| When you were growing up in the little town of Dumpington, you always wanted to be a mighty Barbarian. You ended up being a Fighter instead, because you didn't have the right prime requisites. Your life changed one day, changed irrevocably -- and perhaps not for the better -- when you were wandering down the quaint bucolic dusty paths of the tiny farming village of Phlegm. There, you met the Grand Vizier's drunken stepchild, who gave you broad hints as to the last known location of the long-lost Silver Penguin. Recognizing the street value of such a rare treasure, you set off to find it. There was no drama in the LBC until you had to actually go in the dungeon. That was when you fell in a antlion pit, got attacked by gunslingers, and got your arm bitten off by a rakshasa. But, you put on your brave face, and made your way through the caverns and caves to where the Blood Witchlord Shadowstar held court over his horde of bright-eyed ents, and with uncountable swings of your bardiche (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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