| Ever since you were a child in the meager village of Cold Crick, you wanted to become a great Wizard and learn the great mysteries of the universe, such as why 'abbreviated' is such a long word. The answer turned out to not be very interesting, but by that time you were a Wizard anyway. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Whacking, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of sarsaparilla. He told you about the great plague of lions that had beset the entire region of Febreezia, and of the rumor that the evil Knight Badfella was the source of the unpleasantness. You resolved to find the villain and dispatch him, mostly to get the drunk guy to shut up. You were rocking the house until you had to fend off half a dozen desperados with your solar plexus trapped in a antlion pit. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the carrion crawler showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked. But, unwilling to let that keep you from glory, you gritted your teeth and wielded your spear, and cut your way through the hordes of indigent native tribesmen that stood between you and your goal. At last you found the lair of Blood Wizard Diabolicus, who quite unexpectedly turned out to be your long-lost second cousin, but you killed the tard anyway. And thus was the land freed from tyranny, and you earned yourself a fat reward!
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