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Amden Bog: A Novel in Stories

by David Rose

Loner, bumpkin, self-destructive teenager, Matina thought her life’s adventures would reach no further than paddling under night cypress or falling through the parchment of a good book. But she owns a great secret, one coming with her approaching womanhood like the mouths of gnashing teeth.

Boraor Rehton, the inept shaman, would love nothing more than to leave this wretched town, continuously appointing him their spiritual leader. He knows little about the earthly arts, but the same cannot be said for black magic; tools he uses, which, if caught, would earn him a place on Amden’s impaling stakes.

Add Pauthor Quithot, recluse, Grubilius Motty, lowlife drunkard, and other malcontents all involved with a mysterious force let loose upon the bog. As the force’s mystery wanes, old feuds are inflamed, murder is ready to run rampant, and the threshold separating the living from the dead is hopped over with wicked glee.

The second book to expose the grim world of Mulgara: Alluring, unpredictable, dripping with idiosyncratic folk, AMDEN BOG is dark fantasy where beauty and brutality often hang from the same sagging vine.

Published:
Publisher: Not Currently Available
Genres:
Tags:
Tropes: Antihero, Becoming a Monster, Burial Ground/Cemetary, Dark Enemy, Death by Sex, Magical Disaster, Reluctant Hero, Vengeful Spirit


Setting: Mulgara (secondary world), Amden Bog, a small medieval town in the middle of a vast swamp.

Languages Available: English

Excerpt:

Two long years. Two long years passed after a Gorsuka had been killed during the Party of the Rains, and two long years passed before Ledgor stepped foot in Amden again. Upon his priestess Niesuri's death, her father -- that political rot-grub -- exhausted the town treasury, employing able-backed thugs who turned over every canoe and skewered every soggy bale.

Ledgor's beloved Order had quickly dwindled to nothing when Commissioner Qell discovered the "cult paraphernalia" in Priestess Niesuri's chambers, after discovering the blood and hair and gore in that Matina girl's hut the night prior. Impaled on stakes, only one of the six was a member of the Order, but even one gave Qell's thugs enough information to scatter them to the winds.

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Like that Matina bitch, Ledgor had only one name. This was just fine by him. It would be easier for them to remember. It would soon be hissed and spoke in trembling whispers by the swamp's fetid denizens for decades to come, until the river finally swallowed them and shat them out into the indifference of the sea.

 

 - from A Cultist's Return, pages 71-72.

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About the Author

David Rose is a former Recon Marine and philosophy grad of the London School of Economics. A zealot of the weird, Rose's dark fantasy includes Amden Bog, The Scrolls of Sin, essays in S.T. Joshi's Penumbra journal, and most recently Lovecraft's Iraq - an action-packed novella showcasing Rose's time overseas and too many nights reading dear Howard's canon. He lives in Orlando, Florida. Rose is an active HWA and SFWA member, and a bit of a scholar on ghouls.