Black Library
A reprint of Drachenfels is a part of the opening for Games Workshop’s recently announced Warhammer
Horror line. Originally published in 1989, the book was one of the earliest
pieces of Warhammer fiction,
predating even Black Library. Written
by esteemed horror novelist Kim Newman under the penname Jack Yeovil, the book
told the tale of the titular “Great Enchanter” and the adventurers who slew
him. 25 years after their apparent victory, the traumatized survivors of that
quest gather for a play recounting their triumph. Unfortunately, Drachenfels'
dark powers are so great that they extend from beyond the grave...
While it has some issues, Drachenfels is in most respects the gold standard of Warhammer fiction. It has a fleshed out cast and a compelling
villain. That's coupled with a complete narrative arc, which includes a satisfying and
uncharacteristically upbeat ending. The novel fully explores Warhammer Fantasy’s setting, while
providing enough context to stand on its own. All in all, it's a competently crafted story. Drachenfels has a lot more intelligence
than you'd expect from licensed fiction, even if can be a little too obvious at times.
Many recommend Drachenfels
as an introduction to Warhammer
Fantasy’s setting and with good reason. The book fully realized the grimy world of
political intrigue, strange magic, and brutal carnage previously established in magazines,
army books, and RPG supplements. Drachenfels examines crucial concepts like
the gods, Imperial politics, Sigmar, mutation, and even the alien Slann’s hand
in shaping the Warhammer World. But most impressively, it puts all of it in a
grounded context that still does those concepts justice. Part of what
distinguished Warhammer Fantasy’s setting
from so many other tabletop games was how the world felt like one people
actually lived in.
In Drachenfels, dark magic and raging armies are never far behind. But the characters still struggle to raise families, pay rent, and battle terminal illnesses. Drachenfels brought the dichotomy between the unimaginable and the mundane to the forefront, even with its basic premise. A great battle or legendary hero isn’t what drives the plot. Instead, it’s about trying to stage a play worthy of a royal audience and the natural and unnatural difficulties that effort entails.
In Drachenfels, dark magic and raging armies are never far behind. But the characters still struggle to raise families, pay rent, and battle terminal illnesses. Drachenfels brought the dichotomy between the unimaginable and the mundane to the forefront, even with its basic premise. A great battle or legendary hero isn’t what drives the plot. Instead, it’s about trying to stage a play worthy of a royal audience and the natural and unnatural difficulties that effort entails.
Besides getting the mechanics of the setting down, Drachenfels conveyed the classic
Warhammer tone. There’s the grimness the property’s known for but it’s paired
off with the dark comedy that was previously so integral to the Warhammer properties. Newman manages to
effortlessly balance the two throughout the book, producing what’s easily he
funniest and most horrifying Warhammer novel. Drachenfels commits to establishing the circumstances and victims for the horror
segments. Those who meet gruesome ends are usually characterized to the point that they don't
just feel like chunks of meat. A real sense of tragedy underlines Drachenfels and it has some of the most
genuinely disturbing moments in any piece of Warhammer fiction. At the book’s best points, the writing manages
to be both horrific and hilarious.
One of Drachenfels few
flaws is that it gets a little lazy at points. Some of
the humor relies on unfortunate stereotypes and a good chunk of the horror
relies purely on shock value. The former mainly comes from being a book written
30 years ago and similarly distasteful stuff shows up in more recent fiction.
The latter is a very different issue. While it thankfully occurs off screen,
some truly horrible things happen to children throughout Drachenfels. There are some similarly questionable moments, like
the 600 year old Genevieve looking eternally 16. While that detail alone isn’t
an issue, it is when the character is very much on the sexualized end of the
vampire spectrum. It’s interesting to note Genevieve looks much older than
sixteen in all of the official art. Drachenfels
occasionally comes off as distasteful and it frequently overshadows the better parts of the book.
Drachenfels real
strength lies in its characters. Typically billed as a “Genevieve Novel,” Drachenfels introduced the Bretonnian
vampire. The book makes a point of defining what vampires actually are and the numerous variations they take. Unfortunately, that interpretation would be neglected going forward, in favor of something easier to
make a miniature out of. Genevieve is a fully rounded, complex character and a good
fit for the setting. Newman mainly uses her to explore the benefits and
disadvantages a mostly well-adjusted person would face after living for
centuries. The other female characters aren’t nearly as well done as Genevieve
and often fall victim to those aforementioned unfortunate stereotypes. But even
then, it’s important to note that Drachenfels
introduced a complex, female protagonist into an overwhelmingly masculine setting.
While Newman enjoyed Genevieve enough to use her in
his own books, she plays a relatively small role in Drachenfels. It's the tortured artist and boastful egotist Detlef Sierck that
drives most of the plot. The playwright is a nice change of pace from the usual
Warhammer protagonist, as he’s far
more concerned with his career in the arts than any battlefield. His vainglorious behavior is
offset by some genuine acts of kindness and in many ways he embodies the
complex tone of Drachenfels. The book
regularly changes perspective but it mostly falls between Genevieve and Detlef. Newman manages to present interesting
if not always fully developed characters, no matter how brief their time might be. Drachenfels somewhat makes up for it with its effective theme about
people failing to live up to the narratives imposed on them by others or even
themselves.
Drachenfels'
villain has an effective simplicity to him. Evil beyond description, Detlef at
one point suspects that nearly every horror cliché was inspired by the Great
Enchanter’s diabolical actions. While far from sympathetic, Drachenfels is a memorable villain, if nothing else. His grand plan does feel a
little contrived, though the entire plot gets a little too spontaneous during the climax. At what feels like the eleventh hour, Newman adds a surprising amount of depth to Drachenfels. Behind all the magic, schemes, and theatrics is a
man desperately clinging to life by whatever means necessary. Drachenfels might
be borderline cartoonish but Newman uses that absurdity to set up an
immensely satisfying and surprisingly meaningful fate for the villain and his
legacy.
While it has some notable problems, Drachenfels is still one of the best works ever published for a Warhammer property. From a technical standpoint, it’s far beyond nearly every other Warhammer book I’ve read (and that’s
quite a few). It effortlessly captures what made Warhammer Fantasy such a compelling setting through its atypical
story. However, the book is in an interesting position where it doesn’t feel
particularly dated, though that's offset by certain elements that might not sit well with a
modern audience. Even then, I hope this new reprint of Drachenfels indicates what Warhammer
Horror's original publications will be drawing inspiration from.
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