Resultados de "Eric Ugland" en Todas las categorias

Straight out of the West (or, you know, somewhere through a gloom portal), in a thunder of hooves (but they're kinda like giant turtle hooves, if you can picture it?), comes Montana Coggeshall, gun (sword) slinger. Sure, he's survived Fiends' Night and an all-out goblin war. But for his people in Coggeshall to truly be safe, Montana needs to go out and find the source of all these crazy attacks.

As usual, Montana Coggeshall is hell-bent on doing what's right, even if what's right isn't exactly what's wise. So he embarks on a quest to vanquish the corrupted ursus, a threat so large they could destroy the entire world of iNcarn8. Does Montana head out after months of training for cold weather conditions, amassing an army, and strategizing with his top aides? Not really. It's more like he just walks out of his holding one day with a guide and the members of his hirð. They're just a bunch of angry teddy bears, right?

When Montana first started playing in iNcarn8, his new game life, he just wanted to be one of the good guys for a change. But despite his impressive stats and incredible heroics, even his followers are just plain scared of him. Trouble keeps pouring down Montana, even in the remote, supposedly safe holding he's building into his dukedom.

Montana Coggeshall is feeling the squeeze - and not just because of his new leather pants from the goddess Eona. His little safeholding in the ruthless world of Vuldranni is under siege. On both sides. At the front is Lord Caticorix, a grade-A Imperial flunkey if there ever was one. He's clearly ridiculous, but the army he brought with him might not be. Plus they're bent on blocking Coggeshall from getting any food or supplies from the outside world.

He's tried to ignore them for too long. But the long-simmering conflict between Montana's holding at Coggeshall and the Night Goblins who also occupy the valley is about to boil over. Usually, goblins aren't anything to write home about: an enemy without much size, intellect, or weaponry. But these goblins? Well, that's just not the case. These are goblins with limitless resources, never-before-seen tactics, and horrifying monsters at their disposal. Worst of all, they don't fear death in the slightest. They just might force a good guy to become what he has always struggled to defeat.

We join Montana, recently returned from an impromptu study abroad trip, a bit wiser, a bit broader in perspective, and a lot freaked out by the once-dead person who's currently in his bedroom. Possible zombie sightings aside, he's finally ready to take his job as Duke seriously. And just in time too - not only are the politics of the capital rapidly closing in on Montana's little valley holding, but there are also goblins to negotiate with. Plus, that cult threatening to take the lives of his citizens.

He thought it was the end, and his gun sat ready to make sure. But an oddball offer from his last friend comes at the literal last second. Curiosity gets the best of him, and he finds himself sucked into iNcarn8, a game claiming to be a whole new life. Now, as Montana, the larger-than-life tank warrior, he has one more last time to get his life right.

Montana Coggeshall, duke of Coggeshall, defeater of dungeons, he of far fewer intelligence points than is probably recommended, is finally ready to start building his dukedom. He just needs one more thing before he can leave Osterstadt: a few hardworking friends to join him on this adventure. Well, and some lumber. And nails and whatnot. And enough food to get through the winter. And probably some more gold.

Montana's new life in Vuldranni, the medieval fantasy game world he lucked into, isn't quite the tranquil extended fishing trip he'd been hoping for. But you gotta admit, he's doing pretty well for himself. Now he's Montana Coggeshall, heir to a dukedom. If he can get his crew to Osterstadt and claim it in time.

What do you do when the game resets around you? Just when Montana thought he had life in Vuldranni figured out, the rug is pulled out from under him. He's alone once again, but now he's in the crosshairs of the man who would be emperor, and a whole host of people are counting on Montana to provide a safe haven for them. Montana has one hope of actually completing his quest of forming a dukedom: he needs to bust Nikolai out of prison. A prison that no one has ever escaped from alive.

Up until now, Montana's journey really only went one direction: up. But now he's back at square one, stuck on top of a mountain with only the most basic gear to help get him back to Coggeshall. It's going to be a long walk. But not a boring one.

The most dangerous night of the year is upon Coggeshall. Fiends' Night, when the boundary between Vuldranni and hell is the weakest. And so hell comes out to play. To survive the night, Montana must put his entire holding on lockdown and turn hastily made cave apartments into an actual, inviting home for thousands of Coggeshall residents. Most of whom don't really know or like each other. And all of whom have different ideas of what needs to be done on Fiends' Night.

Up until now, Montana's gotten by pretending he's a regular guy. Well, a regular, overpowered, god-defeating guy who maybe just learned his hair is in all the wrong places. But the big city is calling, and in order to succeed there, Montana must actually prove himself a deserving duke. If Glaton finds him lacking, Coggeshall could be forced into even further isolation. But if Glaton falls in love with him, the regular guy from Motor City could end up with limitless power, in charge of it all. And just like that, the fate of the entire Empire is in Montana's hands.

The continued adventures and misadventures of Montana of Coggeshall.

Well, he's the last elf standing. It's confusing not being human anymore. But being the only living member of the Biscuit's Union has its benefits. No need to take on shifts baking cookies, for one. No one telling Clyde what to do. No one.... You have been offered a quest by the Biscuit's Union: Rebuild the Guild. Reform the guild by having at least eight members in good standing by the end of one week.

Say hello to the new and improved Clyde Hatchett...who's only a level-four nothing. He's on a (seemingly never-ending) quest to get back to his life in Glaton. And now, all that stands in his way are the Empire-hating Carchedonians, a death cult, and a traitorous party member. Oh, and a mythical city that very probably doesn't exist.

"Has your life here been so difficult? You seem to fail upward at every opportunity." So says Careena, the hag teaching Clyde Hatchett how to use magic. It certainly doesn't feel like that to Clyde, who's still got a day job scraping mud (at least he hopes it's mud) out of monster pits. And yet, Clyde's found himself at the center of a massive conspiracy to kill the Emperor. He's the only one with proof that could save the man, and take down an entire network of corrupt nobles, evil slavers, and power-hungry despots.

Just yesterday, Ben was a petty criminal getting by on fleecing New York’s one-percenters. Today, he's got a new face, a new name, and a new world to navigate. And Ben’s thinking maybe this time around, he’ll use his skills at disarming and deceiving to help out people other than himself. Maybe. Watching a medieval City Guard fight off a 20-foot-tall ooze that crawled up from the sewers will make you think twice about life decisions.

Clyde Hatchett and the rest of the Skull & Thrones better play their cards right - otherwise their newly formed guild will fall in a war with the Iron Silents, the overpowered immortals fond of spawn-camping and, well, anything that puts them ahead. So much for resting on laurels, huh?

Ginger Mitchell accomplished the impossible; the former call girl and now sort-of private investigator got into all of this to bring her mother’s killer to justice. But Darlene is still on the loose. It was bad enough when the woman was manipulating Ginger from afar, but now Darlene is in Portland wreaking up-close-and-personal havoc under the assumed identity of Isabelle Dunkirk.