By mfpantst 2 Comments
Thus we begin with the tale of Ugos, a human Champion descending from the great warriors of the Rohan people. He likes long winded conversation, windy beaches and sandy shores. Not. Really he just likes killing those fucking wolves. So some evil overcame Ugos, one can only imagine it was not his fault, and he found himself in a jail. Fortunately the wiley strider came by to free Ugos of his burdens. A few conversations later, Ugos did not become some evil fiend by accident, rather the brigands have captured him as well as other fair folk from the most wonderful and picturesque Bree-Lands. After saving the hobbits, one of which must be related to THE fellowship (or all those damn shorties are inbred) we return to the fair Bree-Lands, for the moment safe from the Brigands.
My recollection has this all happening on the eve of the midnight hour, but my recollection also goes fuzzy as to what time this morrow I actually went to lay down for the night. What I am sure of is this: I spent the next unknown quantity of time learning my way as a Champion. I can report lots of button mashing to kill those fucking wolves, and a considerable quantity of selling junk stolen off those fucking wolves, and from killing the bandits. Though my title would say otherwise, Ugos the Wary, I found it generally beneficial to play the agressor, always carrying two weapons at once and always killing first, asking questions later.
Alas, my fair readers, this story must take its end however, as I must rest for the day. Our kin to the south are in need of help, as are the damn shorties in my new homeland whom I saved from the Brigands' prison. Quite an adventure must lay in wait for Ugos the Wary, so rest is certainly in order.
Until next time ----