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Orphan's Quest by Pat Nelson Childs
Our story opens with a sinister prologue: twelve men in black robes stand in a subterranean chamber. Torchlight throws smoky light upon the open sarcophagus in their midst. Within it rests an ancient skeleton missing femur and skull.
As their High Lord enters the room with the femur, the men stomp their feet and chant: (page 13), "Kratu hah manna! Kratu hah manna! Kratu hah manna!" The High Lord brings the femur around for each man to kiss, and then places it on the skeleton. The scene ends with the blood sacrifice of a ten year-old boy.
Such a prologue has become de rigueur in quest fantasy fiction, and it sets the conflict here. So you know what's working behind the scenes, you start with this glimpse of a secret society of evil-doers practicing necromancy to restore their fallen leader.
Of course, a beginning like this must lead into a pastoral scene to show you the hero in his innocence before he heeds the call to adventure. Our story obliges with a shift to the Brotherhood of the Noble Contemplative, a monastery that trains orphan boys to fill a variety of careers within the mythical land of Firma.
Seventeen year-old Rokey and his roommate Ely awake at dawn. As they experience a typical day of academics, sword practice, and preparation for that night's much-anticipated festival, we learn that Rokey's origins are shrouded in mystery.
Not that he thinks much about the past. Rokey has just figured out that he's a "samer" who is attracted to boys instead of girls. As Ely points out, this is not a problem at the Noble Contemplative. Several of the Brothers are samers and no one cares. Ely himself is glad to have less competition for the local ladies. But Rokey feels self-conscious and wonders if he'll find someone to love.
But misfortune is about to descend and claim his full attention. When an accident claims the life of the elderly abbot, Rokey gets blamed and banished by the creepy new abbot. To us readers, the new abbot obviously has both the motive and means to murder his predecessor.
This leads to a plot problem that becomes apparent by the book's end: realistically, wouldn't he have just bumped off Rokey as well? Especially since our hero becomes increasingly important as the novel continues?
Rokey, however, is understandably too shocked to analyze the abbot's motives. Soon he finds himself trudging through the woods far beyond the monastery.
When brigands attack Rokey, a traveling band of four friends rescues him. Gruff mercenary Stamford leads the group. Beautiful singer Fia provides a motherly presence. Fierce giant Lorq has a big mushy heart for little critters. Getting the group into periodic trouble is trickster Flaskamper, a pointy-eared elf prince exiled from the forests of Elfwood.
As they travel, the friends regale Rokey with their back-stories in the style of The Canterbury Tales, revealing that they are a family united in their shared status as outcasts from society. To the approval of all, Flaskamper and Rokey become immediately smitten with each other.
But then they get attacked by a swarm of rat-men! Flaskamper conjures an orb of light with which to scare their foes. When he gets injured protecting Rokey, the friends whisk him to the nearest city where he can receive healing and Rokey can get his fortune told. Imagine their dismay when the best wizard in the city can tell them only that powerful magic shrouds Rokey's origins.
Apparently, great forces shape our hero's destiny. Furthermore, sinister portents indicate that the entire land of Firma may be heading for hard times. The friends decide to join Rokey's quest for his origins: Flaskamper for obvious reasons and Stamford for mysterious reasons. Lorq and Fia would just like to see the fickle and promiscuous Flaskamper settle down with a nice boy like Rokey.
The wizard tells them to take their questions to the oracle of Glimmermere, which lies at the opposite end of Firma. This forces them on a journey through terrain and situations familiar to fantasy readers: fending off sandstorms and flesh-eating beetles in the desert ruins (as in The Mummy and The Mummy Returns movies), enjoying the treetop hospitality of the elves, getting enslaved by a society of giant warrior lesbians, falling under the spell of fairies, and so on.
When they do reach the oracle, it fulfills another fantasy tradition and gives them exceedingly vague answers. This forces them to piece together most of Rokey's destiny themselves. Towards the book's end, a villain emerges to explain the rest. This informs the reader enough to allow him or her to continue to the second book in Rokey's soon-to-be trilogy.
Here at ObsidianBookshelf.com, I started out enjoying Orphan's Quest, but my interest waned as the book went on. This is not exactly because the book is derivative – which it is, recreating the same sorts of characters and adventures featured in many fantasy novels such as the Shannara series by Terry Brooks or the Belgariad by David Eddings. My problem centers on the feeling that nothing is real. The characters and the world of Firma itself have a cardboard cut-out feel as if they are stage-sets that fall down after our two leads have moved on.
The people and world of Firma remain frustratingly vague because they lack intricacy and detailed development. Their edge is further blurred by the writing itself which tends towards the easy, timeworn phrase: the friends are "on pins and needles" as they watch Flaskamper's archery competition, and they "oohed and ahhed with appreciation" when viewing the weapons of the boatmen on the Grand Lake. Because of both the shallowness of the world-building and the clichéd writing, Orphan's Quest tends to read like fan-fiction.
The strength of Orphan's Quest lies in the endearing love affair between Rokey and Flaskamper. They become lovers but the book wisely avoids sexual details in order to focus on their romance. It tells a story in which no one could possibly care less if someone is a "samer." For young fantasy readers who are gay, this is good to hear.
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