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Whelp's name was not one to inspire either confidence or characterization of heroism. Somehow this travesty against etymology had come to pass and Whelp himself was the first, most loud-spoken, and only advocate the entire ordeal be forgotten. Tonight, and for the past two days the Silver-Empire was in a state of frenzied revelry; the big terrible over-exagerated villain was defeated and Whelp was somehow the hero. Now even his travelling companions wanted the story-- they had taken part in no less-- which left Whelp recalling and retelling things he would sooner have forgotten.
Now you too can enjoy the adventures of Whelp, as he attempted to claw his way out of the gutters of society, overshooting into being the pawn of others, and doing his best to find a good book between bursts unwelcome excitement. Relish in watching a simple 'go fetch' mercenary job, that he was only hired to baby-sit for, turn into a confrontations with monsters out of his nightmares, deranged fiend-worshipers, a necromancer of the imperial family, and someone trying to hug him.
Unfortunately for Whelp, all it takes is one mercenary company finding one out of place cache of coins, to expose the mechanizations of centuries of politics and magical infighting. Soon his services as a scholar and an oracle would be put to a truer test, as those in power and those of power begin to struggle for dominance of the land in which he lives. Leaving the fate of an Empire in the hands of important people, but their decisions being influenced by a well-connected mercenary group, that has a scholar that knows more than is good for him and is now catching the interest of individuals with ambitions outside his well being.
At least he lived to tell the story, whether he liked it or not.
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