Every wall in the small study was covered with shelves every shelf was packed with books, there was a large desk, also covered in books, a lamp and 2 overstuffed chairs on either side of a small table, again filled with books. In one chair there was a man he had short brown hair, half moon reading glasses and a comfortable belly that strained at his silken emerald robes. Completely overwhelming his lap was a massive ginger tabby with a friendly face purring as he absently stroked it. The man’s other hand held a hastily opened missive in front of his face, his face through obviously a rather pleasant sort of face had the look of someone who had just received news of the worst sort.
Eugene Wilson stared blankly at the letter his left hand absently rubbing clover between the ears, as his brain tried to absorb the news, his mind was cast back to his rather simple childhood and the events that had led up to his current predicament.
As a child he had loved to read more than anything, because of that he thought that he might be able to make a living as a mage. He would command great magic. With that magic he would never have to do anything he didn’t want to and he could spend all of his time reading. He would be powerful possibly more powerful than his older brother Samuel who was going to inherit fathers manor. When he was twelve he begged his father to apprentice him to a mage. Not knowing what else to do with his younger son and knowing that a mage is always someone useful to have in the family Gordon Wilson sold his prized heifer to pay for Eugene to be sent to the city to study under Elise or as she liked to be called The Red Lady, a caster of small renown whom Gordon had once loved before he settled for his wife Mary.
Elise was a strict task maker and much to Eugene’s dismay she had him doing manual labour for almost 2 years before he was allowed near the spell books. It was soon after he gained his first circle that Elise was required to fight in the war, Eugene’s job was to follow and care for her belongings much like a squire would. The campaign was in the beginning uncomfortable and quickly progressed too horrific. The walking dead, the constant danger, the perpetual rain and the fact that he was always hungry tore at him until all he could think about was going home curling up with a good book and never leaving his room. As soon as this was over he would tell his father that he couldn’t be a mage he wasn’t sure what he would do but it would be a safe job, maybe he would be a librarian. Then things took a turn for the worse and they were fighting every day, it came to a head in the battle the Gods Thunder. That’s where his master died, that’s where he became a hero, allegedly. It was the only time he ever cast a spell with deadly intent; it was the day, through some folly of the gods that Eugene was the only survivor and turned back an army. He’d been awarded the silver quill for ingenuity; the Kaiser himself had shaken his hand and thanked him for his service inducting him into the arcane order of Geftlubadd, only he knew that he was a fraud. Finding a job after the war had been easy; Eugene Wilson harbinger of the Gods Thunder had his pick of posts. He chose an administrative roll, overseeing teachers of the first circle in Osweldt. His hometown had been hit hard and there was no one left to tell him what happened to his family.
Over the years Eugene worked hard at 2 things maintaining his reputation and avoiding situations involving discomfort and the making of life and death decisions. It was startlingly simple to play the part of the Hero anyone who had witnessed his cowardice was dead. And people saw what they wanted to, and believed what they saw. Although he would give anything to change the events of that day, giving life back to his master and his friends and the hundreds of more deserving men and woman, he didn’t have the power to do that and it would have been silly of him not to take advantage of the situation. It was certainly better than trying to explain what had actually happened and relive that nightmare. People were so desperate to have something good come out of that whole mess that no one looked to closely at him. from time to time he would receive an official summons to be present at some event, but overall people where happy to retreat into their own lives and forget the war had ever happened. Of course that only lasted until the next attack from the dead. He eked out a comfortable existence with nice rooms in the nice area of town with plenty of space for his books and his cat clover. He had parties on occasion to remind people that he was important and had many evening visits from young attractive women with whom he almost never slept with but they helped keep up his reputation around town. Until now, Eugene was unsure whom he had slighted but he was told in no uncertain terms that after all these years a hero was needed. That he was the only one the people would accept for the job after all he was not only the harbinger of gods thunder but he was one of the few veterans left young enough to go back out there and restore the great nation of Geftlubadd to its former glory.
Clover stretched in annoyance Eugene had been rubbing the same spot on his head for a ridicules long time, he carefully reached out one fore paw and gently placed it on the arm holding the letter, he shot his claws out breaking the skin and causing Eugene to curse and drop the letter. He raised his bleeding arm to his mouth and glared at the cat. Clover stared deep into his eyes, enough pouting its time to plan on how we are going to survive this! Get your spell book and some paper what will we need I have no intention of being wet cold or under fed.
“Bossy puss!” Eugene shoved clover off his lap and stood up walked over to a shelf and started looking for a bout on the outdoors and survival it had been nearly 25 years since he had pitched a tent.