A minor and forgotten god of mercantilism. He travels the worlds and planes or resides in his home and lets the entrance appear where it will.
Every day, the entrance to Donovon's hut appears in a random place on one of the planes. The door appears as whatever is appropriate for the surroundings, eg: a cave tunnel with a steel door in a cavern or a gelatinous sheet stretched across a spatial ripple.
Donovon is a gambler who enjoys betting the souls of those he meets for the objects he has for sale. The game of choice is ChiChiRorin.
Donovon is rarely aware of any doings in the worlds, taking in news and doings at random while conducting his business; he provides whomever with whatever they need so long as they have the gold, or a gamblers penchant.
Donovon rarely takes the soul, typically tasking an individual with a completely random and wholly benign quest of zero value. If the individual scoffs or fails to fulfill it, their soul is forfiet.
Examples include delivering a set of cutlery to an inn, taking a stack of blank papers to a scribery, delivering a single hand keg of ale to a dwarven enclave.
The purpose of these tasks is never readily apparent, but each case has its own special reason for happening.
As a game mechanic, Donovon is the way I 'drain the coffers' or permit the players "the store that sells everything" and test who has the balls to pit their soul on a game of chance.
If a player gambles and loses, I invoke a delivery quest upon them. If they're being rude, I take a digit. If they continue, they lose a limb, and eventually, their 'soul.'
Other players can petition the god and a successful persuasion (or equivelant depending on edition) may see the PC relinquished on a bargian or some such.