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... t rapidly when I saw how his huge frame filled the doorway. He had a face chiseled from stone—all hard angles and deep furrows, with a nose that looked like it had been broken in a bar fight and never quite healed right.

This was the kind of man who could snap a person in half with one hand and not lose sleep over it.

He most definitely would not negotiate with me. Now, I hated myself for not improvising on the money from the mysterious benefactor before it was s ...

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Maybe I'll help some folks along the way? Who knows. Survival comes first.

The clock is ticking, and I'm left with only a century to build a Deck powerful enough to survive the end. Things to do... What's first? I need Essence, and I need power. I'll have to climb the Tower to acquire both of these. Some of the zealots will try to stop me, need to look out for those. What if-

“Hey, kid! Hand over the pouch or-”

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Sorry, where was I? Ah... there's a spot of blood on my suit. What a lousy morning.

In this world of blood and fantasy, century-old Rowan Wilder has to not only survive, but thrive as he powers his way to the top of the Tower. The Demonic Plague that has twisted the creatures on the upper Floors is the least of his worries. Cane in hand and Summons by his side, he'll have to tear his way through the monsters, as well as the humans who want to stop his ascent. Of course, he can maintain a sense of decorum while he faces these trials, right?