Neverending Nights

EPISODE 22: THIS IS ‘DRAGON’ ON TOO LONG: Peter and Grayson have stormed the Dragon of Ator’s den to confront him, slay him, and become the greatest heroes the City of Neverending has ever heard of. Unfortunately, things do not go as smoothly as they had planned after storming through the Dragon’s front gates…

Episode 22 (HD) 1080p – (451 MB) 
Episode 22 (HD) Youtube 

So, Paul (not to be confused with the same Paul who played Pawl the Dorf in our web series) is running the 5e Dragonlance campaign – and I posted about one of the previous sessions I really enjoyed (so far, I’ve been immensely enjoying this whole campaign really).

Well tonight, was another one of those sessions – where we did a round table of everyone discussing each character’s greatest fears – and then how they overcome it (it’s a part of the campaign, unless Paul improvised this part?) – so the story is vague to avoid spoilers in case anyone reading this is going through the 5e Dragonlance campaign.

• Allen Silver – Half Elf – Bard
• Ambrosius – Minotaur – Fighter
• Kamb Font – “gnome” (actually a Changeling, but the party doesn’t know that) – Rogue
• Leil’thienne – Drow – Artificer (Alchemist)
• Talis Silverrose – Human – Wizard
• Aelamin Willowspirit – Half-Elf – Paladin (Knight of Solamnia)

The Nightmare and the Courage.

The world melted away – reality was swept away from Talis Silverrose, discarded for the nightmare before him.

His half-elf companion who had been traveling with him the longest – Allen Silver – a librarian standing before Astinus of Palanthas, as ashes of books flittered down like dying butterflies, the roar of the red dragon, who had torn down the Great Library in Palanthas and had breathed her fiery breath that ignited the ancient and fragile pages of the Great Library. Astinus of Palanthas had been staring at Allen as the ashes settled on his face, his pale features drenched in the fragmented knowledge that burned all around. Tears streaked down his face for the knowledge lost, the only thing visible on his darkened face.

Talis’ gaze turned towards the towering minotaur companion, Ambrosius and saw that the minotaur stood at their grave, mourning that they had died before him and that none of them were able to make a difference in the world – and here he stood, older than all of them except Leil’thienne, and yet he was the sole survivor of the most recent battle – the others had fallen and died a brutal death at the hands of the draconians and dragons, and there was nothing his experience or strength could do to save his companions.

Talis turned to Leil’thienne – she was an elf like none he’d ever seen before – and now he could see why. The Cataclysm had done something – the impact it had not only on the world – but magic itself had created a vortex that had somehow shunted Leil’thienne and her family into Krynn. She watched in horror, as they fled this great war that she and her companions had found themselves in – and her family had at long last found a way to return home again – and this had done so, without her. She watched in horror as they had left her behind.

Talis turned to Kamb Font, the gnome who was as quick with his hands as any kender Talis had met – but what he saw was not a gnome. As Talis stared in awe – he saw that Kamb looked nothing like a gnome – instead, Kamb was as tall as Talis and almost looked human – except the features on his face were… for lack of a better word, featureless. His flesh a ghostly color, his hair as white as the purest of snow – and he watched as Talis and the others, seeing Kamb for what he truly looked like were horrified and fled, leaving Kamb, revealed – and this was not the first time he was alone – but this was the first time he ever truly felt alone and it felt as if his own psychic blades had ripped his mind and heart apart.

Talis’ gaze then went to Aelamin Willowspirit – the elf who had become a Knight of Solamnia. Aelamin was a bitter reminder of Talis’ own path – the Knight he should have become. Aelamin had been chosen by Paladine to receive the blessing and evidence that the gods had returned – or perhaps that they’d always been here and that it is the people who turned their backs on the gods. But he watched as a massive platinum dragon stood before Aelamin, who clenched a shattered lance, the fragments at his feet. The dragon growled that Aelamin’s faith had not been strong enough – had it been, the lance would have never have shattered. Only because Aelamin’s faith had faltered had the lance shattered, and with the lance shattered, Aelamin’s enemies had swept through the land – and the Dark Queen could not be stopped.

“This is what you wanted,” a familiar voice sounded behind Talis. Talis realized despite seeing – and believing he could ‘hear’ what the other endured – that had not been the case. These words he just heard – from an all too familiar voice – had been the first since everything had gone dark. He turned to see his father, adorned in Knights of the Sword – next to him, Talis’ brother, Rhen, adorned in Knight of the Crown. “You wanted to be a powerful mage,” his father continued, his arm firmly around his other son, Rhen. “This is why you left the Knighthood. To be a Mage. To save the world. Now is your chance. Tell me, do you have the power?”

Talis turned – all around him, the dead lay – their sightless eyes gazing at him, as if he’d been their only savior. Talis’ robes were drenched in blood, the white robes soaking up the ankle deep pool of blood that gathered in the battlefield. The rest of his robes were covered in ash from the fires, coloring them black. He stared at the approaching army of draconians and dragons.

“Well, son,” his father said, expectantly. “Show us your power. Save us all.”

But Talis’ magic was not endless – he’d expended every ounce of magic in him. He wasn’t even sure how he was standing.

“I can’t,” Talis choked. “I have no more spells.”

“Just as I thought,” his father sneered, as if he knew this was how it would end. “A useless wizard.”

A useless mage.

A useless mage.

The words echoed in Talis’ heart as the armies drew closer and closer.

A useless mage.

A useless mage.

Those were not his father’s words.

His father was sorely disappointed in Talis and his choice to become a wizard.

But his father would never call him useless.

In the end, Talis was still family.

A useless mage.

Talis looked up at the approaching army descending on him and his family.

“Solinari,” Talis shouted. “This is a Test. A Test I will not fail. I call on you now to fill me with your faith and your magic.”

Solinari suddenly burst into white light – brighter than the sun. The white light spread across the land like milk spilled across black sand, devouring the shadows and filling Talis with more magic than he’d ever felt before.

He opened his eyes – his pupils as white as the moon. His body glowed and his fingers crackled with unbridled magic that he released upon the army – eviscerating them, shadows of darkness devoured by the light of magic. Talis let out a scream as the magic poured out of him – every nerve in his body burning.

He collapsed to the ground, and turned his head – and saw his father smile at him, beaming with pride.

Talis suddenly saw the others again…

Allen Silver had picked up several of the books that had not yet burned. “Astinus of Palanthas,” he said with a forceful voice to the stoic being before him, “these books may burn – but the enemy will only win if we do not write what we know. We have memories to draw from – and we must write them down – we must keep writing so that others will know what happened! We must write so that history is not forgotten or repeated! Though they’ve burned the Great Library to the ground – and yes, endless amounts of volumes of knowledge have been lost – if we do not survive to write this down – then those who burn these books truly do win.” Astinus of Palanthassuddenly smiled and though his Great Library burned around him, he shoved the burning tomes off of his table, grabbed a clean parchment, and barked at Allen to stop standing there and get him some ink – the ink on his table had dried in the fire.

Talis saw that Ambrosius’ had not changed much. However, he saw the towering minotaur’s sad expression change ever so slightly – as the mourning turned into a sense of pride. Ambrosius realized that though his companions may have died in the battle, they had died with great honor, defending the land and dying for what they believed in. Whether the war was won or lost, it did not matter – they had died for a cause they believed in and their sacrifice would always be remembered – even if that meant Ambrosius sharing their tale so that their memory is never forgotten.

Talis turned again and saw that he – and the others, returned to Kamb Font – the odd… changeling-like person that he was and all brought him gifts of appreciation. After all, Kamb seemed to enjoy material things – and Talis and the others had not fled from him – but rather, each had run off to find a gift that Kamb would enjoy, as a means of thanking him for always risking his life for them. They embraced Kamb for who he was and held onto him tightly.

Talis saw Leil’thienne next – she was in a cave, and she had reached her family. They had not left without her – her mother had left the portal open and waited. Leil’thienne placed her hands on her mother’s face, tracing her mother’s ageless features. “It’s OK, mother,” she smiled. “I am fine here. I have made friends who accept me. This is much for me to see and learn on this world and I would like to stay. When the time is right, I will come home to you.” Her mother wept as the portal closed behind her, leaving her daughter on Krynn.

Talis then turned to Aelamin Willowspirit. He had kneeled down before the platinum dragon, the fractured lance at his feet, tears of shame running down his face. As his tears fell, they landed on the rusted, fractured lance that had broken with his faith had broken – and as his tears streaked down the rust, they ate away at the rust, revealing the lance’s unique steel. In doing so, Aelamin whose head had been bowed before the platinum dragon, could now see that it had taken the form of the Dark Queen herself – Takhisis herself. Aelamin grabbed the fractured lance and stood, “No,” he growled. “My faith was never broken. This has all been a lie. An illusion.” And in Aelamin’s hand, the lance was no longer fractured – it was whole, and it gleamed brightly light up by a white light. “The darkness has been driven back from my eyes and I see you for who you are.” He shoved the lance into the very heart of Takhisis herself, who reared back and roared in fury and pain.

Everyone awoke from the nightmare.

A nightmare, each of them realized, they’d all shared together.

So my former boss, Paul is running us through the Dragonlance campaign for 5e. There was a moment where my character (I play Talis Silverrose, the Human Wizard!) had a cool moment. Tonight, while one of my dogs (Penny Lane) was hiding from the sounds of neighbors firing off fireworks (hey, thanks for that…) – I was hit by inspiration to write. And expanded on what my character witnessed and heard. Below is that story…

• Allen Silver – Half Elf – Bard
• Ambrosius – Minotaur – Fighter
• Kamb Font – “gnome” (actually a Changeling, but the party doesn’t know that) – Rogue
• Leil’thienne – Drow – Artificer (Alchemist)
• Talis Silverrose – Human – Wizard
• Aelamin Willowspirit – Half-Elf – Paladin (Knight of Solamnia)

The journey had already been long and perilous – and Talis could barely comprehend the events that were happening around him. He’d left home, scorned by his father, due to his desire to study the ways of Magic, rather than be a Knight of Solamnia, like himself, or his brother, or generations of others.

“We need a fire to keep warm tonight,” the voice had belonged to a half-elf by the name of Allen Silver.

On the road, Talis had met the studious half-elf. Talis wondered if it was fates that their roads would come together, as they both shared the surname that had ‘Silver’ in it. Allen was very well versed in history – and in the small towns they stopped at, if he sang, the Elven side of him came forth as his voice sounded smooth and soft, like wine.

As the fates would have it, both Allen and Talis had received a summons from Becklin Uth Viharin. They were both to go to Vogler – it would seem, a mutual friend to them all, Ispin Greenshield, had passed away.

Talis stood and whispered, “Creare ignem!” A small fire suddenly came alive in the center of camp. Talis stared at the bonfire he’d created, then sat on a rock and gazed into the fire. As the flames danced, ashes and embers broke away, and continued to sway and move, floating ever upward, until taken away by the gentle breeze that slipped through the canyons like a snake shedding its skin.

Orange light illuminated Talis’ other companions. There’d been the towering – and quite intimidating minotaur who called himself Ambrosius. He was, from what Talis had learned, the son of a famous female minotaur pirate who sailed the seas of Kyrnn. There were few who could sail a ship better than any minotaur. He was older, his fur marked with grey, his breastplate marked with dents and scratches that showed the towering figure had seen many years of battle.

The flames danced, and orange light burst around the campfire, illuminating the face of their gnome companion, who’d been going through his pouches as if he’d suspected a Kender had lightened his load. While Talis had not been around many Gnomes – the few that came through Solamnia with their latest creations to “help the Knights of Solamnia regain their honor.” On his travels with Allen – and even when the others joined – they’d met several gnomes – something about this gnome who called himself Kamb Font – seemed distinctly different. He was not like any gnome Talis had seen. Even his accent when he spoke was one that Talis could not place, but he never pushed the matter. Whoever or whatever Kamb held as a secret, he kept it locked away, gone in the shadows of his soul, just as he’d done when he himself seemed to disappear in darkness from time to time.

As the flames continued to flicker and sputter, Talis’ eyes moved to the next companion who’d been with them since all of this started – the ‘Dark’ elf who was named Leil’thienne. She too seemed unlike any elf Talis had seen and while Talis had met many people with darker complexions – Leil’thienne’s seemed to be composed of the very shadows of night itself. Her aversion to daylight only seemed to add to the darkened mystery that surrounded her. Rather than use magic, she was an expert alchemist – most of her potions mimicking that of spells. Talis believed that perhaps, she’d learned these tricks from the charlatans that sprung up after the Cataclysm and the ‘departure of the gods.’

Speaking of the gods, Talis’ eyes drifted to the last among them – a Half-Elf, who strangely enough, also wore the armor of the Knights of Solamnia. This half-elf was named Aelamin Willowspirit, and he and the shadow elf, Leil’thienne, had met on the road – also heading for Volger – and had heard some kind of summoning – where they witnessed several statues – most of them in ruin – but represented the gods – and the one for Paladine himself seemed to spark something.

The gods… they had abandoned the world of Krynn.

Had they come back to save it now?

Three hundred years ago, the Cataclysm brought ruin to the world of Krynn. In a single day, an age of wonders came to an end. Countless innocents died, the face of the world was reshaped, and the gods themselves faded into legend. Through ages of struggle, the peoples of Krynn survived, but the world isn’t what it was. Those nations that remain linger in the shadows of their ancestors’ wonders. Only slowly have they begun to push back centuries of darkness and rediscover how the world has changed.

Then came the Dragon Armies; legions of soldiers devoted to the wicked god Takhisis the Dragon Queen, and the world faces ruin once more.

Since they’d all come together – they’d witnessed horrifying creatures – beings that resembled Dragons and Man combined called ‘Draconians’ – and their deaths have varying effects.
They’d fought the Draconians several times now; as well in engaged in battles as well as liberated bases, such as Wheelwatch Outpost from the Dragon Armies of Takhisis.

And earlier today, they’d met Sea Elves and entered a chamber dedicated to Habbakuk. Talis felt the blessing of Habbakuk upon him after the ceremony.

Talis peered to the heavens and admired the constellations – he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small trinket. In the night sky he could clearly see Solinari, the White Moon, as well as Lunitari, the Red Moon, but Nuitari was invisible except to those that followed the dark god of magic. Talis held the small trinket to his eye – and there, hiding in the shadows of the night, Nuitari watched gazing back at him.

As the fires crackled, causing a hypnotic sound, Talis thought about the events that had led him here – he’d taken a small test – and was deemed to be worthy of the White Robes. However, after the disaster at Volger, he’d met Master Whyan, a black robed Mage of High Sorcery. While she’d been short with Talis and the others, she’d also been helpful. Then he’d met Dalamar, a ‘Dark’ Elf, shunned by his people for pursuing his magic.

Talis thought about himself.

How he’d been shunned by his father. His brother. His family.

Even the Knights of Solamnia were untrusting of magic in general.

He too had been shunned.

The ashes of the fire crackled and descended, covering Talis’ white robes in black ash. He gazed down – and could see himself – in this moment – out of his own body – gazing upward at Nuitari – and he was wearing black robes!

Talis fell off the rock and quickly put the trinket away, staring at his robes, which were still white.

“A dream, caused by dozing off,” Talis told himself.

However, at that moment a voice called out, “Talis…”

Talis leapt to his feet and looked around. His companions were settling around the fire. None of them seemed to have heard. The call came again – however, this time – it did not call his name. It was more of a feeling – the sensation of magic. But not quite – it was like pulling on a thread of a cloth. He was at the end of the thread.

Talis began following this ‘thread’ wandering away from the campfire. Leil’thienne’s voice was suddenly next to Talis. “Where are you going?”

“Do you hear it?” Talis asked. “The voice… or magic… more of a feeling?”

She shook her head. “It’s somewhere out there. It’s a thread of magic.”

“Let me come with you,” Leil’thienne said. “I can see in the dark where your human eyes may fail you.”

Kamb’s voice was next. “If you’re going into the dark, I can also scout for you.”

“Just gather the others,” Talis whispered. “There’s something out there.”

Talis followed the invisible ‘arcane thread’ that seemed to whisper to him. Much to their surprise – they stumbled upon a shattered archway, whose arcane runes were shattered and lying about. The once glorious archway, now sideways – perhaps shifted by the canyons or the rippling effect that Cataclysm.

“Is this what you dragged us to?” Allen asked. “A broken archway?”

The ground rumbled.

Talis felt the magic go wild all around him as stone and clay merged into a towering elemental. Talis looked at the others. “I can fix this.”

“Fix it, human,” the minotaur growled and pulled out his polearm, charging the elemental. Kamb, Allen, Aelamin and Leil’thienne all proceeded to attack the elemental. Talis focused on the portal. He studied the runes – and though it was written in a language he was not entirely familiar with – the runes seemed to glow and indicate their desire to be repaired. Talis’ arms thrust forward – almost as if he were a puppet on a string – his mind twisting words he wasn’t familiar with – his hands pulling, turning, and spinning the runes so that they fit like an ancient puzzle. Rubble from the ground from the long shattered portal began to rise from the ground, defying gravity, and moved to fit themselves – connecting rune after rune. Just as the portal came alive, the elemental had been defeated.

“You did it,” Leil’thienne admired.

He had. But how? He looked to the heavens again to see if Solinari had guided his hand – but what he saw instead was Nuitari. Talis reached in his pocket and felt his trinket and looked back up just in time to send Nuitari seemingly bend the darkness and disappear behind it, as if the sky itself were a tarp made of shadows.

Talis stared at the portal as it shimmered.

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

I am going to copy and paste what I said during Christmas… because it applies here. So if you’ve already read it – you can read it again. Or just share the message of love.

Doing Neverending Nights turned out to be an incredible surprise. Initially, the show started because we wanted to get our hands in the creative outlet of doing “machinima” and some of our own voice acting. It allowed me to begin creating a story. But more importantly – it allowed me to include my friends in that story – whether it was Paul as Pawl the Dorf, Poppy as Poppy the Salt Vendor, Chad as Alan the Astounding – the list goes on and on (you can see our “Cast” page over here: http://www.neverendingnights.com/necast )

So much came out of the series – a lot of it because I was chasing things down. I reached out to Bioware to get their approval, which got their attention – and they interviewed us on their website (you can check out the “About” page at: http://www.neverendingnights.com/about ) to see all of that. Which then got us recognized by Atari, who asked us to do machinima episodes to debut Neverwinter Nights 2 before it was out – and they took us up to their office in Los Angeles and got us into E3 to meet with them.

We were nominated in 2005 for one of the best new machinimas (we didn’t win) – but Adam and I flew up to New York regardless and had an incredible time.

Over the years, time has gone by and many of those friends, and myself have drifted away. They’ve moved away, and we each made those promises of keeping in touch – but life simply gets in the way.

But I look back at the adventures of Peter and Grayson – and I think of only love and how truly blessed I was. Though many of these friends and I have parted ways – they’re deeply cherished even if I don’t say it enough.

I hope all of you, this Christmas or Holiday, are able to look back – and think of times you were loved – and carry that sensation forward into the New Year.

See my post over here.