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Myself

I promise to keep this brief but you will forgive me if I ramble a little, it is a subject I am both familiar and fond of.

Each time I play a new game, I'll post a review of it here. Here's an example of a format I might use.

Perhaps I Should Start before my time, 'tis a good a place as any I suppose. Porthshire was a small community in the South Eastern corner of Cymra, unkown and protected for many years. Surronded by high cliffs to South and East, and by dense woodland leading to mountains to the North and West. How the Shires Ancsetors found the site is unsure, no Histories we're ever recorded and no songs ever sung. However the discovery was made is irrelevant, what is known is that once we had arrived we remained protected for centuries unarmed by natural or unnatural means. So secure was our new found home that the man who had led us there, grew bored, restless and left. He was "Thaine", which means "King" in our tongue. He was the last Thaine.

Unable to crown a new Thaine untill they we're certain the old was dead, and being unprepared and unwilling to travel outside of their comfortable new holes. They sat and they waited for his return. Decades later, quite unexpected, a Norse trading company walked into our midst. They had had no need for lookouts or gateguards for generations adn as such they we're quite unaware of the visitors untill the first Hobbit left his hole and stepped into the late morning sun.

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Upon gathering the wise, they approached their Nordic visitors with caution. Once the initial language barrier had been breached it became apparent that Thaine had directed the Norscans to the Shire to trade and to feast with his people. The Norscans brought forth Veal and Mead, and the Hobbits brought forth fish, cattle and wine from their vineyards. The feasting and revelations lasted for days, and is during this period the town Elders suggested to me that I was concieved. It would certainly explain my size over my kinfolk. After two weeks the Norse prepared to leave, they had traded fur bed spreads for woolen garments and their mead for our wine. They left with food in their bellies and warmth in their hearts. Every year from then on they would return, during the height of winter and the feasting would last for days and we would look forward to the next time before they had left.
As I grew I would watch the traders with great curiosity, my Mother died in child birth and nobody could identify my Father. If he ever was amongst those traders, he never stepped forward and he never told of me to anyone. Bastard of birth and bastard of species I remain.

As the years passed the Norse made paths through the woodlands and over the mountains. This was what allowed the Fomor to come. They arrived in the dead of night, rushing from house to hole, burning as they went. Attacking the old, the week and the young first. The rest of us stood. Pulling the standard bearer from my roof I charged the closest of the beasts, driving the metal shaft through its screaming body.

As I drove that shaft through, something in me awoke, perhaps the Nordic blood, perhaps just a feeling i've never felt before, anger. The rest of the battle is a blur. I awoke to find the Green Knight over me, healing my wounds. I left the survivors to rebuild and went with Robyn to my first Renewal. But i have rambled enough and im sure you know the rest.

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