The Whelp is a rather amusing commoner found sitting at a table in The Friendly Arm, complaining about the quality of iron in everyday items.


"Aargh, look at these forks and tankards! This iron shortage shows no mercy on us drunkards and gormands!"

1: Whatever could be wrong with your fork and tankard?
They be made of iron yet they bend under the weight of this inn's meager offerings and the handle breaks on me tankard to spill this rat spit of an ale into my lap! Aarrr, Nessie, get me another!
2: Is there any way I can help you?
Yes, ram your eyeball onto this blade to see if it be cursed with this metal weakness, too... Aarrr, ne'ermind, they'll just kick me out of this place and send me amongst the very brigands who might covet me rotten tankard!

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