Ah yes! The adventure begins…rather the confusion sets in! Dreams of conquering, being canonized as a saint and voted coolest guy in Runescape were quickly replaced with trying to get out of my own way and avoid motion sickness as I aimlessly spun around trying to find my way. I bumped into several locals, some of whom were happy to share a conversation or a few dicey looking minnows. The minnows quickly provided energy for me to continue my assault of awful as my faux brave looks and posture were fooling no one, least of all me. I stumbled upon a member of the living dead which gave me the opportunity to exorcise some of my frustration in the form of excessive force as I manically butchered the beast. I soon found a comrade in arms, my friend Gundrik who mentored me in the ways of awesome by leading me in face to face combat with Morwenna the Cruel. I like to think I bravely conquered this vermin with sword in hand, the reality is she most likely spun herself to death following my aimless wanderings and misguided swings of the sword. Nonetheless, this plague of the undead was even more dead than before, thanks to me. Upon exiting the church I was greeted by throngs of leaping, cheering admirers! Could this be the fame I had longed for? But alas, these dreams too were quickly dashed as I now had to find a boat and meet some new friends to shear some sheep. Upon consulting my map I discovered that I was in a land called 'Nowhere Close to Where You're Supposed to Be.' I quickly bid my friend Gundrik adieu and boarded the ship in pursuit of this new adventure…upon arriving in this new land I found that Lumbridge Castle was conveniently located at almost the furthest point from port…undaunted, I hitched up my knickers, tossed down a handful of salty minnows and set out to run (which quickly downgraded to a jog, then a brisk walk) to meet my friends…soon enough I arrived to meet my very patient friends Kim and James (their government names as their Runescape names escape me). James found me as I was easily identified by my flustered appearance and less than catch of the day minnow breath. I was relieved to see that they did not plunge the shears into my chest as a reward for my utter incompetency in navigation and ability. Long story short(er), Farmer Fred had an issue and we were the cure for what ailed him; in this case some sheep needed shearing and we were here to party. Thanks for some patience and ninja-like nimbleness of the fingers, these twenty sheep were soon trimmed up and looking more Channing Tatum than Rick James. We spun some wool, returned it to Farmer Fred and considered it a day well lived! None of which would have been possible without the guidance of friends Kim and James.