| It was hard growing up as a farmhand's son in the tiny hamlet of Mudhole, in the land of Bafflesbury. 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.) One fateful day, you were strolling through the quiet village of Piehole when you met the town town crier. That worthy begged you to try and rescue a charwoman's red-headed niece, who had been kidnapped by accountants. Having little to do except save the world from an evil sorcerer or whatever, you took the quest. You were rocking the house until you had to actually go in the dungeon. That was when you fell in a spiked pit, got attacked by skeletons, and got your thigh bitten off by a rakshasa. However, you managed to overcome the odds (and your injuries), and after a lengthy crawl through a crypt infested with bandits, you finally came upon the lair of the Frost Sorcerer Grimslow, who was guarding the object of your quest. The evil fiend fell before your spoon, and the land was finally free of his foul shenanigans. You made your way back to civilization, and basked in the glory of your success (and the reward money).
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