My "beef" is that Ugo hates pretty much any concrete suggestion for increasing our powers. It's not even a rational thing; multiple people have noted that he is against literally anything involving grief powers. Indeed, the only thing he has stated he will support is the ever vague "dewitching", something we can't even define beyond "Turn Grief Seed to Soul Gem". He has no clue what this will consist of, but happily shouts down anything that he doesn't believe will further this goal, even if it would help with something else, such as using grief constructs to help understand what the heck is going on with Oriko's soul!
Indeed, when we got a sensor past his hatred of all things griefmagic, he somehow convinces everybody that it will be talking, not magic, that will prevent her soul from being twisted in non-euclidean directions! And then when we get to the magic, we spend all of our alotted time working on an impromptu enchanting lesson instead of bringing our most versatile power to bear on the issue at hand because he's... he's a science hating Witchstuff-phobic person who sucks the fun out of the quest in favor of more seriousness and social links, who's crippling our ability to do anything useful because of his demand that we focus on the "important things", despite us not even being able to deal with our current problems, because he thinks that talking to people is a legitimate substitute for actually working on fixing non-social problems! And now Oriko is going to either be unconscious or in extreme pain while we go to reassure everybody that we still love them because we wasted all of our time trying to do things his way, with a slight spot at the end where we actually did something new which prompted an epiphany that we now can't act on because we're out of time!
I'm not just salty! I don't just have a beef! My salt has ignited, forming an incredible tower of Blue and Green rageflames on which a herd of heifers roast, the sight of their flailing corpses and the sound of their agonized lowings sufficiently grotesque to reach up to the very eyes and ears of the great Firn himself, who will reach down and smite somebody, most likely me, for the insolence of daring to express the depths of my frustration in an admittedly incredibly impolite and provacative way! And that isn't mocking sarcasm!
No, really, it isn't.