| Even though you were a squat child, you always wanted to become a Fighter, like your father and his father before him. You got your wish when your hometown of Klatch was attacked by a horde of Horror Mice. You got your face handed to you, but it cemented your desire to fight. As luck would have it, as you were passing through the land of Yarbleshire, you stopped at the inn in the quiet hamlet of Cheddarwurst, and heard the local barber talking about the ancient dungeon that the town had (perhaps ill-advisedly) been built next to, and the fantastic Silver Idol of Englebert that was purported to be hidden there. Without bothering to ask why nobody had managed to recover it already, you set out on your very first quest. You had a good handle on it until you had to actually go in the dungeon. That was when you fell in a beartrap, got attacked by jocks, and got your bung bitten off by a lich. Bruised but unbroken, you readied your Greyhawk Army knife and marched forth into the darkness, where you were immediately captured by the Dragon Warlock Grunwold's army of underdeveloped goblins. They hauled you before their master, but got bored and wandered off during his long gloating speech. Seeing your chance, you pushed the evil dweeb into his own swinging razor-sharp pendulum, and escaped to claim your reward from the grateful people of New Brunswick.
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