Friday, March 24, 2023

Review: Sanctuary by Lynn Abbey

 A version of this article appeared in Knights of the Dinner Table #198 (April, 2013).


All the good things of the earth flow into our city because of its greatness…

(Pericles' Funeral Oration, Thucydides 2.38)

Pericles was speaking of Athens, one of the marvels of the ancient world, a city whose institutions have
come to us through the centuries and whose reputation may be tarnished but has never descended from greatness. It was literally a ‘city on a hill;’ the original great cosmopolis or ‘world city.’ Cities have long captured our imaginations, and usually there are two types. One is the great, shining city that was Athens, or if one looks at fictional cities, Superman’s Metropolis. But it is the other sort of city, the city into which all vile things flow that this novel explores, a city ironically named Sanctuary.

Lynn Abbey’s Sanctuary is a unique novel for many reasons. It is intended as a bridge between the original incarnation of Thieves’ World and its second life. Thieves’ World was the first ‘shared world’ setting, and it was primarily a fantasy short story anthology series edited by Robert Asprin and Lynn Abbey, though novels, board games, comics, and a truly excellent multi-system city RPG boxed set were also produced. Its influence on shared worlds, the fantasy genre, and roleplaying was significant, but it reached creative and sales exhaustion by the 1990s.  However, fans of the series never completely disappeared and Abbey was persuaded to resurrect it in 2002. 

Sanctuary is not your normal hero’s quest tale, though it a coming of age tale. It merges the tragic history of Sanctuary with the equally tragic back story of its protagonist, Cauvin. Cauvin is the adopted son of a mason, adopted following the flaming, bloody demise of the Hand of Dyareela cult. This cult, devoted to a hermaphroditic deity of chaos, disease, madness, and death (first introduced in the second anthology of the series, Tales from the Vulgar Unicorn in 1980), had gained control of the city in the years following the last anthology. The Hand prefers children as followers; it gathered orphans and raised them to be corrupt, mad, and cannibalistic. Cauvin was one of the very few sane survivors, saved by those who destroyed the cult because he displayed a spark of humanity. Still a child, he is adopted by a stone mason and becomes his servant/apprentice, and he settles into the humdrum life of a Sanctuary working man. Then he discovers on his daily business a decrepit, aged, and wounded Molin Torchholder. 

Torchholder appeared or was mentioned in more stories than any other character in the original series, often just a cameo or an off-screen threat, but always there, always involved. His choice as the bridge character was inspired, as was the idea that he would chose an heir to whom to pass his knowledge of the secrets and lore of the city. Cauvin, Molin, and Cauvin’s younger adopted brother, Bec, are forced to confront the demons and angels of the past while facing a new, yet familiar threat to the city.  

And the city is the real hero of the story. Cauvin is endearing and the reader will certainly root for him, but the soul of Thieves’ World has always been the city of Sanctuary itself, and Abbey manages to show its shifts and changes over time, its many physical alterations, while holding true to the Sanctuary's soul. The city is alive and real, it attracts pain, suffering, corruption, and despair yet the city itself is neither corrupt nor wicked but rather a tough survivor battered and bruised by tragic life and yet unbroken.  

In the past, when I've read this novel I've been very focused on the easter eggs and hints to the past, this time around I am trying very hard to focus instead on this novel as its own thing, with its own story to tell. For example, the Dyareelans make INCREDIBLE fantasy world villains, Sanctuary has never had a scarcity of evil and cruelty but the Dyareelans surpassed everything previously seen. - they make Roxanne look like a mildly difficult hedge witch of quite banal "evil" in comparison. Their focus on children as both victims and tools in their atrocities makes them feel very real and very abhorrent.

The Molin/Cauvin relationship with reminds me a little of Merlin and Nimue in Mary Stewart's The Last Enchantment (obviously without the romantic element). And Molin and Cauvin's relationship with Arizak and Raith remind of Merlin's relationship with Uther and Arthur. The idea of a younger heir taking over for a lamed great king is a common Arthurian motif, but stripping it from its Faerie and British environment and instead applying it to the succession crisis for a barbarian tribe ruling a conquered desert city is inspired. Or... I've just read far too much of Thieves' World and the matter of Britain both and I'm seeing things that aren't there. 😀


Gamemasters will find in Sanctuary a wonderful example for rebuilding or advancing old, stale campaigns. It is also an excellent example of city design, and the importance of forming a cohesive history for your settings. The Hand of Dyareela is a wonderful example for structuring an evil cult to oppose your players. For players, Cauvin, Bec, and Soldt all provide excellent character templates that can be altered and emulated to provide depth. Players running priests who wish to be something other than clerical healing dispensers will find Molin Torchholder inspirational as well.

Sanctuary was followed by two new short story anthologies, Turning Points (2002) and Enemies of Fortune (2004), each structured like the original Thieves’ World anthologies with a stable of writers from the old series as well as new comers.

I said earlier that Sanctuary is ironically named, yet it is aptly named as well. The city draws all that is vile to it, but also acts as a protector to it citizens, and for readers the city is a sanctuary as well, you will truly enjoy your time in Thieves’ World. So check your purse, loosen your sword, and give the city another chance. 

All views in this blog are my own and represent the views of no other person, organization, or institution.