Most fantasy stories romanticise thieves.

But what happens when survival demands something darker?

Would you take a life to survive?

Words on a stone background with a skull motif and a Citadel logo. The words say: I didn't want to write another 'Chosen-One' fantasy, so I wrote one where power always comes at a cost. Toby Andrew, author

What happens to the real people when something cataclysmic befalls a world? What happens to the merchants, sailors, tanners, teachers? What does their story look like?

The Keeper of The Secret carries a burden no one else knows exists.
When the Dark Lord returns, he must stand before a king and ask for the one thing no ruler ever gives freely - his life.
It is far more likely that the Keeper will lose his head before he convinces anyone.

People believe the Blends are monsters. The truth is much, much worse.

A towering horned Blend creature stands silhouetted in a misty forest at night. Its massive humanoid body and bull-like horns emerge through thick fog as it walks down a dark woodland path, creating a menacing grimdark fantasy atmosphere.

The Citadel has guarded humanity for centuries. Tonight the Blends come to break it.

A leather coin pouch has spilled gold coins across a cracked stone floor beside a pool of blood, beneath the words “Power Demands Payment” in a dark fantasy style composition.

In the Citadel, all power comes at a price. You just have to decide if it is worth the cost.

Don't enter The Citadel if you want to feel safe and cosy and expect the 'hero' to win...

An elderly medieval scribe sits at a wooden desk in a candlelit stone archive chamber, writing with a quill in a massive worn leather-bound ledger. A glowing blue Moon Crystal rests on the open pages, casting cold magical light across the parchment and the scribe’s hands. Tall shelves of ancient books fade into the dark background while warm candlelight contrasts with the crystal’s eerie blue glow, creating a grimdark fantasy atmosphere of secrecy and scholarship.

There are still some Moon Crystals scattered about Meri'Dimion. The Marshals want them all locked up in the Citadel. Would you surrender that power to save humanity?

Two outstretched human hands held palm-up in a dark, moody setting. The upper hand is strong and youthful, glowing with swirling golden magical energy that forms bright sparks and flowing lines above the palm. Below it, an aged and withered hand rests open, its skin deeply wrinkled and weathered. Dramatic cinematic lighting highlights the contrast between vibrant magical power and frail old age against a shadowy stone background.

In the world of the Citadel, magic is not free.

A Crafter must bind magic to their own life to bring it into the world.

When the spell leaves them, part of that life leaves with it.

Power always demands payment.

Grimdark fantasy throne chamber in a cavern, lit by torches, with an iron throne on a stone dais and a glowing magical circle carved into the floor.

A consequence of one rule in the world I’m building:

Nothing is given freely.

Power always demands payment.
But the debt rarely falls on the person who first claimed the advantage.

In Meri’Dimion, consequences travel further than anyone expects.

A rule of the world I’m building:

Nothing is given freely.

Power always asks something in return.
The trouble is that the person who pays the price is rarely the one who chose to wield it.

Some ideas don’t survive in fragments. They fracture.
Social media is built for moments.
But certain themes - power, compromise, consequence - need space.
The Citadel Readers Guild is where I explore the structure beneath the story.
If you’re interested in foundations rather than flashes, it’s open.

This isn’t just a logo, it’s a statement. The circle represents order, structure, the idea of a Citadel. The edges are fractured, imperfect. Power isn’t clean. Authority isn’t gentle. Every symbol carries weight and every structure is built on cost. There is no escaping consequence.

The Break is silent. Not peaceful - silent. Like the world is holding its breath.
How would that feel to be standing somewhere that had no life or sound anywhere, other than yourself?

I’m interested in places that move more slowly - places where readers can explore new worlds without ai algorithms pushing the obvious voices to the front.

Would you join a private fantasy reader guild?

Some spells never die. They just change what’s left behind.

I’m more interested in the damage power does in the long term, than in that single moment it’s wielded.

I've been wondering about how different elements hit different people, so tell me - what makes a fantasy world feel real to you when you're reading a book?

Some characters mistake power for permission.

I’m more interested in the idea that power doesn’t remove responsibility - it multiplies it.

Appearances matter. People must see strength, even if it’s an illusion.

I keep coming back to this idea when I write - how often power survives on perception long after truth stops supporting it.

I'm interested to know if folk think that dark fantasy works best when it focuses on power... or people?

I’ve realised I write grimdark fantasy because I’m less interested in destiny than responsibility.

What people do when there’s no certainty. When they act on knowledge they believe is true and have to live with the consequences if it isn’t.

That feels closer to real life than heroism.

A dark, weathered marshal’s cloak fastened with a heavy metal clasp. It is an eagle standing on a set of scales, a symbol of authority and duty in a grimdark fantasy world.

One of the ideas I believe is that authority isn’t empowering - it’s isolating.

Marshals carry the law so others don’t have to become a mob. They’re feared for it, and remembered without gratitude.

That feels closer to the truth than heroism ever does.

I'm curious - What draws you to dark fantasy?

I keep coming back to this idea while writing — prophecy doesn’t remove choice. It just changes who pays for it.