| An ancient prophecy foretold of a child born in the city of Phleberron with a face-shaped birthmark, who would grow up to be the greatest Wizard ever known. You have a birthmark like that, but at first you were only a sort of okay Wizard. Everyone has to start somewhere, I guess. As luck would have it, as you were passing through the land of Febreezia, you stopped at the inn in the quiet hamlet of Pittsburgh, and heard the local midwife talking about the ancient necropolis that the town had (perhaps ill-advisedly) been built next to, and the fantastic Gold Idol of Frazool that was purported to be hidden there. Without bothering to ask why nobody had managed to recover it already, you set out on your very first quest. At first it was a real breeze, until you had to fend off half a dozen jerks with your ear trapped in a awkward conversation. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the shoggoth showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked. Nevertheless, you fought your way through evil overlord's strip mall, dispatching lizardmen left and right, and finally arrived at the throne room of the Fire Lord Unpleasantor. After a long and dramatic battle, you plunged your battleaxe into his calf. The entire dungeon unexpectedly began to collapse as soon as the evil wuss was dead, but you managed to escape with your life, and claimed your reward from the grateful people of X'tn'ch'roth.
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