| When you were growing up in the little town of Frog, you always wanted to be a mighty Ranger. You ended up being a Fighter instead, because you didn't have the right prime requisites. In the fiefdom of Yarbleshire, in the unpleasant-smelling backwater of Malph, you found an inn with cheap zima and spent the night carousing. There, you heard a tale of the forgotten treasure of the Sapphire Forests, lost for ages during the time of the great winnowing. You decided to seek the treasure yourself, heedless of the literal mountain of skeletons of those who had tried before you. Everything was hunky-dory at first, but you didn't expect to have to bareknuckle-fight all those orphans. That rust monster picked the total worst time to eat your morningstar. But, unwilling to let that keep you from glory, you gritted your teeth and wielded your "Rod of Lordly Might" (if you know what I mean), and cut your way through the hordes of desperados that stood between you and your goal. At last you found the lair of Grim Sorcerer Woundblade, who quite unexpectedly turned out to be your long-lost nephew, 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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