| Lacking the patience to be a Mage and the brawn to be a Fighter, you decided to be the next best thing: a professional chef. Sadly, your recipe for stir-fried pound cake was unappreciated by the plebes in your tiny hometown of Dumpington, so you became a professional Thief instead. As luck would have it, you found yourself wandering through the sleepy village of Dumpington just as the village people (you know, the construction worker, the cop, the Indian) were beset by the evil Troll Grunwold, who had poisoned the town's parakeet 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 weren't having any problems but then you wandered into a room totally full of desperados, plus a horse, which is weird because you would have figured they'd have killed each other. They made a pretty good attempt at killing you, though. But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Frost Warrior Shadowside held court over his horde of ugly gunslingers, and with uncountable swings of your "Rod of Lordly Might" (if you know what I mean) (and a few well-placed attacks of opportunity), you finally slew the horrible bimbo and rode back to town to claim your glory (and reward).
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