Dragonlance 5e Session – The Test of High Sorcery for Talis!

Note: My DM (Paul C.) told me he customized the Test for Talis for our session, because he felt the Test in the Shadow of the Dark Queen 5e book was weaker, and that because of my backstory, he was able to make a much deeper customized Test. Let me tell you, twice during the Test, my eyes burned with real tears. One, when I confronted my character’s father, and one where I had to make a choice between companions and power. Paul did a knock out job of making the Test one of my all time favorite sessions!

Thanks Tawmis! Honestly, the Test was so much fun to work on, and your backstory made it all click. You’ve put so much into Talis, and it gave the whole thing a ton of depth to build off of. So, major props to you for that.

Those moments with your father and the whole choice between friends and power I knew would be fun to play out. It worked so well because of the work you’ve done with Talis.It felt real, and seeing you dive into it made the whole session better for everyone.

I really enjoyed all the storytelling yesterday from everyone. It keeps things exciting and overall, the test gave a lot fun stuff for the party to play off of.. Can’t wait to see where this all heads next!

• Paul C.

• Allen Silver – Half Elf – Bard
• Ambrosius – Minotaur – Fighter
• Leil’thienne – Drow – Artificer (Alchemist)
• Talis Silverrose – Human – Wizard
• Aelamin Willowspirit – Half-Elf – Paladin (Knight of Solamnia)

Absent:

• Cole – Human Cleric – Absent this session
• Kamb Font – “gnome” (actually a Changeling, but the party doesn’t know that) – Rogue – Absent this session

Talis sat on the stairs, rasping. His lungs felt as if they were filled with water. His breath came to him with great difficulty. Despite feeling as if they were full of liquid, his lungs burned with great intensity, as if he was going to combust from the inside out.

Flame and fire.

He heard Wyhan’s voice, “Ash and shadow.”

He shook his head. Tried to clear her voice.

But then he saw his companions again, bound to steel chains, screaming for him to save them – but there was an artifact that called his name. With the power he could turn the tide of the War. But could he abandon his companions?

As he had run to the artifact that called to him – demanded his attention – he paused – whispering ancient words of arcane lore that sprung to his mind as the Veil of Magic surged all around him – and a spectral figure of a gold dragon emerged in the room – roaring as it spread its wings – the wind, nearly putting out the blade that threatened to consume his companions. He did not wait to see – he turned and ran for the artifact, hoping the dragon he’d called forth could save his companions – and if it could not – the artifact would make it possible! He would bring them back from death for he felt it in his veins he could do so – if he could only reach the artifact.

He had reached the artifact and spun around, holding it in his hand, victoriously – it’d been a Staff of great power. He was pleased to see the Gold Dragon’s spectral form had pulled the chains apart and freed his companions.

The memories jumble. Scramble. Tossed and torn.

He remembered writhing in pain – the Veil of Magic surging through him, ripping his body apart, physically, mentally, and some deeper manner – the things he saw and felt he could never explain. He was going to die because of this staff. As death neared him, his body shattered, his mind forsaken, his soul no longer his own – there was a surge of light.

Leil’thienne had run down and pulled the staff that threatened to consume Talis from his hands – and now she’d been the one writhing in pain. Had it not been for Ambrosius, Leil’thienne would have died for Talis.

Talis screamed, coming to his senses.

His companions looked to Demelin with concern. The red robed wizard, whose true face remained hidden behind the skeletal mask they wore simply whispered, “Your friend is forever changed. The nightmares of what he endured during the test will subdue in time.”

Talis leaned on the Staff he’d acquired for completing the Test, his newly gifted red robes, flowing around him, marking him as an official member of the Order of High Sorcery. He glanced at the Staff he had used to help him stand – it had not been a gift, he realized, for completing the Test, it was a grim reminder of his failure and his choices he’d made that had nearly cost him his companions.

He remembered how three faceless representations of the Order had stood before him, the three Moons lingering behind them. The first test, he had been trust into a battle where he saw his own brother, Rhen, pinned down. He saw Ambrosius surrounded by hundreds of soldiers, all with pikes, thrusting them into his companion. Then there’d been Kamb, who had been going after the leader of the Enemy, the leader who clearly possessed something of great importance or great power. Helping Kamb stopping the leader of the Enemy from escaping – and perhaps claiming whatever it was they had for himself, could turn the battle.

But Talis had known – though he and his father had never seen eye to eye – Rhen had been his older brother, and had always stood up for Talis. Though Rhen shared the same ideals as their father – to become a Knight and try to restore honor to the Knights of Solamnia, he never faltered when it came to protecting Talis from others. Now, at last, Talis could return the favor – his hands had glowed with burning flame as he drew his family blade – casting a spell to enhance it as it glowed like a beacon across the battlefield. As he ran by, cutting through all who stood before him, he passed Ambrosius, and shouted, “I am sorry my friend.”

Ambrosius had seen Talis’ brother, Rhen, and he knew where Talis’ heart lay. “I die with great honor,” Ambrosius shouted, “I have lived a long life, and a battle so grand as this is where I had hoped to die!” And it was then, a thousand spears brought Ambrosius to his knees, and then they pierced his chest repeatedly, until Ambrosius breathed no more. As Talis cut through the field, he saw the leader which Kamb had been chasing had managed to get to a dragonnel and was taking flight. Talis, had he given chase, could have stopped that with magic – now the dragonnel took to the sky and burned his master’s pursuer, leaving nothing more than ash for Kamb’s remains.

Above the battle field, Solinari glowed.

The scene had shifted, and he had now stood before his father, who was dressed regally in the plate armor of the Knights of Solamnia. The armor gleamed and shined like it’d never done before, the many dents his father had earned in the previous battles against goblins and their kin had been removed. The air was thick with tension as the wall seemed to close around Talis, as they often had done, when he was face to face with his father.

His father’s eyes were cold and distant, even as shadows twisted and spun all around him. The spectral form of Wyhan – the woman who had haunted Talis’ dreams for awhile now, seemed to be the cause of the shadows and darkness.

“You wear the name of Silverrose, but do you carry the name with honor? Your blade I gave to you, like the one I gave to Rhen, gleams brightly, for it looks as if it’s never been used. Untarnished and unscratched. I know you do not stand before me, having used it with honor and respect. Defend your family’s legacy or turn your back on us forever,” his father, Journ said.

Talis wasn’t sure where he felt the surge from. Perhaps the feeling from having saved Rhen only a moment ago – how had this all changed? – but that energy that coursed through him was still flowing strong through his veins.

“Defend the family Legacy?” Talis nearly spat the words. He had never had the courage nor the strength to stand up to his father. But since Talis began this adventure, he had seen things, and done things that had forever changed who he was. He had grown in power, strength and confidence. “Why,” Talis growled, “would I defend our Legacy? You knew, from when I was a young age, I did not want to become a Knight. You knew I wanted to become a Wizard of High Sorcery. Yet, you refused. You were so concerned about the damned family Legacy, you were afraid to be ashamed that your youngest son did not want to become a Knight. He wanted to become a mage! You were so ashamed you held me back! Refused to let me learn magic. You forced me to carry this damn blade you forged for me, as if one day I would snap out of it, and simply say, ‘You’re right, father. I have always wanted to be a Knight of Solamnia!’ But I never did. Never. Still do not want to. I carry this blade at my side, because there is a piece of me that still hungers for your approval. If I discarded this blade you forged for me, that I would be throwing away the last piece of hope that MY FATHER might love me for who I am.” Talis paused, tears were burning his eyes, “No, father. That is NOT a legacy I can defend. A Legacy of fear. A legacy more concerned with honor than it is with love.”

Talis spun around and the scene shifted again, as this time Nuitari cast her shadow over Talis.

That is when he’d faced the test that he had feared the most – the test that would cost him his companions. They had embraced Talis for who he was. They cared nothing for his last name, his family’s legacy, though he had seemed to wear all proudly, with the family blade on his hip, and the traditional Solamniac Knight mustache. They took him in for who he was – for being an aspiring Wizard of High Sorcery – his opportunity to take the Test, seemingly on hold, as a war seemed to brew on the horizon.

He had hated this war – not only because was symbolized death – but it had delayed him from taking his Test. He had hoped to take the Test and prove to his father once and for all that his father had always been wrong about him – that he would make a fine and powerful wizard that could still carry honor.

It had been here, in this mysterious cathedral that his companions had been bound to chains and pulled towards the flames that threatened to turn their bodies to ash. Their screams still echoed in Talis’ mind, even as he thought about it again. How he had summoned the spectral soul of a golden dragon to break the chains – he’d thought of something that could be resistant to the hellish fires that burned – and somehow, in his heart and mind, a golden dragon had emerged and saved his companions. It had been what saved his companions – not Talis. Talis had gone for the Staff – the artifact that called to him. He wondered now, if it was he who summoned the gold dragon – or had it come because it already knew Talis’ choice – and had come to save his companions?

No. Talis saw it in his spellbook now. He’d learned during that Test to summon draconic spirits to come to his aid. It must have been him who called the golden dragon to the room.

Still, he wondered.

Talis had noticed, when that Test had been over, both Nuitari and Lunitari had glowed more powerful.

In the final Test, Talis found himself standing in a room full of mirrors, the walls had been made of polished obsidian – it was not lost on Talis, that the material that had forged this walls was the same color as Nuitari.

Each mirror’s reflection represented who Talis could be, as well as who Talis feared, he could become. One mirror showed that Talis had cast off the robes, and now stood side by side, next to his brother, and their father behind them, all charging forward, brandishing the family’s blade and crest, all adorned in the fine steel of the Solamnaic Knights. Another showed Talis, with the Staff he’d acquired in the Cathedral, that threatened to burn his companions – but here, he was cloaked in darkness, ash and smoke, the world was bowing before him as he stood strong and powerful, the staff held high, like a beacon of velvet shadow.

And still another – Talis, one half of his body in armor, the other in robes that shifted from white, red and black – with figures on each side tugging at him, wanting him to become one or the other. After a moment, Talis saw it was none other than himself, standing on each side of the body – pulling at himself, threatening to tear himself in half. He realized, this had been his own path – the path he walked to decide who he was.

“You stand before your true self, Talis Silverrose. Here, you will face what you fear the most—what you are capable of becoming. The path is not clear, nor is it simple. What do you truly seek: to embrace who you are, or to cast aside what you’ve become? Will you face your inner darkness, or will you strive for redemption? Choose wisely—your future is shaped by what you see in this reflection.”

On the left, Talis saw his family – as if it were a shimmering portal – welcoming him back home. On the right, he saw himself consumed by shadow – he had helped win the War, but the price had been a terrible one – after the War, power consumed Talis and he lost control of who he was, and now threatened to create a whole new war – one against the very companions he had been so faithful to.

In the center, the one being torn.

Talis reached into the center mirror and pulled himself free – a spectral image of himself colliding into him as he chose to forge his own destiny and forge ahead with neither light or darkness – and felt Lunitari’s red light wash over him.

They had been with Demelin for several hours. Allen Silver was asking her something about his own magic, when Talis finally completed his walk through of his memories, piecing them back together, the best he could. He walked over to Leil’thienne.

“How did you know?” Talis asked.

“What do you mean?” she turned to face Talis.

“The others,” Talis answered, leaning on his newly acquired Staff. “They couldn’t see the Test. Somehow, I felt your eyes were on me throughout. As if you could see the Choices… you could see the Test I was going through somehow?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Leil’thienne replied.

Talis stared at her. She had risked her life for him – to pry his Staff from his hands when it was out of control. For a moment, they had both been ripped apart by the Veil – they were connected and shared that torture. Hooks had been placed into their souls – they were both changed for it, but neither he nor she could yet understand how those hooks would change them in the coming days, months or years – but there was something there now, that lived inside of them.

“Why did you save me then?” Talis asked. “I wasn’t worth saving. You saw the choices I made.”

“You were in danger, I jumped in to help,” Leil’thienne shrugged.

She was mysterious. She was not from Kyrnn – though she bore an uncanny resemblance to Elves, her accent was like none he’d ever heard, nor had he ever heard of the type of Elves that she claimed to be. She even alluded to Demelin that she was from “somewhere else” and had asked about “seeing into other worlds.”

What Talis had not known is that until that moment – when she had jumped from being an observer of the Test to becoming an active participant of the Test, that she had never considered her own mortality before, or even her connection to her companions.

Her unquestioning willingness to die to save Talis is a surprising bit of self-knowledge, and she’s not sure what to do with it. One part of her worries that she’ll need to use it as a hold over Talis, to protect herself from the College of Mages. That part also worries that this suspicion formed a part of her unconscious decision to save him.

Talis could see that Leil’thienne was deep in thought – he could use his magic to pry into her mind, and learn what she was thinking – but he would not. She had nearly died for him.

“Then,” Talis smiled, “I will say thank you for saving my life.” Talis turned to Demelin, who was busy answering Allen’s questions, but Demelin’s eyes were on Talis, piercing his thoughts, seemingly, as Talis wondered – when Talis was dying, and Leil’thienne jumped in to save her – had Demelin known that she would try this? Or that Leil’thienne was always watching, as Talis suspected, and that perhaps, Demelin, had in a way, even put Leil’thienne through the Test of High Sorcery in her own way.