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The gods are real. There is Lilit, Zarathus, and The-God-Who-Laughs. And there is Yscyigg, the tentacled one, the many-headed wolf, He whose body is His people’s afterlife. Together, He and the others have shepherded humanity for two thousand years.

The gods are dying. Decades of civil war have done their damage. Zarathus is gone. Lilit’s followers are scattered. Only Yscyigg’s chosen remain. Though born ordinary men, these paladins can twist the bodies of their enemies and command the god’s own tentacles. And should these knights be hurt, Yscyigg closes their wounds with His own divine flesh.

One year ago a paladin killed nearly all of his comrades, leaving the land defenceless. Now the paladin runs from his crimes. He hides from his conscience while plague and famine spread across the continent. But he knows what he must do. He must return and confront his god.

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