"Roll".
"We've played long enough old man. I gave you what you needed. Though I cannot say it will help you. Why don't you just take your little treasure and go, before I lose my patience."
"Roll," the gambler pressed.
"Very well. But then what will you do when you lose?'' sighed the great goblin, tossing the odd-shaped dice to the floor.
Two moss colored stones embraced before splintering apart like a short lived romance. A moment later, and chance answered, leaving the goblin with a wide black-toothed grin.
"I warned you Prospector, you should've left while you could."
"Roll", the gambler asked once more, staring at the dice as if waiting for something to happen.
"For what Prospector?" the great goblin sneered, quite certain he had bested the man. Crowds of laughter echoed the sentiment among the shadows.
"For initiative,'' the gambler answered.
A look of confusion spread across the gnarled, warty face of Ashurz the Great Goblin King, ruler of Goblin-town. The dull green stones began glowing; a little at first, but then brighter and brighter until the whole room was consumed with a blinding flash of light. Legions of orc-kind became visible just as they fell to the floor cowering in terror. And then just as quickly as the light had come it vanished, and the room was calm once more.
Deep within dark halls, under the Misty Mountains, the goblins began to rise, scratching their heads and muttering to themselves. The gambler’s trick was soon made apparent when they realized their great goblin king stood motionless.
Alas,the old gambler was gone. The goblin king wanted to claw, kick, and scream. He made every effort to pursue his longtime adversary, but to know avail. For though the king’s mind was awake, his body was fast asleep. He was frozen in time.
A short time later the heavy sounds of a clamoring goblin army could be heard off in the distance; heralded by furious screams of the goblin king echoing throughout the twisted chambers.
"You can run Prospector, but you'll never escape them. Their little pet is going to find you and your friends too. The black ranger is coming for you all. Your spider-cleaver won’t save you. The girl won’t save you either! Are you listening Old Man. The Oak is dead! You’re all dead. Are you listening to me Duramarth? Dura...marth!”
