Born in the Highlands of Scotland, Wilmec was a shepherd prior to the Arrival. One night after a particularly long day of herding his sheep, a mighty storm arose on the farm where he worked. The rains beat down upon the rickety wooden walls of which the barn Wilmec took refuge within were made. Suddenly, with a clash of lightning a booming thunder, the doors opened and the sheep ran out into the storm. Wilmec followed with his hounds, attempting to save his flock but fate had another course of action in mind. Wilmec slipped on the mud and fell down, hitting his head on a rock. The darkness surrounded him and he fell unconcious.
Wilmec awoke to find himself strangely out of place. He had Arrived far from his home in Scotland, he was rather on the coast of Bayside View in the County of Nicholshire. Wilmec, not being easily scared, was terrified. He asked around a few fishermen, learned the lay of the land and soon found his legs in Alluvium. Within the week he was working as a shepherd across the river at the Highland Farms. There he met with Tiegen Cassady who taught him the ways of the sword.
Wilmec grew in fame and prominence as a fighter, fighting alongside Clan Chattan for many years. Often quick tempered, Wilmec would find himself in arguments that would lead him to fight with other factions. This trait allowed him to gain many friends and allies as well as a repertoire of techniques from various factions including Ravensblood, Justice, Nurnberg, the Chalice of Thought and Triad. It was on the Faction Triad when Wilmec earned his greatest fame - rising to sergeant faster than any other warrior the Faction ever knew.
In the political spectrum, Wilmec was the first to welcome a young Boltac and Filch Lowleaves to the land. His ties to the various factions allowed him to serve as the Chancellor of Registries for a period of time in Nicholshire. For a time he served as an Arbiter at the Ruin of Roses and Castleton. Always a well known face around the gambling tables and the bard's tents, and many a lass's tent besides, Wilmec would either be welcomed with open arms or chase, depending on who he knew in a town.
Sure, he had his fair share of troubles - but such is the life of a rogue. Known for telling tall tales and running up more than a few gambling debts - he was also known for helping nearly everyone he came across in need. Such a dichotomy of a man, it was hard to tell where his legends and stories stopped and his reality began. Surely it was once somebody was certain that he was indeed spreading a blatant lie about saving the Lord of some town's daughter from a huge beast, that the girl would show up wearing a beast-hide cloak!
He loved this life and never looked back at his days as a shepherd.
When the time came for squires to be chosen for the White Talbot, Wilmec was one of the five who attempted, yet came short of this lofty goal. After this, he was taken under the wing of Gustavus and eventually knighted Sir Wilmec McWell Knight Errant. As a Knight, Sir Wilmec would take to traveling more and more. He was said to travel to Fadlan on occasion and play music with the famed Bardic Academy.
Sadly, the fate of Sir Wilmec McWell is not known. The last story to be told of him takes place just outside of Mercenary's Valley. Leaving a celebration with friends, Sir Wilmec spied a burning manse on the way back to his house in Nicholshire city. The manse was set on fire with multiple people bound by ropes inside, the arsonist was still on the premises looting the place of any valuables. Sir Wilmec ran in and rescued the bound people, leading to a confrontation with the arsonist. According to the rescued witnesses, Wilmec and the arsonist fought inside while the manse burned down around them.
Still, stories of knight similar to Sir Wilmec appearing on the roadside to help stranded travelers with a broken wheel, or to offer a poor family some food are often told around the pub fire. Similarly some tell tales of a warrior appearing in the middle of a fight, bearing the heraldic arms of Sir Wilmec, fighting for a while and disappearing in the fray. On nights when the ale kegs run dry just a little too quickly or the door suddenly opens without warning, some who knew him may still call out "Thanks Wimec."
Wherever Sir Wilmec is today, his legend will live on forever.