| It was hard growing up as a blacksmith's son in the tiny hamlet of Quirm, in the land of Llewllamarall. 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.) Having heard many rumors about how Shamablamaroth was being systematically sacked by a band of marauding barbarians (who had already looted and burned the villages of Phlegm, Pig-in-a-Poke, and Morpork), and the ludicrous reward being offered for the eye of their leader, you decided it was finally time to put your mettle to the test. It was pretty easy, until you had to fend off half a dozen dark elves with your solar plexus trapped in a crocodile's mouth. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the carrion crawler showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked. However, you knew you'd never be a mighty adventurer if you let a little setback like that stop you, and damned if you were going to end up a bard in some crummy backwater like Sudoku or Flytrap. So you pressed onward until you discovered the lair of the Blood Wizard Grognard, and after a long and dramatic battle you successfully put an end to his evil ways. And then you looted the hell out of his hideout.
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