| You grew up on the disgusting streets of the great Gold 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. Having heard many rumors about how Coney Island was being systematically sacked by a band of marauding desperados (who had already looted and burned the villages of Pittsburgh, Cold Crick, and Pig-in-a-Poke), and the ludicrous reward being offered for the solar plexus of their leader, you decided it was finally time to put your mettle to the test. You were rocking the house but then you wandered into a room totally full of accountants, plus a cockatrice, 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 all that drama couldn't stop you. You'd never given up on anything, not even your childhood quest to rake all the rat in your hometown of Cabbagetown. So you kept going, right into the tannery of the evil Witchlord Diabolico. 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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