![]() ![]() ‘Kids these days…they’re obsessed with mercenaries, Clay. But if I had to sum Kings of the Wyld in one sentence: They don’t make ‘em like this anymore. ![]() THE UGLY TRUTH: Good old-fashioned fantasy heroes, the loud, the proud, and never to be cowed, knocking back whiskies in a sticky-floored, dim-lit dive bar, moshing with every monster known to Dungeons & Dragons all whilst Terry Pratchett hosts a lock-in of Rock-n-f***ing-Roll tribute bands belting out ear melting hits better than the original act ever did on stage, because they’re doing it for the love of the music, and they love what they do. Though, and in favour of fairness, if I had to (nit) pick a downside to this cracking debut, it’d be elements of info dumping early on – but don’t let that stop you reading this story, as I’ll explain why it didn’t bother me below in the main review. THE BAD: It had to end? Seriously, I have one hell of a book hangover after this. ![]() THE GOOD: Larger-than-life heroes kicking ass and (re)taking their names as the greatest mercenary band to tour the Wyld more monsters than a Dungeons & Dragons careers’ fair a high stakes adventure of friends, fiends and f*** ups more heavy hitting battles than a greatest hits collection and a hall of fame page-turning performance to make the Bat Outta Hell sit back, buckle up, and hold on for the god-damned ride of its life. ![]()
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