I did not want to find those cursed dice. My life would be much simpler. Wake up, breakfast, expedition to the excavation site, dinner, and sleep. Simple life. What the hell tempted me? Why am I cursing like this? Let me explain. You see, there are mage brotherhoods on the continent that do not fit into the simple division of elements. They often operate in the underground, conducting forbidden arts research in the dark. One of such secret societies was the Brotherhood of Death. People devoid of empathy and morality. They dwelled in crypts, studied human remains, and ate human flesh. They sacrificed souls to be able to animate humans. They did not succeed in this art, but each time they created abominations. They prolonged their life, but lost hair, their complexion became pale, nails grew, turning into claws. They themselves became specters. These dice are a cursed artifact from one of their hideouts. Thanks to them, you gain immortality at the cost of sanity... I will give them to you. You will tame them if you have a strong will. I will pass, thank you.
