Wolfric the Wild, they call me.
Who are “they”? Let’s not worry about that right now. All you need to know is that Wolfric is single, a master at jousting and loves to refer to himself in the third person. No doubt you’re wondering how he measures up to the cocksure Geoffrey Longsword, and Wolfic will tell you right now that he doesn’t stand a chance. In the time it’s taken you to read this paragraph, I’ve already put my mace into the side of his head multiple times.
So what if he’s good at swordplay? Inching forward ever so slowly, waving a blade back and forth with no sense of control? A fool’s game, I tell you. Give me a fine steed and a mighty lance any day of the week, or preferably, every few minutes, since Wolfic likes to call a tournament several times a day. Some would call my methods unorthodox, but that’s just Cedric of Rotherwood talking smack. He won’t be saying much when I launch a boulder right into his stupid smug face and take his castle.
They all laugh at me, but they won’t find it so funny when I take all of their land. Then Wolfric is going to save the princess. And make love to her. Sexually. If you know what I mean.
Hehe. Oh yeah. Five gold pieces a day. Can’t keep the ladies off of me.
… Wolfric the Wild is very lonely.