| Lacking the patience to be a Mage and the brawn to be a Fighter, you decided to be the next best thing: a professional chef. Sadly, your recipe for charred deviled eggs was unappreciated by the plebes in your tiny hometown of Pig-in-a-Poke, so you became a professional Thief instead. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Phlegm, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of zima. He told you about the great plague of eels that had beset the entire region of Limberford, and of the rumor that the evil Sorcerer Arc'klor was the source of the unpleasantness. You resolved to find the villain and dispatch him, mostly to get the drunk guy to shut up. You were kickin' ass and chewin' bubblegum until you had to fend off half a dozen barbarians with your skull trapped in a beartrap. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the owlbear showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked. But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Dragon Knight Frazool held court over his horde of sexy dire dwarves, and with uncountable swings of your mace (and a few well-placed attacks of opportunity), you finally slew the horrible idiot and rode back to town to claim your glory (and reward).
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