Erevis Cale - simple butler or much, much more? The shadows grow long on the mean streets of Selgaunt...and the sun sets on one man's service to Sembia's merchant lords. The day's end finds Erevis Cale serving a new master, one who is beyond the petty accumulation of wealth. After all, what is gold to one who trades in souls?

The Lady has spoken to me. It has already begun. Shadows move out of the shrinking desert, south to the rich and arrogant cities of Sembia. "Be brave, little man," says the shadowman, and the boy thinks his voice is surprisingly soft. "Stay with your mother. This will be over soon." The shadows swallow him and he is gone. On the edge of a war that will change the face of Faern, the world will find that not all shadows serve Shade.

Lifelong friends, they went their separate ways. Now they are together again, though each holds secrets from the others in his heart. They speak of a world shadowed with rumors of war. They speak of tales of strange monsters, creatures of myth, creatures of legend. They do not speak of their secrets. Not then. Not until a chance encounter with a beautiful, sorrowful woman, who bears a magical crystal staff, draws the companions deeper into the shadows, forever changing their lives and shaping the fate of the world.

Her name is Alias, and she is in big trouble. She is a sell-sword, a warrior-for-hire, and an adventuress. She awoke with a series of twisting, magical blue sigils inscribed on her arms and no memory of where she got them. Determined to learn the nature of the mysterious tattoo, Alias joins forces with an unlikely group of companions: the halfling bard, Ruskettle, the southern mage, Akabar, and the oddly silent lizard-man, Dragonbait.

Renegade dragon hunter Dorn hates dragons with a passion few can believe, let alone match. He has devoted his entire life - a life spent in the twisted body of a half-golem - to killing every dragon he can find. You might feel the same way if one of them had killed your entire family in front of your eyes, bitten you in half, and left you for dead. Killing one dragon at a time is hard enough, but when the irresistible impluse to slip into feral madness begins to overcome not one but every dragon all across Faern, civilization's only hope may lie in the last alliance Dorn and his fellow dragon hunters would ever accept.