Murder in Cormyr Book

“How could you tell he was dead?” Lindavar asked.
“Well, sor, with his head over here and the rest of him over there, it didn’t look promisin’ for him.”

Lately, I’ve been jonesing for some old school Dungeons & Dragons material and, to help scratch that itch, I picked up Chet Williamson’s Murder in Cormyr (along with a few other Forgotten Realms novels) in a second-hand shop. During its heyday, D&D paperbacks fairly dominated the fantasy book market, allowing parent company TSR to stretch its sword-and-sorcery mainstays into other genres, such as horror and sci-fi. Murder in Cormyr is the first book in a didn’t-really-catch-the-world-on-fire expansion into the mystery genre, ostensibly blending the traditional whodunit? with the world of wizards, trolls and elves.

It’s an uneasy mix – because putting magic on the table pretty much spoils the traditional mystery-book formula. D&D wizards and priests can presumably prestidigitate spells like “detect lie” or “speak with the dead” – making the questioning of suspects – both living and dead -- a fairly easy task. But author Williamson rather deftly maneuvers around these genre-mashing snares by focusing on a predominately human enclave with a just few retired wizards, who have largely eschewed their magical prowess.

Emphasizing “cogitation” over “conjuration,” Williamson offers a likeable little mystery with a cast of characters that is surprisingly well-rounded and complex. The mystery itself is a bit by-the-numbers, as the lead character, Jasper, interviews witnesses, tabulates possible suspects, and gathers clues about a purported ghost that may be linked to a series of murders. Williamson himself is the real strength here; the author’s sharp prose, clever characterization, witty dialogue, and dry wit keep the story moving and engaging. There are some genuinely laugh out loud moments, and this is one of those places where the strength of author’s craft compensates a whole lot for the plot (which, with its fake ghost, couldn’t help but remind me of a Scooby Doo episode with swords).

So ... despite the strength of the writer, this book doesn’t really rise above what you’d expect for a work-for-hire type property. The ending doesn’t really seal the deal, and it feels like some greater twist (or payoff) got missed. There are also a couple of significant loose ends – from Jasper’s notes about the bar wench Sunfirth to the decidedly sinister undertones that seem to color the departure of the adventuress Kendra – but nothing really comes of these points. Likewise, there’s some odd grafting of D&D monsters into the tale -- such as a hydra -- that feel like they should be significant, but ultimately aren’t. Maybe someone at TSR just insisted that Williamson squeeze a few more of their licensed critters into the pages.

That said, Murder in Cormyr wasn’t bad, but its appeal is probably limited to the hardcore D&D aficionado. It did, however, whet my appetite for more Chet Williamson.

P.S. … which brings me to one of those really odd moments of cosmic syzygy that gives you the feeling that just maybe there is plan for everything that happens in the universe. As I started writing this review, I was also catching up on a few of my favorite podcasts. As I'm writing, the amazingly good (and funny) Night of the Living Podcast has an interview with none other than … CHET WILLIAMSON! What in the world are the odds??? Weirdly, Williamson’s D&D books do get (briefly) discussed, but more importantly, is Williamson’s upcoming book Psycho: Sanitarium, an authorized sequel to Robert Bloch’s original horror masterpiece. The interview is worth a listen, and if I don’t get to any other of Williamson’s past works this year, I’ll be putting his new novel on my 2016 reading list!