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Deep in the unexplored reaches of the dungeon, a corpse is discovered—one that shouldn’t exist. After Iarumas is resurrected, his memories of life before death are gone, and he spends his days delving into the dungeon to retrieve the bodies of dead adventurers. Can they be revived as well? Or will God reduce them to piles of ash on the altar? Either way, Iarumas collects his finder’s fee. And though his skills earn him some grudging respect, he’s also scorned for this cold, utilitarian attitude. The living keep their distance—Iarumas consorts primarily with the dead. That is, until he meets Garbage, a feral young swordswoman who’s the sole survivor of a massacred party. With Garbage by his side, Iarumas ventures deeper, scouring the dungeon for clues to his past, avoiding monsters, traps, and the inevitability of a permanent ashen demise.
Deep in the unexplored reaches of the dungeon, a corpse is discovered—one that shouldn’t exist. After Iarumas is resurrected, his memories of life before death are gone, and he spends his days delving into the dungeon to retrieve the bodies of dead adventurers. Can they be revived as well? Or will God reduce them to piles of ash on the altar? Either way, Iarumas collects his finder’s fee. And though his skills earn him some grudging respect, he’s also scorned for this cold, utilitarian attitude. The living keep their distance—Iarumas consorts primarily with the dead. That is, until he meets Garbage, a feral young swordswoman who’s the sole survivor of a massacred party. With Garbage by his side, Iarumas ventures deeper, scouring the dungeon for clues to his past, avoiding monsters, traps, and the inevitability of a permanent ashen demise.
Scorch marks blacken the wireframe dungeon, and the smell of burnt meat hangs in the air. Iarumas’s party stumbles upon a corpse, more charcoal than flesh, and Raraja insists on dragging it out. Murmur—Chant—Pray—Invoke. A large-framed girl named Berkanan gulps the fresh air of her second chance at life. Her confidence is low and her skills as a fledgling mage are inadequate, but despite all that, she has a serious goal—kill the red dragon that burned her party alive. This dragon, an interloper from the lower levels of the dungeon, has become so notorious that even the most seasoned parties refuse to engage. Even so, Garbage and Raraja agree to aid Berkanan, and Iarumas lends his support. The chances of failure are high, but in the dungeon, immolation is not a permanent end...as long as someone is willing to pay. Can Iarumas’s party douse the flames of the dragon, or will they all succumb to a menacing red death?
Within the dungeon, a famous weapon is nothing more than a basic blade. Even a broadsword that’s gutted a dragon can be reduced to shattered steel. Devastated, Garbage seeks out a replacement for her beloved sword...but what weapon could possibly match her? An old blade, sharp as diamond—the return of a legend. As ever, the dungeon’s maw yawns wide to swallow foolhardy adventurers, and Iarumas’s party continues to delve for treasure, for corpses, and for answers. One day, a member of Raraja’s former clan catches up to him and dangles a tantalizing proposition: in exchange for clues about the rhea girl’s whereabouts, Raraja must go into the dungeon alone. What could await him but a dark, lonely death? What awaits Garbage but a jagged, broken sword? And what slumbering legends might awaken in the blackest depths of the dungeon?
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