Wargs……….at first glance they look like cute, cuddly fur balls of fluffiness. And some will even let you come in nice and close to them. And they will give you the cute little puppy dog stare that almost no one can resist. Unless of course you have the 12k cuteness resist legacy on your LI. This extremely rare rune that can only be earned through the killing of every single scurrying bug in the Mines of Moria, you know the little grey ones that never attack that we all ignore……anyway where was I………O yes, wargs……
So, you look into those sad little puppy dog eyes and think to yourself, I know I’ll give him a good scratch behind the ears and a belly rub and that should cheer the little fella up. And you reach out and……you pull back a bloody stump……..and all the sudden there are five of them. The cute little puppy dog stare is gone now. Instead all you can see in their eyes is a big piece of bacon that is wearing your clothes.
Now, we can’t hold these little fellas responsible for their actions. After all, these poor little fellas were abandoned out here in the harsh plains of the Ettenmoors. Some heartless freep had them when they were puppies and while they were small and fuzzy and cute everything was happy and joyous. They played with them and paid them attention and gave them a warm place to sleep and all the bacon they could eat.
Then, the little warg puppies begin to grow. And there coat isn’t quite as fuzzy as it once was. And their size makes it harder and harder to play with them and not break bones. And there apatite grows as well and all the pigs in the town are in danger of becoming warg chow. And the mean old hag down the street files a complaint just cause Mr. Fuzzy ate her stupid, fat, lazy, and prize winning pig……So, you are forced to take your faithful pet somewhere away from Bree. Far away so the crazy pitchfork wielding fanatics wont skewer your fuzzy (but not as fuzzy as he once was) friend. And you take him to the Ettenmoors.
Other than the troops in GV there really isn’t anyone out here. And they never really leave their keeps anyway. Unless, you count the penal colony of hobbits. But, there not really people so whatever……
And you try to explain to your fuzzy friend why you have to dump him out here, for his own good. And he tries to follow you home. And you chase him off. Scream and yell at him. Throw stones and sticks. And he runs off, terrified and confused. Hurt and lonely and lost.
And the other wargs that were dummped out here find him. They pull him into the pack and give him a new home. They teach him how to hunt and survive in this harsh place without a fire to lie by. Without his blankie that the mean ole freep didn’t even remember to bring when he dumped you out here.
So, as your standing there about to die staring at the stump where your hand used to be……..don’t hate the wargs. Its not their falt that their a cute, fuzzy (but not as fuzzy as they used to be) ball of irresistable wargie goodness on the outside and a cold hearted, blood thirsty killing machine on the inside. They didn’t ask to be dumped out here and become this killing machine in order to survive.
Blame that heartless, lazy freep that dumped that once cute and fuzzy (but not as fuzzy as he once was) warg out here to fend for himself with no blankie or bacon or fire to sleep by.
Also, you can prevent this unfortunate event from happening to you in another way. Befriend a fat Hobbit and have him travel with you in the Ettenmoors. When the wargs appear, simply trip said fat Hobbit and run like hell. You don’t need to out run the wargs per say…..just the Hobbit. And remember, hobbits aren’t real people so its no big loss to feed them to the wargs. The fat part is important. The fatter the little walking bacon slab is the longer you will have to get away while the wargs feast.
Thankyou and goodnight.
