| Even though you were a raven-haired child, you always wanted to become a Fighter, like your father and his father before him. You got your wish when your hometown of Morpork was attacked by a horde of Frost Bears. You got your arse handed to you, but it cemented your desire to fight. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Flytrap, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of ale. He told you about the great plague of hagfish that had beset the entire region of Febreezia, and of the rumor that the evil Devil Lord Badfella 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 doing a killer job but then you wandered into a room totally full of lizardmen, plus a lich, which is weird because you would have figured they'd have killed each other. They made a pretty good attempt at killing you, though. Bruised but unbroken, you readied your footaxe and marched forth into the darkness, where you were immediately captured by the Vampire Necromancer Diabolicus's army of nubile bullywugs. They hauled you before their master, but got bored and wandered off during his long gloating speech. Seeing your chance, you pushed the evil poseur into his own iron maiden, and escaped to claim your reward from the grateful people of Farc'b'n.
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