| You always knew that the village of Molehill wasn't big enough for you -- after all, it was just the one hut, and it was a small one. So, when you came of age, you decided to make a name for yourself as a Fighter. (You parents never gave you a name. You were hoping for "Curly".) At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Buttole, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of barley wine. He told you about the great plague of fish that had beset the entire region of Burglechester, and of the rumor that the evil Lawyer Krampus was the source of the unpleasantness. You resolved to find the villain and dispatch him, mostly to get the drunk guy to shut up. You were kickin' ass and chewin' bubblegum until you had to fend off half a dozen jocks with your head trapped in a gelatinous cube. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the bulette showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked. But, unwilling to let that keep you from glory, you gritted your teeth and wielded your Greyhawk Army knife, and cut your way through the hordes of goblins that stood between you and your goal. At last you found the lair of Frost King Morgar, who quite unexpectedly turned out to be your long-lost daughter, but you killed the hoser anyway. And thus was the land freed from tyranny, and you earned yourself a fat reward!
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