Inferno

I’ll admit, I approached *Inferno* with skepticism—another ‘modern world meets fantasy’ story? But within 30 minutes, Goldstrom’s narration had me fully invested, his voice a perfect match for Rus’s blend of noir cynicism and mythic dread. The opening scene, where a gnoll delegation arrives at the Kremlin with the casual menace of a debt collector, sets the tone: this isn’t a story about heroes or chosen ones. It’s about systems collapsing under the weight of their own contradictions, and Goldstrom *sells* that tension. His Russian accents are impressively consistent (a rarity in audiobooks), and he nails the eerie, almost clinical detachment of the human bureaucrats contrasting with the gnolls’ predatory charm. The story’s biggest strength—and occasional weakness—is its relentless pacing. Rus jumps between perspectives with the precision of a thriller, but sometimes the mythic stakes get lost in the procedural details. A mid-book detour into occult corporate espionage drags slightly, feeling more like a *Mission: Impossible* outtake than part of the cosmic chess game. That said, the payoff is worth it: the final act’s fusion of Slavic eschatology and Cold War paranoia is genuinely unsettling, and Goldstrom’s delivery during the climax—particularly the scenes with the ‘half-forgotten gods’—gives me chills even now. My only real critique? The sound mixing occasionally muddies the gnollish dialogue; a touch more post-production polish on those growls would’ve helped. But if you love your fantasy with teeth, a side of vodka, and zero easy answers, this is a must-listen.