| As a baby you were stolen from your parents by a band of orphans and raised in a dark and wild forest. They regarded you as one of their own, but the time came for you to make your own name as a professional Thief. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Mudhole, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of micheladas. He told you about the great plague of locusts that had beset the entire region of Blurstishire, and of the rumor that the evil Witchlord Grimtooth was the source of the unpleasantness. You resolved to find the villain and dispatch him, mostly to get the drunk guy to shut up. It was pretty easy, at first, but you didn't expect to have to bareknuckle-fight all those accountants. That rakshasa picked the total worst time to eat your bardiche. But all that drama couldn't stop you. You'd never given up on anything, not even your childhood quest to groom all the rat in your hometown of Hamlet. So you kept going, right into the tannery of the evil Witchlord Splitvampire bat. Fortunately for you, he was out for lunch at the time, so you could grab some loot and get out before you got your nipple handed to you.
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