Gorme has had the dark dreams and is, mistakenly, sure he is the chosen one. Others have had the portentous dreams too. The beautiful Nefe for instance. In their scattered enclaves the Dwarg race have also been listening. A species of psychic pachyderms, the Dwarg have thought together, well aware that there is no such thing as a chosen one. Yet they know someone must be sent to confront the evil necromancer Chauvroc. An unexpected universe unfolds, where magic has its own ideas. Where evil clones itself and is worshipped. Where warrior cats follow their own ends. The journey careers, by fusion powered zeppelin, sailing ship, foot and fin, through bleak hinterlands, through tempests, right into the dark foetid corridors of Snargaz. Beyond that, it's simply a matter of following a dragon, obscure instructions provided, to redemption or the void.

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