| It was hard growing up as a "seamstress"'s son in the tiny hamlet of Morpork, in the land of Bale. The other children mocked you because of your glasses and asthma, but you would have the last laugh when you grew up to be a mighty Wizard! (Which you did.) As luck would have it, you found yourself wandering through the sleepy village of Cheddarwurst just as the village people (you know, the construction worker, the cop, the Indian) were beset by the evil Lord Badfella, who had poisoned the town's tarantula population. Against your better judgment (and with the hope of fat loot to come), you agreed to try and bring the villain to justice. You had a good handle on it at first, but you didn't expect to have to bareknuckle-fight all those indigent native tribesmen. That flesh golem picked the total worst time to eat your crossbow. However, you knew you'd never be a mighty adventurer if you let a little setback like that stop you, and damned if you were going to end up a village idiot in some crummy backwater like Bobcat or Sudoku. So you pressed onward until you discovered the lair of the Terror Warrior Morgar, and after a long and dramatic battle you successfully put an end to his evil ways. And then you looted the hell out of his hideout.
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