The Blacktongue Thief

The novel’s opening chapters establish a distinct narrative framework through the first-person voice of Kinch Na Shannack, whose informal, digressive, and self-admittedly unreliable narration creates a detailed but not-entirely-accurate impression of the world of Manreach. Kinch’s tone is biased by his cynical outlook on the world, and because his commentary is replete with asides and direct addresses to the audience, the author creates the impression that the reader is accompanying Kinch on his dubious quest. Additionally, by presenting the world’s lore and social customs through Kinch’s biased perspective, the narrative subverts the objective voice that is common to epic fantasy, instead grounding the novel’s more fantastical elements in a grittier, grimier reality; these elements make themselves felt in everything from the entrenched cruelties of the Takers Guild to Kinch’s lingering fondness for “juvenile scatology” (57). As Kinch prides himself for his skill in “lie-weaving” (13), his status as a trickster and a rogue is immediately established, positioning his account as something to be scrutinized rather than taken at face value. His narration thus becomes a performance of identity: that of a clever survivor who uses language as both a tool and a shield.

As Kinch struggles to survive in this uncompromising setting, his initial misadventures introduce the novel’s focus on The Necessity of Moral Compromise in a Brutal World. For example, the failed highway robbery in the Forest of Orphans serves as an initial thesis on the calculus of violence and survival. Galva’s methodical disabling of the bandits—in which she maims them rather than killing them—exhibits her pragmatic code and indicates that she prioritizes tactical advantages over an abstract sense of honor. Although she is soon revealed to be a respected veteran of the goblin wars, her actions do not reflect those of a traditional “knight” of high fantasy, for in disabling the thieves, she acts efficiently and with very little mercy, and she shows no remorse and goes on her way. By contrast, Kinch’s subsequent decision to help his wounded companions—an act that his Guild training would condemn—reveals that he possesses a conflicted sense of morality that transcends institutional doctrine.

This complicated ethical landscape is further defined by the casual cruelties ingrained in society itself; a prime example occurs with the introduction of the “Guild-gift” slap of Kinch’s tattooed cheek: a ritualized, public humiliation of debtors that reinforces existing social hierarchies and shames those who do not live up to their responsibilities. With these and other incidental details, the author crafts a world that is not filled with clear-cut heroes and villains but is instead populated by complex, morally ambiguous individuals who must often survive by making difficult and ethically dubious choices. This mindset is further punctuated by the grim commentary of a war veteran who remarks that the threat of giants who “[look] down at you” (48), are far more deadly than the well-established ferocity of humankind’s traditional goblin foes. Beset by horrors on all sides, the humans who inhabit this brutal world must reckon with the grim reality that that the old forms of courage are insufficient to meet the new horrors from the land of the giants. In this way, even Buehlman’s incidental descriptions are designed to reinforce the novel’s belonging to the grimdark genre.

A primary strategy for navigating this dangerous world is The Strategic Concealment of Identity, and true to form, both Kinch and Galva withhold crucial information about their backgrounds. Kinch’s most profound secret is his ability as a Cipher, a rare gift for understanding any written language. Having once seen the restrictive lifestyle of a recognized Guild Cipher, he understands that revealing this talent would transform him from an independent agent into a captive asset for the Takers Guild or any other power to ruthlessly exploit. Thus, his secrecy in this matter is an act of self-preservation. Similarly, Galva conceals the crucial fact that her war corvid, Dalgatha, resides within a magical tattoo and can be manifested as a physical weapon.

In a broader sense, the author’s creation of magical tattoos as a motif of hidden power is central to this theme, for many of these tattoos serve as physical manifestations of concealed identity. While Galva’s sleeper tattoo is indicative of her violent, intense past as a veteran of the Daughters’ War, the most recent of the Goblin Wars, Kinch’s burden of the Debtor’s Hand marks his servitude to the Guild and condemns him to repeated moments of pain and humiliation in almost every tavern he enters. These chapters also offer a brief initial glimpse of a heavily tattooed Assassin-Adept (later revealed to be a key character in the novel), and it is implied that many of her abilities come from her tattoos as well. By keeping their most potent assets hidden, the novel’s characters demonstrate the sly truth that true strength lies not in its open display but in its tactical deployment.

Despite the prevalence of these magical tools, the world of Manreach is largely defined by what is absent, with the scarcity of horses serving as a powerful symbol of a lost era of human prosperity. The Goblin Wars and resulting plagues eradicated nearly all horses, and their absence signifies a profound societal trauma and a tangible loss of human mobility and power. The emotional weight of this loss is crystallized when Galva, an Ispanthian warrior from a culture renowned for its cavalry, is moved to tears by feeding a rare specimen of a mare. This moment emphasizes the realities of a world irrevocably altered by war, where a living horse is now a relic of an unrecoverable past. Parallel to this historical loss is the predatory influence of the Takers Guild, which functions like a form of modern feudalism, ensnaring individuals through debt. The letter that Kinch receives from the Guild articulates the Guild’s cold ethos, as his taskmasters weigh his “remunerative value alive” against his “cautionary value harmed” (31). This calculating language reveals a system that reduces individuals to assets and liabilities, making it clear that the Guild represents a more insidious threat than all the monsters of Manreach and beyond, for its power is economic, structural, and seemingly inescapable.

Against this backdrop of systemic oppression, the narrative also explores the theme of Finding Loyalty in Unlikely Alliances. The partnership between Kinch and Galva is forged not from friendship but from a pragmatic assessment of mutual need. Their initial interactions are overtly hostile, yet they readily form a pact because they each know that the other possesses essential skills. Kinch honors Galva’s martial prowess, while Galva implicitly acknowledges the value of Kinch’s cunning. Kinch’s proposal encapsulates the transactional nature of their bond when he offers to be a “fox to run with” (45), framing their alliance as a partnership of predators. This foundation challenges traditional fantasy tropes of fellowship by prioritizing competence over immediate trust. Theirs is a professional relationship born of necessity, but even so, this wary alliance lays the groundwork for a more profound, emotional form of loyalty that can only be forged through a succession of shared hardships.