly, this is done at the expense of a very interesting character that is killed before anything else can be done with him. Worse, this is done to elevate one of the most boring villains of Ravenloft ever that isn’t named Strahd: a cruel creature with all the power at her disposal, only to waste her existence pining after a bloke that has gone into hiding just to get away from her.
The Wailing by Kate Novak highlights a daring adventure of one of the more famous do-gooders in this setting, George Weathermay, as he tries to rescue a baby only to find himself pitted against the banshee Tristessa, the darklord of Keening herself. Tristessa is one of the most painful darklords to read about—and hence, she’s awesome—because she’s mad and she only wants her own baby back. Thing is, she’s a banshee with no way of nourishing a baby, so all the babies that she either has her minions kidnap and bring to her or receives as tributes from people wanting safe passage through her domain… well, these babies are horrifically mutated, and worse, they will slowly starve to death as they are lain negligently on the cold stone floor. While reading this story, I find myself going “Please, please don’t kill off the baby!” in my head because, like all aging horror fans, I eventually reach that sad, sad point where I am perfectly fine with everything getting disemboweled and chewed up except for children and animals. Fortunately, the baby has a happy ending, and I love George Weathermay even more now.
Gene DeWeese serves up Von Kharkov, which is a slice of the past of the future darklord of Valacha. This story isn’t too bad, but the subject of the story… oh boy. Ulrik Von Kharkov has always been on the side of cringe, as he’s a panther that is magically transformed into a handsome black man, who can then transform back into a panther whenever it’s convenient for the plot, and somehow he also becomes a vampire along the way. He also has the hots for women, so he will have a lottery to pick a woman to marry, and the poor woman would be killed before the year is out because he can’t help himself. This guy, in other words, is the token blaxploitation villain of the setting, replete with stereotypical behavior such as unbridled lust and rape tendencies. Really now, just what were they thinking when they came up with this character?
DJ Heinrich’s Sight and Sound has a poor bloke trying to rescue his sister from Castle Blaustein, the home of Lord Bluebeard. Bluebeard is the Caucasian counterpart of Von Kharkov—he is far more concerned about finding brides to marry and later kill. This one is a pretty pointless read, though. At least the previous story shows a glimpse into Von Kharkov’s life; this one is just about how evil Bluebeard can be. Tell me something I don’t know.
Jeff Grubb’s The Judgment of abd-al-Mamat brings a touch of the Middle-East to Ravenloft. It revolves around abd-al-Mamat, a lowly born fellow that manages to become an advisor to his tribe leader. However, he’s reached the ceiling where his career progression is concerned, and he begins to resent the fact that he, acknowledged by all as the wisest, still has to defer to oafish louts just because these louts were born into the right bloodline. Eventually, he gets his wish, but is absolutely corrupted by power. Worse, while he clearly wants to rule, he also develops sheer loathing for his subjects, as they have come to rely on him to tell them how to lead their lives. All this will culminate in… you know, I am still not sure why and how the gruesome denouement can come to be. Up until the point, things are going so well as I am enjoying how abd-al-Mamat is coming to hate the fact that he has received what he wished for. There are only so many things one can hand wave off as “That’s what the Dark Powers do!” before things start to feel way too much like the author pulling things out of his rear end. All in all, a good story up until the bloody denouement.
James Lowder’s The Rigor of the Game involves a game of chance and Lord Soth. I like this one, but I’m not going to lie: this story could have been set anywhere as it is one of those stories that lack a distinct Ravenloft flavor. This one could have been any story with serial numbers adjusted to fit a setting. Still, the story is well written, Lord Soth is as usual full of IDGAF BDE, and while there aren’t many surprises here, I have fun revisiting Sithicus. I mean, their elves are homicidal maniacs, and that’s just awesome.
Juanita Colson’s Cold, Hard Silver is about a bunch of idiots wanting to look for treasure in a place they know is guarded by a warmth-seeking ghost that kills with her touch. Guess what happens. This one is alright, but at the same time, it’s very forgettable.
J Robert King’s Objets d’Art is easily one of the most well-written story of the bunch. The phraseology is top notch, and the narrative really captures the zeal an art lover would feel when it comes to the concept of immortalizing beauty for all time. This story allows readers a glimpse into the wicked mind of Stezen D’Polarno, the Dorian Gray-wannabe of Ravenloft and the darklord of Ghastria. While the twists and turns seem telegraphed ahead of time a bit too obviously, this one still manages to be a pretty chilling tale of immortality gone awry.
Nick Pollota’s The Freak turns the Headless Horseman into a genuinely terrifying and sadistic creature, using a poor fellow with a misshapen face as a beacon to select his next victims. As those that try to torture and kill the titular character will learn, all that ill-treat him will soon lose their heads, literally, to the Headless Horseman. This one is fiendish, evil, and so much fun as a result, and I really love the cruelty of the fiend especially towards the end. However, the good things about this story are negated considerably by the colossal moron that is the freak in question (running to warn the very people that tried to kill him about the Horseman, only to nearly get killed again—repeat and rinse) and the over the top cartoon villainy of the people in that setting.
Elaine Bergstrom is up next with The Weaver’s Pride, which is a prequel to her full-length Ravenloft novel Tapestry of Dark Souls. This one is kind of messy, as it’s like The Shining, only more Elmer Fudd than anything else, and all over a stupid cloth. This is easily one of the more forgettable stories of the lot.
William W Connors’s The Glass Man is about a thief that steals from a “master wizard” in the domain of Hazlan, only to realize that he has somehow manages to become invisible when he feels like it. Well, this seems fun… until he realizes that he can’t control the gift like he thought he could, and he is fast losing the ability to interact with solid objects. Oops. This one feels like some amalgamation of elements from other more established horror fiction, sloppily given a Ravenloft paint job. This one is also a forgettable story.
Andria Cardarelle’s Dark Tryst is next, and it’s very much in the same vein as her Ravenloft full-length novel To Sleep with Evil. Silly girl gets seduced by creepy Vistani, and woosh, there is a price to pay! This one is noteworthy for being the closest a story in this line could ever be to erotic horror—which is to say, it’s sexy but not too sexy—but so many things remain unanswered to the point that this one seems more like a short excerpt from a longer novel or an excuse for the author to write about sex with creepy Vistani.
Finally, the much-hyped “Brand new Strahd story!” by PN Elrod has arrived. I’m sure you can tell how excited I am, because I am clearly Strahd’s biggest fan. Caretaker sees Strahd deciding to play a prank of sorts as he rids his land of some unwanted troublemakers. Yes, yes, Strahd is the land, Strahd is the best… gag me with a stake already. This one just sees our overrated dwerp going all smug and what not, as if I hadn’t read about him getting arse-whipped by humans and halflings and cowering from Lord Soth. This fellow makes the Count from Sesame Street look like a genius.
With that, Tales from Ravenloft is done. It’s a mixed bag, just like most anthologies. Still, regardless of the quality, each story manages to present an interesting glimpse into the various facets of that setting. It’s been a good ride, all things considered.
