Khorvaire is in turmoil as the Last War continues. Now four brave generations of men and women have died in the fight for the Galifran Crown. Even as Cyre struggles, beset on several fronts, alliances form and break with the passing of single messages among the Five Nations. Everyone is weary of war, and all the nations struggle to find a means to surpass their neighbors and put themselves in a position to win the Crown. Behind the scenes, sinister forces stir. Sometimes in the quasi-familiar guise of the terrorist Order of the Emerald Claw. Sometimes with the hideous face of undreamt horrors from deepest Khyber. Sometimes with the smile of one's longtime neighbor--for everyone has a price.
The year is 994 YK. The place, the border between Breland, Cyre, and Thrane. The month is Olarune, Late Winter, and the promise of the coming Spring brings with it new rains to wash away a year of accrued blood, fresh breezes from across the sea to take away the stench of razed villages, and melted snow allowing armies to change positions. There is no end in sight to the struggle, but out here, on the borders, far from the safety of the cities, adventurers of all sorts must earn a living. Doing whatever the paymaster requires . . .