| You grew up on the dodgy streets of the great Emerald City, where contrary to popular belief, the streets are mainly paved with horse dung. Well, at least in your neighborhood. Small wonder you grew up to be a professional Thief. As luck would have it, you found yourself wandering through the sleepy village of Dropseat just as the village people (you know, the construction worker, the cop, the Indian) were beset by the evil Witchlord Blackfist, who had poisoned the town's puppy population. Against your better judgment (and with the hope of fat loot to come), you agreed to try and bring the villain to justice. At first it was a real breeze, until you dropped your staff in a lava pool and couldn't get it back out. Wouldn't you know it, that was when the orcs showed up. Nevertheless, you fought your way through evil overlord's strip mall, dispatching kobolds left and right, and finally arrived at the throne room of the Ice Warlock Diablolo. After a long and dramatic battle, you plunged your bastard sword into his arm. The entire dungeon unexpectedly began to collapse as soon as the evil douchebag was dead, but you managed to escape with your life, and claimed your reward from the grateful people of Shamablamaroth.
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