You grew up the son of a milkmaid, but decided such a profession was lacking in excitement. After much hard training, (if you never dig ditches and fill them back in again, it'll be too soon) you finally became a mighty Fighter.

One fateful day, you were strolling through the quiet village of Stubborn Mule when you met the town "seamstress". That worthy begged you to try and rescue the Dauphin's half-witted grandfather, who had been kidnapped by skeletons. Having little to do except save the world from an evil sorcerer or whatever, you took the quest.

You were doing really well until you had to fend off half a dozen tramps with your bung trapped in a beartrap. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the mind flayer showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked.

But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Demon Barbarian Unpleasantor held court over his horde of nubile orcs, and with uncountable swings of your "Rod of Lordly Might" (if you know what I mean) (and a few well-placed attacks of opportunity), you finally slew the horrible bimbo and rode back to town to claim your glory (and reward).

Loot:bastard brass knuckles of tramp slaying
marmoset's flail of gnoll summoning
endless flagon of bandit tequiza

Another!