Nobody likes rawgrs. Call them hellhounds or demons, whatever you like - they're a bad lot, and no good can come from stirring them up.Even those that were supposedly destroyed five centuries ago.

But if the lordly Peladanes are offering good money to anyone prepared to enlist in a quest to kill a rawgr that's already dead, then who is Bolldhe to complain？ The shiftless wanderer has spent the last eighteen years travelling the world and selling clairvoyant lies to gullible idiots, so why start worrying about moral integrity now？

...

Nobody likes rawgrs. Call them hellhounds or demons, whatever you like - they're a bad lot, and no good can come from stirring them up.Even those that were supposedly destroyed five centuries ago.

But if the lordly Peladanes are offering good money to anyone prepared to enlist in a quest to kill a rawgr that's already dead, then who is Bolldhe to complain？ The shiftless wanderer has spent the last eighteen years travelling the world and selling clairvoyant lies to gullible idiots, so why start worrying about moral integrity now？

Just think: ancient fortresses, glittering mountains; vast, dark forests;lands of giants, lands of fire and ice; lands never before visited by inen or any of the other races inhabiting Lindormyn... As far as Bolldhe is concerned, the challenge is welcome and the sun again shines on his life.

So out they set from the northern town of Nordwas, a motley crew of seven companions embarking on a sacred venture. Ahead of them lie weeks of hazardous progress through an increasingly desolate landscape, while each day fate confronts them with an array of weird creatures, huldres, elementals and malevolent spirits, embroiling them in perils unimaginable.