| An ancient prophecy foretold of a child born in the city of Keaton with a bag of money-shaped birthmark, who would grow up to be the greatest Wizard ever known. You have a birthmark like that, but at first you were only a sort of okay Wizard. Everyone has to start somewhere, I guess. You headed off into the wild wilderness of Marmosettia in search of adventure, and upon your arrival at the great city of Winklesbury you heard a town crier shouting about how the the Duke of Wibbleford's tattooed cousin had been kidnapped by bandits, and the massive reward for their rescue. Not wanting to get in the way of the plot railroad, you set out on your new quest. There was no drama in the LBC until you had to actually go in the dungeon. That was when you fell in a lava pool, got attacked by tramps, and got your groin bitten off by a mind flayer. But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Terror Necromancer Unpleasantor held court over his horde of nubile gunslingers, and with uncountable swings of your bastard sword (and a few well-placed attacks of opportunity), you finally slew the horrible asshat and rode back to town to claim your glory (and reward).
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