[Comments] January In-Character Book Reviews 2023

[lostcheerio]

Let's Pretend This month, let's give our game characters a say. If your favorite RPG PC (or your least favorite NPC!) got to choose books from your local Earth library, what would they check out? What books would they love? What would make them spitting mad? Let the paladin take the podium. Let the druid dish the dirt. Give us an in-character book review of a real or unreal book. The New Year Celebration at Falcon's is raging on until January 22, and you are invited to stay til dawn! The Library at Falcon's is where we will host this in-character book club, so please come on over to this thread and join the fun. Step into the library at Falcon's Hunting Lodge.

[Ildrahil]

The Silmarillion & The Fall Of Gondolin by JRR Tolkien
reviewed by Vardariannanur ar-Tampion

Darian Recommends 'Twould be the Silmarillion that first I lay my hands on. And secondly espy the Fall of Gondolin would I. I ken that city and kingdom is the greatest triumph of the Elves of olde, and the greatest tragedy. For next to the hunt and ridding this world of the evils left from the elder days, the histories of olde is my love. And heard have I that a great professor indeed did relate these tales, near as if he was there. 'Tis told a Lúthien of his own he had, his name is Tolkien and his Lúthien was named Edith I am told. Many a story has my mother spun of her days along the marbled streets of fair Gondolin and the sweet sounds of music therein. Her tales of her father Ecthelion, my grandsire, thrilled me as a young Elven lad. She was but a young Elven lass when the traitor Maeglin betrayed that fair city. No greater treachery has ever befallen Elf or man since. 'Twould be well indeed if by reading the historical works of the esteemed Professor more could I learn of these times. The story she relayed most was of her father's exploits during the the Battle for Gondolin, which here I shall relate. Aye, 'twas a place of much merriment, joy, and love, so the stories go. But there was also also deceit and mayhap the most heinous treachery ever did an Elf to other Elves. 'Twas the home of my grandsire, my mother's father and the stories I pass came from her lips, as she was a witness though young indeed was she for an Elven maiden. And 'twas her age saved her, for ere the great battle at the Fountain of the King my Grandame passed her off to others to usher out of a hidden passage wrought by Princess Idril, High King Turgon's daughter. But tarry she did as she left and all she saw she'd tell us as stories. But this is not a story of my Grandsire alone, but also of love, and betrayal, and war. There in the Elder days ere most of my kind fled or locked themselves away stood Gondolin fair. The most beauteous city of Elves this side of the undying lands. And in those days a man came strong of character who hailed from a House of heroes among men. A great evil was alive in the world and Elves and men had an alliance against Him. And yet near a god was He Who Won't be Named, so the Elves and their allies were losing this war. The last stronghold of the forces of good was the hidden city of Gondolin. And when this man arrived, he was met by my Grandsire, Ecthelion of the Fountain, whose task it was to keep intruders away, but such was this man's bearing and the tokens he brought that straightaway Lord Ecthelion brought him to see Turgon, High King of the Noldor. This man's name name was Tuor. Now Tuor brought a message from the Power of the Seas with warning that 'twas time for the Gondolindrim to leave fair Gondolin and to King Turgon he brought that message. Long did King Turgon think on this, but evil and jealous counsel whispered in his ears to stay, and such was his decision. Much sorrow would have been averted had he chosen the wiser course. Still, great respect the King showed to Tuor and such was Tuor's character that he attracted others and he established a House in Gondolin, his the 12th and last. The House of the White Wing. And my Grandsire was lord of the House of the Fountain. And a love there grew between Tuor and Princess Idril, the King's daughter. Anon, they were wed and there was much joy in Gondolin, for it was a well made match all thought. All, save one. Maeglin, the King's nephew was secretly in love with Idril and was jealous of the attention Tuor received from the King and twice so when he wed Idril. But Idril knew of Maeglin's feelings and spurned them, for the feelings Meaglin felt for Idril were improper between relatives so close in degree. As happens, a son was born to the couple and Eärendil was his name. The city rejoiced and none so much as the King, for he thought this confirmed his choice to stay and defy the Great Enemy. But Idril, farsighted as she was, felt things were not as they seemed, and well that was, for she was right. And so a secret tunnel she had excavated, a way of escape if the need ever were to arise for the Gondolindrim to take if peril approached. And things were already stirring to show how wrong King Turgon's choice was. For at a time, Maeglin was out searching for ores, against the King's commands. Captured he was and brought in front of the Great Enemy and under threat of torture broke rahter than choose death and told the Enemy of Gondolin's whereabouts. And glee there became in Maeglin's evil heart, for the Enemy promised him overlordship of Gondolin and Idril's hand if Maeglin would but aid in the capture of the city. And so Meaglin returned and feigned love for all, whilst plotting the downfall and death of most. And for years he lived amongst them feigning love whilst the Enemy marshalled his forces and prepared for the assault. And on the given day, it began. Hard pressed was the fair city of Gondolin, ringed on all sides by evil servants of the Enemy in the thousands upon tens of thousands. Besieged from without and betrayed from within. Flew, they did, along the wide cobblestone streets towards their House, as the sound of battle sounded all about. There they found Maeglin, traitor and instrument of the Enemy, may his name and memory ever be accursed. He and his House of the Mole had abducted Princess Idril the far sighted, daughter of High King Turgon and threatened even the lad Eärendil with death. The heat from the wrath in Lord Tuor’s eyes was nigh impossible to miss. They attacked the warriors of the Mole and in their fury and that of their Lord swept them away. As they drew near Maeglin he threatened Eärendil with dagger sharp. The young prince came from goodly stock though and a fighter was he. He bit hard on Maeglin’s hand and this caused Maeglin a start and drop the lad did he. Then Lord Tuor was upon him and heft him up did Lord Tuor and oer the walls Maeglin went, and thus swept from the rolls of the Noldoli was his name. Still many were the warriors of the Mole and at Lord Tuor they came, yet none could stand against his axe and the swords of the House of the White Wing, and swept away were they. And now Lord Tuor set a watch on his Lady and young Eärendil and bid them lead what people they could into the city for safe keeping. He, with the rest of his folk did hie to the North Gate. And all around the wind whispered through the buildings, save our fair city, or avenge her. And soon they came upon a great battle extant. Lo, Lord Ecthelion and his House of the Fountain were harrying the enemy greatly and pushing towards the North Gate, recapture their intent. But the numbers against them were vast and slowing was their advance. Just then Lord Tuor signaled the charge and into the fracas they joined, aside their cousins of the Fountain. “To the Gate, to the Gate” they shouted, and near to it they came, but just then fresh companies of Orcs came, each led by a Balrog. Ere that, my Grandsires House of the Fountain marched towards the great North Gate to the sound of flutes, none so fair as that which Lord Ecthelion himself did play. From the south of fair Gondolin they marched, along her wide streets paved of stone and Kurbed of marble. Royal Houses fair passed by and even those of common were sweet to behold. For Gondolin was a beauteous city of grace and splendor then at her prime. As they drew closer the sound of battle and slaughter grew louder, and the smell of it. Lord Rog and his House had already perished in defense of Gondolin and the Gate was lost. So they marched. Then, when just in sight of the Enemy's vast army, the music stopped and my Grandsire commanded the drawing of swords. So fearful was Lord Ecthelion’s voice that day while commanding the drawing of swords and the killings which followed, that his name became a terror among the enemy and a war cry to the Noldor. Bright and long were their swords, eager for battle, glistening in the sun’s rays. They fought that day and drove the enemy afore them. Footfall by footfall they moved toward the Gate. Push with shield, kill those hideous minions of Morgoth, step over their dead bodies, then push again. Over and again for an interminable time. As the front ranks tired those in the rear moved up. I know not how many they killed of the fell creatures against them arrayed, yet 'tis said they did kill more than in all the wars and battles against the Enemy up to then and combined. Fierce they were and yet numbers will eventually tell, and slow their advance did. Then to their amaze Lord Tuor and the mighty warriors of his House arrived and with them a new vigor gripped them and they advanced. Nearly to the Gate had their advance taken them but just at then new foes arrived. The giant fire drakes breathing flames and death and Balrogs leading companies afresh with reinforcements, all led by Gothmog. Lord Ecthelion did slay two of those fearsome beasts while by the score they killed the orcs in accompaniment. They could nearly touch the gate, then a step back did they take, and another. ‘Twas then that Lord Ecthelion slew his third Balrog, and yet himself was fell wounded by the beast. His shield fell, and another step back they went. Still, Lord Tuor and his House stood next to us, all the way back to the Fountain of the King were we pushed, step by agonizing step. Lord Ecthelion leaning on Lord Tuor for support, his grievous wound bleeding. Then Gothmog strode forth and Lord Tuor interposed himself between that Captain of Angband and Lord Ecthelion while he refreshed himself from the Fountain. Swept away by Gothmog’s fearsome ebon axe was Lord Tuor. All round them battle was had and the lesser beasts surged. Then did Lord Ecthelion, envigored from his quaff of the Fountain’s nectar, jump between Gothmog and Lord Tuor. Blow after blow they traded, once, twice, thrice. My Grandsire called to his friend, Lord Tuor, “Fly” said he, “find yours and save what ye can of the Gondolindrim. Lay a kiss on Eärendil for me and bid him think of me when the sound of flutes he hears.” And in sorrow did Lord Tuor depart with those of his House, and those of the House of the Fountain knew ‘twould be their last day, that they were the rear guard and hold they must to give the rest time. 'Twas then my Granddame gave my mother to Lord Tuor and bid him keep her well, then turned did she and into the fray she went, sword in hand. And in my mother's hands were two swords of our House, newly made for an Elven lord but not yet tested. Nearly bigger than her were they, and yet she was an Elf, a daughter of two who lived in the light of the Two Trees. A strength of character she had, and still has, that flowed through her veins. Save those swords did she, and I wear them now this day. Anon, Lord Ecthelion, wounded as he were, lost his sword. And Gothmog did delight and roar. His breath was hot from the infernal fires that sustained him. And they of the House of the Fountain wavered then, to their eternal shame. For they saw my Grandsire fall. But Lord Ecthelion wavered not. No, even taller than the tallest of them did he rise and charged Gothmog. With the diamond tipped spike of his helm he pierced that beast near where his heart would be if one did beat in his chest. And then Lord Ecthelion grappled the beast and he tipped Gothmog into the King’s Fountain and a gout of steam erupted and the water was aboil. There did perish Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, his inner fire quenched and with him went their fair Lord Ecthelion, my Grandsire. Four Balrogs would he kill that day. Aroused from their stupor, shame still afresh on their cheeks they yelled, Ecthelion, and at that the forces of the Enemy did quake. And they charged their hated foes. Adrip with their blood and gore were they. A century of orcs I swear each killed at the Fountain. Ecthelion, again they yelled. Each time brought fear in the enemy. But the enemy were so many, and as the enemy's numbers grew the the number of our House diminished. And then the drakes appeared. Ecthelion they yelled one time more, yet ‘twas not now so loud as few of them there were remained, and into the roiling mass of fell creatures they flung themselves. And so ended Lord Ecthelion and the House of the Fountain.

About the reviewer: Vardariannanur ar-Tampion (Gloom Stalker Ranger) Darian, as he is known to his friends, is the grandson of Ecthelion of the Fountain, Lord of the House of the Fountain of Gondolin. He resides in the world of Reluctant Heroes, an alternate Earth where the Ages of Tolkien and Howard preceded our Earth history. He is very proud of his Noldorin and Sindarin heritage, but he also understands the hurt the Noldor inflicted, both intentionally and by happenstance, and he hopes to heal those wounds and bring the races together again.


About the story: The story is original to yours truly, but it is inspired by and true to the events of the Silmarillion and Fall of Gondolin as written by JRR Tolkien.

[lostcheerio]

Bingle Wildwanderer, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock "I rise in support of Valley of the Horses by Dr. Jean M. Auel. This is a science document about what happens when a female wearing insufficient clothing leaves her village and joins a village of big-headed people who live in caves. And what happens is a lot of personal behavior." Bingle presses her lips together, and looks around the library dangerously. She takes a stiff drink from a small mug of hot chocolate, wipes her mouth on a napkin. "You should know it is personal behavior of a reproductive nature. This is why it's so important for this book to be read, and why I myself have read it six or seven times. To understand the dangers. To always wear layers. To cover your boosb with sewaters." "Ayla is a woman with a normal sized head, who wears almost no clothes, and when she joins a tribe of large-headed people, they teach her how to talk, and adopt her, but her head never gets any bigger, and she never sees a button. And she has an animal companion. Later she goes to a valley and becomes amazing at everything, and experiences throes with Jondalar." She holds up a dog-eared paperback copy. The wreaths twinkle. There is a scent of pine. "I got this book of Jelbi Gimble who is passing it around school; if you want it ask her. Our teacher said it is filth and vile. But from this book you can learn to knap flint. You can read about history and the landscape. Drawing on intense research from at least one popular work of prehistorical archaeology, Dr. Auel provides an fact-based projection on the nature of what would evolve into the human mind, and also lets us know how some men have an aching hunger that women long to fill." Bingle lays the book down firmly on the podium. "Look, it is just science and real. And if you want to know where the most science parts are, I've knocked down the corner of the page on each most instructional episode."

[bothers]

Durza Dera, Half-orc Bard (College of Valor) Artist credit: Dotswap Thisun's called "Girl Meets Boy", but that's not what it's really about. It was written by an orc lady called Ali Smith, and it's really a story about a story. Bard stuff, you know? There's no pictures in it so it weren't all that easy for me, so I got Dergu to read it to me over a few evenin's. So it's basically a story 'bout a girl who falls in love with a boy, only he's not a boy, he's a girl. But he goes around callin' herself by this name that's the name of a boy that used to be a girl who was in love with another girl. It's a love story. It's got a happy ending. There's a bit in it when the two of 'em get together that made Dergu go red when he read it out, so I pretended like I hadn't heard some of it and made him read it again. Don't let on, yeah? Anyway, the story that's in the story is the story of the other one, the boy who was a girl. He gets turned into a boy 'cos she's in love with this other girl, and it's, like a bad thing? I don't get it, but the gods turn her into a boy so he can get married to this other girl, and the girl in the book, the one who the story that this story is in is about, she's like, but why's she gotta be a boy? And the other one, the boy who's actually a girl, she says it's because the guy who wrote the story, the other story, not the one Dergu read to me, she says that guy couldn't help fixatin' on what girls haven't got under their togas, so he couldn't imagine how these two girls could get married an' that like normal people. He had to make one of 'em different 'cos it just didn't work for him without it. I still didn't understand what the problem was, so I asked Lithienne about it and she says the guy who wrote the first story was some old dead weed who didn't really get it, not the way we do, you know? "Of his time", Lithienne said. I quoted some of the stuff to her that Dergu was embarrassed about and she went all red too, but in a different way to Dergu. Then she read me the old story, that the weedy old dead bloke had written. It was alright, but I prefer the orc lady's version where the two of 'em get to be together without either of 'em feeling like they gotta go changin' who they are first. "Imagination doesn't have a gender", that girl-boy character in the orc lady's story says. I like that.

[lostcheerio]

Hi friends,

We've been doing this for an ACTUAL YEAR! I want to suggest something, as we look forward to year 2 of this iteration of RPGX Book Club. What if we did exactly that all over again? Let's repeat the months thematically or genre-wise or categorically... see what I mean?

Here's what we read:
Feb 2022: The Monkey King. So, this February could be another book in translation.
Mar 2022: Appendix N. So, this March could be another collection of short fiction or poetry.
Apr 2022: The Matrix by Lauren Groff. How do we categorize this? Historical fiction? Fiction that came out in the last year?
May 2022: Vonda McIntyre month. So this year we could choose another female author.
June/July 2022: Spear by Nicola Griffith. A contemporary retelling of a classic tale?
August 2022: The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler. Is this post-apocalyptic month?
Sept 2022: The Lord of the Rings. A very often-read book-to-movie choice?
Oct 2022: H.P. Lovecraft month. Do we pick spooky for this month? Or do another choice-by-an-author?
Nov 2022: The Blazing World by Margaret Cavendish. Pick something super old and weird that no one will actually read month? Heh, jk. But... suggestions needed.
Dec 2022: Year in review -- we can just repeat.
Jan 2023: In Character Book reviews -- we can just repeat.

Thoughts?

[Fillyjonk]

I like the cycle. Here is my input on how I would tweak it.

FEB: Book in translation (love)
MARCH: COLLECTION of short stories or poetry
APRIL: I prefer CAME OUT IN THE LAST YEAR to historical.
MAY: Love the idea of choosing at author with a body of work and we can read any book or even a story by the author. I don’t; want to make this female specifically, but I do want to think in larger terms about making sure we are reading diverse voices.
JUNE JULY: love retellings as the idea for summer
AUGUST: Maybe FUTURE instead of post apocalypse? Just to broaden it to sci fi and more cheery futures, too?
SEPT: Yeah book to movie or show is GREAT as we can also watch LOVE
OCT: I like spooky for October. Longest night etc, All Hallows’ eve. Yes lets do horror
NOV: I like the idea of a challenging book here—-maybe this is CLASSIC month. We read a book that is over X years old that has stood the test of time. A foil to the NEW THIS YEAR month
Dec: Year in Review, yes, love.
JAN: BOOK REVIEWS IN CHARACTER. LOVE THIS SO MUCH it charmed the hell out of me at falcons.

Originally Posted by lostcheerio

Here's what we read:
Feb 2022: The Monkey King. So, this February could be another book in translation.
Mar 2022: Appendix N. So, this March could be another collection of short fiction or poetry.
Apr 2022: The Matrix by Lauren Groff. How do we categorize this? Historical fiction? Fiction that came out in the last year?
May 2022: Vonda McIntyre month. So this year we could choose another female author.
June/July 2022: Spear by Nicola Griffith. A contemporary retelling of a classic tale?
August 2022: The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler. Is this post-apocalyptic month?
Sept 2022: The Lord of the Rings. A very often-read book-to-movie choice?
Oct 2022: H.P. Lovecraft month. Do we pick spooky for this month? Or do another choice-by-an-author?
Nov 2022: The Blazing World by Margaret Cavendish. Pick something super old and weird that no one will actually read month? Heh, jk. But... suggestions needed.
Dec 2022: Year in review -- we can just repeat.
Jan 2023: In Character Book reviews -- we can just repeat.

Thoughts?

[lostcheerio]

FEB: Mythology:
MARCH: Collection:
APRIL: New This Year:
MAY: Author's Body of Work:
JUNE JULY: Retelling:
AUGUST: Future:
SEPT: Book to Screen:
OCT: Spooky Author:
NOV: Over 100 Years Old:
Dec: December Remember
JAN: IC Book Reviews

[Ildrahil]

Originally Posted by lostcheerio

FEB: Mythology:
MARCH: Collection:
APRIL: New This Year:
MAY: Author's Body of Work:
JUNE JULY: Retelling:
AUGUST: Future:
SEPT: Book to Screen:
OCT: Spooky Author:
NOV: Over 100 Years Old:
Dec: December Remember
JAN: IC Book Reviews

Yes, I love this. Perfect!

[lostcheerio]

February is going to be Boy Meets Girl, a reimagining of Ovid's Metamorphoses.