| It was hard growing up as a squire's son in the tiny hamlet of Pig-in-a-Poke, in the land of Bistrebury Grove. 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 Farc'b'n was being systematically sacked by a band of marauding gangsters (who had already looted and burned the villages of Ironforge, Bobcat, and Klatch), and the ludicrous reward being offered for the arm of their leader, you decided it was finally time to put your mettle to the test. Everything was going great until you had to fend off half a dozen goblins with your thigh trapped in a meat grinder. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the githyanki showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked. Nevertheless, you fought your way through evil overlord's crypt, dispatching accountants left and right, and finally arrived at the throne room of the Shadow Necromancer Woundedclavicle. After a long and dramatic battle, you plunged your footaxe into his ankle. The entire dungeon unexpectedly began to collapse as soon as the evil lunatic was dead, but you managed to escape with your life, and claimed your reward from the grateful people of Brazzleton.
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