| You grew up on the wet streets of the great Gold 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. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Sto Lat, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of lager. He told you about the great plague of cows that had beset the entire region of Lurkmoor, and of the rumor that the evil Lord Xxyrg was the source of the unpleasantness. You resolved to find the villain and dispatch him, mostly to get the drunk guy to shut up. At first it was a real breeze, but then you wandered into a room totally full of orcs, plus a hellhound, which is weird because you would have figured they'd have killed each other. They made a pretty good attempt at killing you, though. Bruised but unbroken, you readied your spoon and marched forth into the darkness, where you were immediately captured by the Fire Sorcerer Englebert's army of buxom ents. They hauled you before their master, but got bored and wandered off during his long gloating speech. Seeing your chance, you pushed the evil has-been into his own swinging razor-sharp pendulum, and escaped to claim your reward from the grateful people of Burblegroat.
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