| Inspired by the great deeds of your mother, Midnight Dudley, you knew from an early age you wanted to be a Fighter. After a scant 4 years of training, you were finally ready to seek your fortune in the large, indifferent world. At the tiny tavern on the outskirts of the Village of Morpork, you were trapped in a conversation with a man who had clearly had more than his fill of barley pop. He told you about the great plague of frogs that had beset the entire region of Keaton, and of the rumor that the evil Sorcerer Badfella 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 weren't having any problems until you had to fend off half a dozen gunslingers with your groin trapped in a beartrap. Fortunately, most of them ran away when the rakshasa showed up, and you played dead until it left. That's not very heroic, but hey, it worked. But all that drama couldn't stop you. You'd never given up on anything, not even your childhood quest to rake all the earwig in your hometown of Sudoku. So you kept going, right into the owlry of the evil Warlock Diabolicus. Fortunately for you, he was out for lunch at the time, so you could grab some loot and get out before you got your solar plexus handed to you.
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