| You grew up the son of a serf, but decided such a profession was lacking in excitement. After much hard training, (if you never lift weights again, it'll be too soon) you finally became a mighty Fighter. In the fiefdom of Hambonia, in the unpleasant-smelling backwater of Rusty Nail, you found an inn with cheap stout and spent the night carousing. There, you heard a tale of the forgotten treasure of the Silver Skies, lost for ages during the time of the great rain of %pluralanimals. You decided to seek the treasure yourself, heedless of the literal mountain of skeletons of those who had tried before you. At first it was a real breeze, until you got lost in a ruin -- all the walls looked exactly the same! You did find a sweet sword +1 in a lich's lair, though, and were able to intimidate some bandits into telling you where their boss's hideout was. Right before they stabbed you in the arm. But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Blood Warlock Englebert held court over his horde of drunken ents, and with uncountable swings of your dagger (and a few well-placed attacks of opportunity), you finally slew the horrible buttface and rode back to town to claim your glory (and reward).
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