| You grew up on the monstrous streets of the great Ruby City, where contrary to popular belief, the streets are mainly paved with horse dung. Well, at least in your neighborhood. Small wonder you grew up to be a professional Thief. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Hamlet, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of barley pop. He told you about the great plague of cats that had beset the entire region of Wibbleshire, and of the rumor that the evil Sorcerer Grognard was the source of the unpleasantness. You resolved to find the villain and dispatch him, mostly to get the drunk guy to shut up. At first it was a real breeze, until you got attacked by more hobos than you could handle. You were lucky to get out of there with your head intact! Bruised but unbroken, you readied your crossbow and marched forth into the darkness, where you were immediately captured by the Vampire Necromancer Grunwold's army of golden-haired hobos. They hauled you before their master, but got bored and wandered off during his long gloating speech. Seeing your chance, you pushed the evil jerk into his own cheese-grater, and escaped to claim your reward from the grateful people of Glameroth.
|