But most unusual about dwarves are their dice games. Six-sided dice are common throughout the lands, but dwarvish craftsmanship has given rise to exotic sets of multi-faceted dice. A typical set of hommdar, or “dwarf’s dice,” consists of a four-, a six-, an eight-, a twelve- and a twenty-sided die.

Hommdar are used almost exclusively in dwarvish games; some human collectors procure them at great cost but usually as a curiosity and with no intent of actually using them. Simple stone hommdar are fairly common among dwarves, and more elaborate and durable metallic or gemstone sets are frequently passed down along family lines. Such heirloom sets are called “gal hommdar.”

One popular game using a set of hommdar is “The Pits,” popular because the rules are simple enough even after a few-too-many flagons of mead. The Pits can be played with any number of participants, but games are usually played with between three and five.

To start, each player antes in a copper coin or some other agreed upon amount to the pot. Then each player rolls their d20. The player who rolled the highest without being tied loses, and replaces their d20 with a d12.

Players continue in rounds like this, and each time the loser goes to the next die; d20 -> d12 -> d8 -> d6 -> d4. If a player loses on a d4, that player’s out. When all but one player has been eliminated, that player wins the pot.

Each of the dice in The Pits is given a name. The d4 is the dwarf, the d6 the ogre, the d8 the human, the d12 the elf, and the d20 is the gnome (because, “Everybody hates the gnome.”).

This game has a number of regional variations, including a faster-playing variant called Elf Pit where the first player to be eliminated wins the pot and one called Reverse Pit where the order of the dice is reversed, players start with a d4, and it’s the lowest roll (without being tied) which loses each round.

At last, the plagues and foul beasts God had sent against the mortals were no more. For the first time in history, the world was united in peace, in jubilation, in celebration.

It was short-lived. There was a problem no one had accounted for. With God dead, there were no new souls. Every new baby died as soon as it was born. Human, elf, dwarf, orc, even livestock.

At first, they all banded together, trying to find a solution. Nothing worked. Food supplies were suddenly very scarce; even crops could no longer be cultivated. The only renewable source of food were from magic, and mages were rare.

The warforged, originally created to aid in the battle against God, were now turned against former allies. Wars were fought over storehouses and mages. The mortal races had accrued terrible weapons in their centuries-long war, and now entire kingdoms were reduced to smoking craters in the blink of an eye.

But that was then. Things have calmed down quite a bit now. Most of the mortals are dead. Orcs are completely extinct, and the youngest humans– those born just before God was slain– are into their sixties. Only the dwarves and elves really remain. Few of them are left, though, and even their time is dwindling.

The age of the mortals is over. This is the age of the warforged, of the kiln-born, of the liches and undead.