| Even though you were a drunken child, you always wanted to become a Fighter, like your father and his father before him. You got your wish when your hometown of Cold Crick was attacked by a horde of Horror Tigers. You got your arse handed to you, but it cemented your desire to fight. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Pitlick, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of honey wine. He told you about the great plague of tigers that had beset the entire region of Waxtoff, and of the rumor that the evil Sorcerer Diabolicus 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 doing a radical job until you got attacked by more jocks than you could handle. You were lucky to get out of there with your knee intact! But all that drama couldn't stop you. You'd never given up on anything, not even your childhood quest to exfoliate all the gerbil in your hometown of Pitlick. So you kept going, right into the comic shop of the evil Wizard Blackfist. Fortunately for you, he was out for lunch at the time, so you could grab some loot and get out before you got your face handed to you.
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