The set shimmered in the dim light of the tavern, a testament to a bygone glory. Each die, crafted from polished white ceramic, bore intricate carvings that spoke tales of celestial realms and fallen grace. A faint hum pulsed from them, a remnant of the energy once wielded by its owner, a Fallen Aasimar whose name was erased. Rumors abound about

were being they a rank-and-file soldier in certain unknown army or simply a guild artisan apprenticed into a learn inside of a much-off metropolis? Or even an area sage understood their magical potential at a youthful age and qualified them because delivery as an acolyte. Marcello Mastroianni was presented the position of Nilo, which he at first r