| It was hard growing up as a cook's son in the tiny hamlet of Spazmotic, in the land of Limberford. 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.) In the fiefdom of Limberford, in the unpleasant-smelling backwater of Cold Crick, you found an inn with cheap lager and spent the night carousing. There, you heard a tale of the forgotten treasure of the Diamond Skies, lost for ages during the time of the great upheaval. You decided to seek the treasure yourself, heedless of the literal mountain of skeletons of those who had tried before you. You were rocking the house until you got lost in a tomb -- all the walls looked exactly the same! You did find a sweet flail +1 in a horse's lair, though, and were able to intimidate some gunslingers into telling you where their boss's hideout was. Right before they stabbed you in the knee. But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Frost Necromancer Blackfist held court over his horde of skeletal gunslingers, and with uncountable swings of your mace (and a few well-placed attacks of opportunity), you finally slew the horrible jerk and rode back to town to claim your glory (and reward).
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