| An ancient prophecy foretold of a child born in the city of Stoatsford with a boot-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. As luck would have it, you found yourself wandering through the sleepy village of Spazmotic just as the village people (you know, the construction worker, the cop, the Indian) were beset by the evil Devil Lord Spitemarmot, who had poisoned the town's boa constrictor population. Against your better judgment (and with the hope of fat loot to come), you agreed to try and bring the villain to justice. It was pretty easy, until you got your calf caught in a succubus and had to gnaw it off to escape. Fortunately, you don't need that to be a hero... but you will sort of miss it. But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Grim Sorcerer Baaaal held court over his horde of raven-haired thieves, and with uncountable swings of your pike (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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