Luck was a powerful force. Chaos permeated everything—it was the clay from which the world was once built, and though now it was made of order, there was no escaping the origins of the nature. Mortals prayed to gods and luck both. Gods were too prideful to pray and strong enough to force the world and the fate into giving them what they wanted.
But luck was still there. Still influencing everything and everyone.
God of Rogues considered himself the only god who still believed in the power luck and chance had over him. Sometimes, when he didn't know his way, he liked to rely on them to lead someplace interesting.
For that, he used an old-fashioned method: a pair of dice. They were made of orichalcum to mitigate any possible magical interferences in a throw and tastefully engraved with geometrical ornaments. A true work of art. God of Rogues could throw them so they land any side he wanted, but he also could let them land like they want—and he did.
