[ Great. Playing by the rules has never been Merle's strong suit. But he waddles forward and grabs hold of the dice. ]

Fine. I'll try to roll real shitty so you can come out a winner.

[ Except, don't take Merle's word as gold, because when he rolls the die, he gets a 1, and steps forward to an item square. A small envelope flutters down from the dark ceiling. Inside it: a photograph of two young dwarven children. Merle smiles fondly for a moment, then grimaces, going straight back to shouting at no one in particular. ]

Alright what sorta sick game is this? You got my children hostage somewhere, ya creepy bastards?!