With their dying breath, the Prae’surlas would breathe glory to their god. But their god is dead, their usurper defeated, their sanctuary desecrated, and their homes burned beneath a demon’s flame. Godless and lost, the Prae’surlas are a broken people and they are about to be invaded by the Fureath’i hordes. The barbarians of Furea march with the sole desire to burn every last Prae’surlas to cinder and ash, but Surlas is a land of Demi-gods who stand ready to defend, Demi-gods such as the mad Iceborn: Frind’aal, the former Champion Above.
Griffil and Krife are in Mordengrav, far away from the Fureath’i war, and safe in the capital city of the great Mordec Empire; but the empire is not safe from them. Death and destruction follow these two thieves wherever they travel, having already brought ruin to Amidon City and the Thorann Web, and while it might appear that Krife and Griffil are only interested in hunting treasure and spending it on whores, there are powers in the Mordec Empire who know better than to allow these two to wander free.
And then there’s Lord Thisian Flameborn, who’s not allowed to wander anywhere anymore, free or otherwise. Enrolled within the Amalgamation of Sorcerers, Thisian feels he has become trapped in that damned tower, tricked into his situation by a sexy witch. Torn between trying to learn magical powers (which he’s already bloody got) and helping Zavi breach a new world of power (which he wants nothing the rut to do with), Thisian laments his old life as a Fureath’i, and almost considers adding his power to help with the war against Surlas. After all, he is an almighty Flameborn – possibly the most handsome and powerful one that’s ever existed. He’ll have to think about it though, and until then, someone else will just have to fight that flaming war for him. Maybe Frehep will do it; he never bloody does anything else.
The sun god sees you, Surlas, and he sees you burning in a war of flames.