Epic fantasy is about to be worked over, in classic Richard Morgan style. When a man you know to be of sound mind tells you his recently deceased mother has just tried to climb in his bedroom window and eat him, you have two options. You can smell his breath and check his pulse, or you can believe him. Having tried the first course of action, Ringil Angeleyes put down his pint with an elaborate sigh and went to get his broadsword. And he's not the only one to be dragged from the serious business of drinking for something as mundane as the walking dead.
