I. Anroi's earliest memories were of miracles. He remembered sitting on his father's shoulders, raised above the heads of the little crowd that had gathered on the village common, and watching wonders take place before his awed eyes. The men in robes made fire dance in the air. They made beautiful creatures of multicolored light run and frolic across the grass. Blue lions pounced on green deer, bursting into showers of purple doves that winged their way into the sky. Djinn popped out of lamps and threw incandescent explosions over the delighted audience.
II. With such visions in his head, the drudgery of rustic life seemed meaningless. Anroi wanted more. He wanted magic. Young as he was, he knew he didn't have the scholarly mind or innate power to become a sorceror. But he longed to be around magic, to possess artifacts laden with its sorcerous energy. And when he was fifteen, he believed his chance had come. Robed men drove their wagon into the village, asking for a good meal and some provisions to take on the road. In exchange, they offered to entertain everyone with a demonstration of spellcraft. Perhaps they were the same men whom he'd seen as a child. In any event, the spectacle they put on was just as fantastic.
III. Anroi left his village that night. He followed the road the robed men had taken, and came upon their camp. They were amused when he said he'd serve them in exchange for magic items. But they were old men, and knew that having a strong youth in their employ would be useful. So they accepted, and heaped chores upon his head -- promising him treasures in return. However, even in his naivety, Anroi soon came to learn the truth. Though the men had magic, it was simply that of illusion. They delighted simple villagers and townspeople, and thus earned their living, but had no true power to speak of. They couldn't give him what he wanted, so he left them to find real wizardry.
IV. That search became the beginning of a life of adventure. Anroi fell in with a party of adventurers, one with a genuine mage, and joined them on their exploits. The look of joy on his face when he held his first magical item -- just a poorly enchanted dagger -- amused his new companions beyond measure. The experience only sharpened his hunger. Over the passing years, Anroi collected as many magic weapons and pieces of armor as he could find, filling entire rooms in the house he'd hired out with gold from his dungeon plunder. It was in the pursuit of artifacts to add to this collection that he encountered a mage named Guilbert.
V. Guilbert informed Anroi that he was the greatest sorcerer in the history of cheese. This confused the adventurer, but he knew that cheese had been around for a considerable length of time, an thus he was duly impressed. He asked Guilbert to enchant his armor, and the mad mage agreed -- on condition that he gather the reagents for a spell Guilbert was working on. Anroi did as bidden, collecting sundry nonsensical articles for him, slaying monsters when one of their body parts was needed. And the mage kept his half of the bargain, imbuing Anroi's armor with eldritch purple energy that would smite anyone eating blue cheese or oysters in his vicinity.