Even though you were a underdeveloped child, you always wanted to become a Fighter, like your father and his father before him. You got your wish when your hometown of Bobcat was attacked by a horde of Blood Goats. You got your skull handed to you, but it cemented your desire to fight.

In the fiefdom of Winklesbury, in the unpleasant-smelling backwater of Dumpington, you found an inn with cheap ale and spent the night carousing. There, you heard a tale of the forgotten treasure of the Silver Canyons, lost for ages during the time of the great famine. You decided to seek the treasure yourself, heedless of the literal mountain of skeletons of those who had tried before you.

You were doing a wicked job at first, but you didn't expect to have to bareknuckle-fight all those skeletons. That weretiger picked the total worst time to eat your flail.

You holed up in a small storeroom with a lockable door, and spent several weeks resting until your hitpoints were back to full. Then, keeping a careful eye out for kobolds, you made your way to the lair of Vampire Lawyer Badfella and the object of your quest. You thought he nearly had you when he summoned a foul gazebo to his aid, but you put paid to the beast with your bastard sword and knocked the villain screaming into a gelatinous cube with a well-placed kick to the ear. At last, the treasure was yours!

Loot:sack of doorknobs of patriarchal misogyny
endless flagon of gypsy root beer
+2 coin of clairvoyance