Aaren's fingers slid over the tile, scrabbling against the wet, the slick. He prayed.

As hard as he could to the gods he knew weren't there, weren't real, didn't care. The slide stopped. He scrambled back to the rooftop, haul intact.

But his feet still felt the slippery tile, his stomach the lurch of the fall. Until he got back to base and found a God staring back at him expectantly.

The Thief's Prayer will pull you down and drag you into its world, never to let you go.