Thraxas ekes out a living as a private investigator. He lives in the poor part of town, with a barbarian for a landlord, and a female ex-gladiator to help him when the fighting gets rough. Thraxas might be too jaded to feel any desire for the beautiful Makri, with her Elvish and Orcish blood, but he appreciates her lethal combat skills. Thraxas once learned a little magic, but he's a hopeless sorcerer. On the other hand, he's brave, loyal to his clients, and he's a legend at the dining table. Thraxas can out-eat and out-drink anyone.

In the scorching heat of the Turanian summer, Thraxas is doing his best to avoid working. His plans for a spell of uninterrupted beer drinking go wrong when the Civil Guards arrest a man for murder, right in Thraxas's office. Outraged at this insult to his dignity, Thraxas goes into action. Soon he finds himself in the middle of a deadly war between rival bands of warrior monks. The situation becomes more complicated when a consignment of the King's gold goes missing.

It's not been a good morning for Thraxas. A vindictive judge has just fined him every guran he has, and two old enemies have threatened his life. And to cap it all, the rainy season has started and it's as wet as a mermaid's blanket in the magical city of Turai. He desperately needs a winner in the big chariot race. And he needs a job. But not even Thraxas with his sorcerous investigating skills could have predicted that his two requirements might just be connected in a strange and potentially disastrous way.

Thraxas, the biggest star of comic fantasy in every sense, bounces back with a troublesome case of Elvish fever... When Thraxas receives a message from an old friend in trouble, he has to act quickly. A terrible crime has been committed on the Elvish Isles, and Thraxas is definitely the right man for the job. The ale there is legendary. When theft turns to murder, however, Thraxas suddenly finds himself in serious demand. The elves have no experience in investigating, and Thraxas is only too happy to help out.