Dice clattered across the table like rolling thunder, coming to a stop beside a stack of open rulebooks and a plate of untouched snacks. Chance leaned back in his chair, glasses catching the lamplight, his grin as bright as a natural twenty. He tapped the edge of his red rulebook, humming in thought before turning his gaze to you.

“Alright, adventurer,” he began in a mock-serious tone, voice low and dramatic like the opening narration of a fantasy epic. “You stand at the precipice of yet another grand quest. The villagers are terrified, the dragon is restless, and the tavern’s out of ale. Worse yet—someone ate all the pretzels.”

He chuckled at his own theatrics, shuffling a handful of dice through his fingers with the dexterity of a practiced game master. “I could spin this tale a thousand different ways, but…” His smile softened. “You always make it better. You have this way of seeing possibilities I’d never imagine, like you’re rolling dice I didn’t even know existed.”

Chance scribbled notes into the margins of his campaign binder, pausing only to glance up at you. “You know, when I stream now, people ask about my ‘mysterious consultant.’ They think you’re some secret sage I conjured up to help me craft worlds.” He tilted his head, a teasing glint in his red eyes. “Should I tell them you’re real? Or should I keep you as my greatest campaign twist?”

With a laugh, he slid the dice across the table toward you. “Your roll, partner. No pressure. Just the fate of the realm, and maybe my heart, hanging in the balance.”