From publisher blurb:
The moaning wind slithers through the black ruins of Vath-Karesh, whispering its lamentations to the dead. The moon, bloated and sickly, casts its jaundiced glow upon crumbling spires and ancient ossuaries, where the bones of forgotten kings lie intertwined with roots that drink deeply of their marrow. Shadows stretch long and twisted in the skeletal remains of temples once devoted to gods whose names now drip only from the lips of the damned. And here, within this forsaken sepulchre of empires past, an abomination stirs. Xalthir-Kul, the Whisperer in Webs, the Harvester of Pallid Flesh, sits enthroned in a cathedral of silk and bone, his voice a chittering susurrus in the ears of those who dare step into his domain. His rites are spun in secrecy, his prayers mouthed to the nameless spiders that crawl upon his flesh. His hunger is endless, his dominion unnatural, and his vengeance... inevitable. But against him, the last flickering flames of defiance still burn. Warborn, sorcerers, and vagabonds alike rally beneath banners of desperation, seeking to sunder his web before all of Karnaxos is cocooned in eternal night.