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In a society that could be ours, or not, in
a time that was, or not, there hunkers a stone castle. Inside is Bronwyn, a
woman ruined, a woman with a wooden leg. She has a tarot deck able to
manipulate destiny, and a list of names. Her time for payback has now come.
Somewhere in the cold dark halls another
stalks in stealth, cloak swirling, stripped of life, a man who waves crystals
over a scarred table, binding each name to an attention-seeking card. Zanderin
will play this game, for he, too, seeks something.
A card, after all, is just a card … until
Zanderin delivers it.
The cards are dealt, the conflict begins. Karma
rides towards the players via a swift carriage.
This is Tinsal, and this is cosmic
vengeance.
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