Reflecting Back on the Deeds We've Done, and Setting Out Again: Throne of Iron's "Adventure Two"

It's been nearly five years since I wrote my review of Throne of Iron's killer debut album Adventure One. Back then, we were forced to deal with a savage pandemic that ended up killing a million Americans; now we're living in a fascist regime that grows more grotesque and unbearable by the day, and we can only guess what the human cost will be. I hope the next time these dudes put out a record that we're living in happier times, but I'm not holding my breath.

Throne of Iron hasn't been super prolific in the intervening years, but they haven't been idle, either: they released a live album, a couple singles, a split with California thrash nerds Dungeon Crawl, and an EP. They even had a short-lived podcast that I enjoyed, but I imagine that life got in the way of that and everything else, as it tends to do. Point is that I've been waiting for this album for a while, and I'm stoked to tell y'all that it's everything you want from a sophomore effort.

Adventure Two picks up where Adventure One left off, literally and musically speaking. Their first album closed with a catchy instrumental synth piece called "Wish," which is forged into the straight-up metal opener "Denied" on this new album, using the same melody. It's pretty genius in its own way, and bodes well for the rest of the record. "Denied" is, fittingly, about a party of adventurers casting the legendarily fickle Wish spell and not getting what they hoped for from it.

I'm not going to go through the album song by song, but I will note that "The Oath" has a cool video that sums up the Throne of Iron aesthetic and showcases the classic metal sound that Adventure Two develops beyond what was heard on its predecessor. It also reveals that Hamm's is the band's beer of choice (which you might have figured out from their song "Gods of Liquid Gold" on the split with Dungeon Crawl), and that they're fond of cats. I told you it was a cool video.

The production is nice and clear. Guitars, drums, and vocals alike are mixed well, which is a bit of a relief because the drum sound on the original release of The Side Quest (the Dungeon Crawl split) was bafflingly bad. The bass gets kind of lost, though it's there, and I think this is because there isn't a full-time bassist in the band right now. Arzab of the Howling Abyss is credited as playing bass, but I suspect Arzab may be a stage name for one of the other members, or possibly a laptop. It doesn't really matter, fortunately.

Adventure Two is faster and more complex that Adventure One, demonstrating that the band has spent the last few years really fleshing out their sound and improving their songwriting, which was already solid to begin with. Gone are the first album's aural references to actually playing Dungeons & Dragons (the Dungeon Master and players' dialogue, the sound of rolling dice), but as much as I got a kick out of those, they're not necessary here. You get a slab of straight-up heavy metal that stands proudly on its own.

So there you have it, dudes. This is a fine progression for Throne of Iron, and an album anyone who likes traditional heavy metal will dig. It's got good riffs, tons of energy, and a bunch of songs about what totally has to be the band's D&D campaign. It's time to once more crack open a cold one, grab your dice, and—if you happened to buy the LP edition of Adventure Two—take the Dungeon Crawling Casserole the band gave you the recipe for out of the oven. Your buddies will be here soon, and there's fun to be had.

Dungeon Crawling, Heavy Metal: Throne of Iron's "Adventure One"

Getting folks together to play Dungeons & Dragons or another tabletop RPG is always a chore these days, and by "these days" I mean "ever since college." The pandemic has made things somewhat easier for those who play over Zoom, something I haven't tried yet but probably will, sooner or later. Still, ever since I started playing in 1989 or 1990—I never remember which year it was, but it was fifth grade—one of the biggest appeals of the game, and role-playing in general, was reading the rulebooks and setting material and writing up all the characters, places, and events you might someday use in an adventure. As it turns out, the solitary side of what's meant to be a social pastime is as meaningful and fun as playing the game itself! Well, kinda; during all that time spent drawing dungeon maps and creating NPCs, you always hope you'll get to put it into action with some friends after school or on a Friday night, sharing a pizza, a two-liter of soda or a sixer of beer, a bunch of dice, and, inevitably, one measly pencil sharpener.

My experience with heavy metal parallels my D&D career, and is probably similar to a lot of other metalheads'. You get into metal at an age when music is just starting to mean something—entertainment, the source of a burgeoning identity, emotional catharsis, you name it—and it just makes sense. It fuckin' rules. If you're lucky, you have a metalhead friend or two with whom to share the experience, first of listening to shared albums and then going to shows, but it's basically a solo endeavor. If going to concerts is like playing D&D with a proper group, listening to metal records in your bedroom is like reading the Dungeon Master's Guide or the Cyclopedia of the Realms and figuring out what magic items to put in the stash the PCs will find if they don't fuck up too badly. (This is something you'd likely do, of course, while listening to heavy metal in your bedroom, so the comparison is even more apt, I'd say.)

It goes without saying that heavy metal and D&D have a long shared history. Orcus only knows how many metal records contain songs about the band's player characters, or how many D&D monsters and villains have been inspired by metal.  Throne of Iron, however, is one of the few bands that puts the D&D connection front and center, which is one of the things that drew me to them. The band's logo uses the distinctive font from the BECMI D&D boxed sets from the '80s, they've released four singles in the "Roll for Metal" series, which utilize randomly-generated riffs and lyrics, and Adventure One, the band's first full-length, plays out like a D&D adventure, complete with a Dungeon Master, the clatter of dice, and player commentary (The disappointed "fuck" when someone makes a shitty roll for initiative is something we've all uttered.) The combination feels natural, and the somewhat jokey gameplay elements don't detract from the musical at all. Hell, it's all just fun. Watch the "Lichspire" video and you'll see what I mean.

Throne of Iron, you'll be shocked to learn, plays heavy metal in the traditional early '80s vein (which you'll have figured out if you watched the video I linked to a sentence ago.) Think Manilla Road, maybe, with less distinctive vocals, but don't worry about comparisons too much. It's not ground-breaking, but it doesn't try, or need, to be. It's just good, solid, heavy metal full of reliable riffs, mid-tempo chugging, and that admirable quality of being equally worth listening to carefully while you're rolling up stats for that sentient magic sword, or putting on in the background while your party sets out to cleanse the lair of a long-dead wizard of the gelatinous cubes who've moved in. 

So grab a Lone Star—or whatever cheap local beer they drink in Bloomington, Indiana, where Throne of Iron is from—and your dice bag, put on Adventure One at a suitable volume, and enjoy the best of what D&D and heavy metal have to offer. Whether you're alone or with friends, you'll have fun, which is something everyone from the lowliest nerd to the most beer-fueled hesher needs in these dark days. 

May all your 20s be natural, dudes, and long live heavy metal!