Carter died of advanced throat cancer in Writing on his own, Carter was best known as an author that was best at the creation of heroic fantasy in the pastiche format, for which he was among the best of revivifiers, anthologists, and critics. Similar to his other series, the Thongor novels are a brilliant walk through fantasy protocols that are to be found in the classics that he so loved. The Thongor novels and his other succeeding novels similar to those of Edgar Rice Burroughs may be classified as Planetary Romances set in a florid world, even if they lack a particular science fiction tone.
The man is in a fight with his captain which results in him being thrown into the dungeon underneath the castle. Northerner to the very end, he is not one to waste time thinking of things he cannot change and accepts his fate. But then comes along an old colleague and friend who helps him escape from his prison and certain death. However, his time in the dungeon has dulled his senses and he crashes his odd machine into the trackless jungle. What he had believed was the end of the road for him becomes a turning point as he is found and rescued by Sharajsha the Wizard of Lemuria.
The wizard had been looking for someone to help him fight off the evil Dragon Kings and he believes Thongor fits the bill. The Dragon Kings are on a quest to take back the planet from the current rulers, having lost it when they grew too complacent. Sharajsha will do anything to stop them. Thongor gets into trouble when his craft is struck by lightning in the worst of places — over a dangerous sea with a hungry sea monster. The monster is now on the trail of the craft hoping for it to fall out of the sky so that it can devour its passengers.
All Thongor can do is struggle to keep the ship steady and make it across the black seas below him. Working feverishly, they manage to navigate the worst scare of their lives and crash-land the craft in a forest where they hope to find relief. But all Thongor finds is a ravenous tiger that he manages to run off and an ape-man. Meanwhile, his companions grow impatient and set out to find him, only to walk into a carnivorous plant trap which traps them for hours until they are rescued by kindly forest ape men. Thongor eventually makes his way into a hidden and long forgotten city under the rule of an evil scientist who holds him prisoner.
It is an interesting narrative full of cliffhangers, narrow escapes and bizarre science from the first page to the last. If you see one missing just send me an e-mail below. Book s. The guy is a master! More Details. View Results. Lin Carter Books In Order. This was the last straw, certainly!
If thirty-foot metallic monstrosities were going to be banging into their mountains from now on, surely it was tune to decamp for the comfort and relative security of the lowlands!
Vetrar Guardian of the World’s End :: Fallen Enchantress: Legendary Heroes General Discussions
Packing theh" supplies of edibles, and rounding up the young ones, the heartily offended crustaceans began to migrate in unison, crawling down the slopes of the Vanishing Mountains and paying no further mind to the vacant-eyed Bazonga as she drifted lifelessly on the wind. Promptly at the hour of Moonrise, one of the hard-faced monitors threw down his yarmak, plucked out a bit of chalk from a pocket in his kilt, and began to scrawl something on the wall.
Peering interestedly through the bars, the Illusionist could just make out the graffiti. His commentary on the rulership of Chx completed, the monitor slunk down the hall to see if he couldn't rob the off-duty' guards, asleep in the barracks. Grinning to himself, the Illusionist rose to his feet, yawned and stretched lazily, and hurled a minor enchantment at the door of his cell, whose strong metal bars promptly turned to rubber.
Stepping out into the corridor, the Illusionist began searching about for his friends. Xarda he discovered, pacing her cell irritably. The girl knight of Jemmerdy was much relieved when the robed and mist-masked magister popped into sight, and even more relieved when the bars of the cell-door wilted like yesterday's asparagus.
Ganelon they could not find at all, but Prince Eri45 46 Lin Carter gon, still locked in the subterranean dungeon, was easily found and freed. Using the Third Eye of occult vision, which functions only on the next highest plane of the Plenum, which is called the Astral, it was simple for the old magician to locate the cells of his companions.
Auric spectra are clearly visible on the Astral level, and stone walls happen to be invisible on that plane. The dear boy possesses remarkable strength, and the Time Gods outfitted him with more than a few extraordinary powers which are seldom the possession of ordinary humans. Most of these super-abilities remain mere potentials, as yet, but under stress or duress, there is simply no guessing what the Great Lump might not be able to do.
Just go of! The magician shrugged helplessly. Once we are free, and have found a place of relative safety, I should be able to ascertain the lad's whereabouts by means of sortilege or divination. Come, then; let us be off. Then, hefting the huge length of the Silver Sword, she said, miserably: "I suppose you are right. At any rate, we have found his magic weapon for him From their soiled and disarranged tabards, it was obvious that the quarrelsome rabble, during the daylight hours, doubled as civic monitors.
Due to the regular night-time crime wave, everybody that should ordinarily have been on duty at the Administratium was off robbing stores, mugging passers-by, tying tin cans to the tails of domestic pets, or committing a malfeasance. The Illusionist, the knightrix, and Prince Erigon of Valardus found it quite easy to escape from the central edifice of the city, with a little help from one of the magician's invisibility spells. They returned to the Hospice of the Twelve Cardinal Virtues to find the taproom a seething mass of drunken, struggling men; eluding the several thieves, assassins, burglars and footpads who lurked in the shadows, they went around to the back.
They entered the courtyard where they had left their peculiar aerial vehicle, tethered by a mooring-line to one of the tall, flowering zooka-zooka trees. The tether was still there. So was the tree. But as for the Bazonga, it was obvious that the Bird had flown. Unfortunately, for once the Illusionist had no adequate reply to make.
Enchantress of World's End: The Gondwane Epic, Book 2 (Unabridged)
After a while, Ganelon was weary of sitting on the stone slab and stood up, looking around him. Turning to cast a glance behind him, he blinked with surprise to discover a gigantic range of mountains blocking the landscape to the south. He eyed the beetling ramparts with interest: considering they were made of stuff which was only half real, at best, they certainly looked solid and substantial to the untutored eye.
He was still admiring the mountains by moonlight when the Death Dwarves fell upon him. There were thirty-two of the little green devils, although of course he swiftly became too busy to bother with counting them. He had never before seen one of the odd little monsters up close, and was not particularly happy to discover they were every bit as ugly, as formidable, and as vicious as common rumor made them out to be. Their average height was somewhere between two-and-a-half and three feet, which meant that they hardly reached above Ganelon's kneecap. They were colored a vile, poisonous green, covered with lumps like warts only about the size of doorknobs.
Their tremendous breadth of shoulders and thick, massively-thewed arms and barrel chests reminded him of the Indigons he had battled on the Plains of Uth. Bald and hairless, with bullet heads, they had heavy prognathous jaws and long, lipless, gash-like mouths that made them look rather froggy. Froglike, too, were their ugly, goggling eyes which glistened in the moonlight like puddles of spilt ink.
They didn't wear any clothing to speak of, just odd bits, scraps and pieces of iron armor; but they bristled with weapons. Among these were flint-knives, stone axes, clubs roughly carven from petrified wood, and long spears made from slender stony stalactites, with obsidian blades for points.
They had no ears, and conversed amongst themselves in clicks, squeaks and hissings. They also had no genitals, just bare tough flesh between their crooked little bowlegs, which terminated hi ugly, four-toed feet. They emitted a vile medicinal stench, like iodine. The insides of their mouths were black. And they had fat white tongues, like plump worms. Now that they were discovered, this furtive slinking ended abruptly, and they hurled themselves at him with dizzying speed, bouncing across the slabs like so many rubber balls.
Ganelon growled and swung balled fists, batting them aside in mid-leap. He soon discovered that their broad-shouldered little bodies were hard as wood, the outer layers of their epidermis so tough as to be almost petrified. It proved remarkably difficult to hurt the squalling little monsters, but he found their skulls could be cracked open if you pounded their heads against the stone slabs enough times.
In quick succession he brained the first three or four who came within reach of his long arms. They withdrew, squeaking and hissing ominously amongst themselves, eyeing him venomously. Ganelon rested, breathing easily, wishing he had not left the Silver Sword behind him in the Scarlet City. But there was no use in crying over lost weapons. The next time they rushed him he bent, pried a mighty slab out of the crumbling soil and hurled it at them, squashing three or four of them flat as stepped-on toads.
Glancing skywards, he wished the Bazonga bird would come. His criss-cross harness of black leather broke or deflected most of the spear-points, and the few scratches he did suffer hurt him scarcely at all. He grabbed up the first couple of wriggling little monster-men and tried to see how far he could throw them.
Try as often as he could, the best he could do was about ten yards. A change of tactics was needed here, obviously. If he simply stood here and let the little horrors come at him, they might wear him down before he had managed to extinguish all of them. Anti-life, of which the Death Dwarves were a prominent species, were of necessity 50 Lin Carter remarkably difficult to kill, being not quite really alive in the first place.
He decided, after some thought, during which he managed to brain two more of the vile little creatures by hurling loose boulders at them, to make a sprint for the mountains. If he could get far enough above his pursuers, it should prove easy enough to drop big rocks on them, or perhaps trigger off an avalanche of respectable proportions. With Ganelon, to think was to act. Whirling about, he sprang in the direction of the Vanishing Mountains, with as much speed as he could, considering the broken nature of the landscape. With a hissing cry, the green horde poured after him, waddling and hopping along at his heels.
It was no use; they could move faster than he over the broken slabs of tilted stone.
In a few moments, a detachment of Dwarves had moved around in front of him, blocking him off. He took his stand, and fought. He was still doggedly knocking them about when they came upon him from behind, and beat him unconscious with stone clubs. Then, with many a spiteful kick in the ribs, the little green monsters trussed the unconscious Construct securely, and began dragging him off to their hidden lair. Within a few moments, save for the dead who lay scattered about, there was nothing on the plain of broken stones to show that a furious battle had been fought here—and had been lost.
Indeed, "comfortable" was hardly the mot juste: "luxurious" would be more like it.