Luck is like a wild card in a game of poker – you never know when it’s going to show up and change the game. And as a rogue, I know the value of a good hand. But let me tell you, I ain’t got nothin’ on my buddy Greg.
Greg was the luckiest rogue I’ve ever had the pleasure of robbing with. We were like Bonnie and Clyde, but with less bullets and more pickpocketing. We would wander the land, finding unsuspecting victims to relieve of their gold and raiding dungeons with more traps than a mouse in a laboratory. It was a beautiful thing, but the thing that still baffles me to this day is how insanely lucky Greg really was.
I’m not talking about regular luck, this was next level stuff. He could tell the most obvious lie and people would believe him! He would stumble through hallways filled with poison darts and come out without a scratch. I swear, I even saw him convince a locked chest to open just by talking to it! I never knew how he got to be so lucky, and every time I asked him about it, he would just brush it off.
But then, I had a breakthrough. I remembered something about Greg, something that he always had with him, something that he never parted with. It was a small lamp, about the size of my palm. He guarded it like it was the Holy Grail. And that’s when it hit me, my theory. The lucky son of a gun had a genie’s lamp! That’s got to be how he was able to pull off these impossible feats. I’ve seen a few genie lamps in my time, and that little trinket Greg had fit the description perfectly.
Well, that’s my theory at least. I haven’t seen the guy since we went our separate ways all those years ago. I guess the mystery of Greg’s luck will remain unsolved, but one thing’s for sure, if I ever come across a genie’s lamp, I’m keeping it close. Real close.
