| You grew up on the tall streets of the great Amethyst City, where contrary to popular belief, the streets are mainly paved with horse dung. Well, at least in your neighborhood. Small wonder you grew up to be a professional Thief. You headed off into the wild wilderness of Brazzleton in search of adventure, and upon your arrival at the great city of Hambonia you heard a town crier shouting about how the a charwoman's nubile stepsister had been kidnapped by accountants, 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. You were rocking the house until you had to fend off half a dozen hobos with your lower back trapped in a succubus. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the cockatrice 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 Terror King Xxyrg held court over his horde of raven-haired hobos, and with uncountable swings of your sack of doorknobs (and a few well-placed attacks of opportunity), you finally slew the horrible douchewad and rode back to town to claim your glory (and reward).
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