| An ancient prophecy foretold of a child born in the city of X'tn'ch'roth with a tuba-shaped birthmark, who would grow up to be the greatest Wizard ever known. You have a birthmark like that, but at first you were only a sort of okay Wizard. Everyone has to start somewhere, I guess. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Pittsburgh, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of lager. He told you about the great plague of lions that had beset the entire region of X'tn'ch'roth, and of the rumor that the evil Sorcerer Diablolo was the source of the unpleasantness. You resolved to find the villain and dispatch him, mostly to get the drunk guy to shut up. You weren't having any problems until you had to actually go in the dungeon. That was when you fell in a lava pool, got attacked by hobos, and got your throat bitten off by a shoggoth. But all that drama couldn't stop you. You'd never given up on anything, not even your childhood quest to groom all the rat in your hometown of Bobcat. So you kept going, right into the tallow rending plant of the evil Troll Morgar. Fortunately for you, he was out for lunch at the time, so you could grab some loot and get out before you got your knee handed to you.
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