|Lacking the patience to be a Mage and the brawn to be a Fighter, you decided to be the next best thing: a professional chef. Sadly, your recipe for poached creamed radishes was unappreciated by the plebes in your tiny hometown of Dumpington, so you became a professional Thief instead.|
One fateful day, you were strolling through the quiet village of Dropseat when you met the town farmhand. That worthy begged you to try and rescue the Lord of Morcestecershire's fat second cousin, who had been kidnapped by jocks. Having little to do except save the world from an evil sorcerer or whatever, you took the quest.
You weren't having any problems up until the part where you found yourself trapped between a crocodile's mouth and a succubus, with a weretiger bearing down upon you. That strawberry was pretty delicious, but it's didn't really make up for the damage to your knee.
Nevertheless, you fought your way through evil overlord's strip mall, dispatching orphans left and right, and finally arrived at the throne room of the Death Necromancer Dave. After a long and dramatic battle, you plunged your halberd into his solar plexus. The entire dungeon unexpectedly began to collapse as soon as the evil buttface was dead, but you managed to escape with your life, and claimed your reward from the grateful people of Hambonia.