My user name is obvious from this:
Evil volcano cultists abducted me as a baby. I was saved from mass baby sacrifice by two paladins, one a wise-cracking rookie representing St. Cuthbert and the other a by-the-book veteran spreading the word of Pelor. In an explosion-filled magic carpet chase through the underground geyser system, the head cultist managed to possess me just before biting it. I was taken to an orphanage where eventually a master of kung-fu adopted me, recognizing me potential even at such an early age. I spent my childhood learning how to punch and kick, but mostly to seek inner peace. At night, I warred with the spirit of the cultist in my dreams, besting him in his weakened form, but I slowly came to realize that one day, he would overpower me. At the age of nine, I fled the monastery and fell into the hands of some gnomish sailors, who tried to sell me into slavery to an Orcish cabal of alchemists. The sale was interrupted by a raiding party of gnolls, though. In the ensuing battle, my left arms was crippled while stealing a worg and attempting to ride to safety. I trudged on through the deserts and plains and foothills, subsisting off of the (un)mercy of nature and fleeing the daily hordes of monsters and unnameable entities. After weeks of travel, I made it to a trading hub and apprenticed myself to the mad cleric of Olidamarra who healed my arm....several times after repeatedly crippling it for laughs. For years, I was used as guinea pig for the cleric's wizard friends, gaining all manner of maladies and additions to my physical form. During a boring afternoon, the evil cultist guy in my soul finally took over and promptly murdered the cleric, using my mouth to scream something about "violations" and weeping profusely. I regained control weeks afterward to realize that I was suddenly a famous adventurer, having defeated some guy which was totally bad ass (even though I don't remember it. But I do have a wooden fish souvenir thingy.)