Throughout the vast lands controlled by the Ironship Trading Syndicate, nothing is more prized than the blood of drakes. Harvested from captive or hunted Reds, Greens, Blues, and Blacks, it can be distilled into elixirs that bestow fearsome powers on the rare men and women known as the Blood-blessed. But not many know the truth: that the lines of drakes are weakening. If they fail, war with the neighboring Corvantine Empire will follow swiftly.

Born into the troubled kingdom of Albermaine, Alwyn Scribe is raised as an outlaw. Quick of wit and deft with a blade, Alwyn is content with the freedom of the woods and the comradeship of his fellow thieves. But an act of betrayal sets him on a new path - one of blood and vengeance, which eventually leads him to a soldier's life in the king's army. Fighting under the command of Lady Evadine Courlain, a noblewoman beset by visions of a demonic apocalypse, Alwyn must survive war and the deadly intrigues of the nobility if he hopes to claim his vengeance.

For decades, the brothers of the Sixth Order have fought a savage war against the Lonak clans amid the frozen peaks of their dominion. When word reaches the North of a fresh outbreak of the dreaded Red Hand, Brother Sollis, the finest swordsman in the Order, leads a small band to a long-abandoned castle in search of a potential cure but discovers a far greater threat lurking in the mountains. Enemies become allies as Sollis leads an increasingly desperate fight against an inhuman enemy steeped in the power of the Dark.

Vaelin Al Sorna is a living legend, his name known across the Realm. It was his leadership that overthrew empires, his blade that won hard-fought battles - and his sacrifice that defeated an evil more terrifying than anything the world had ever seen. He won titles aplenty, only to cast aside his earned glory for a quiet life in the Realm's northern reaches. Yet whispers have come from across the sea - rumours of an army called the Steel Horde, led by a man who believes himself a god.

Mankind has lorded over the land of Illian for a thousand years, building on the ruins left by the elves, as if it were their birthright. A thousand years is a long time for an immortal race to see the truth of things, a truth that has remained unsaid for a millennium - elves are superior. They are faster, stronger, and connected to the magical realm in a way that man could never grasp. Illian should belong to them.