Go to Part 1

THIS BROKEN RAILROAD

By its nature, Call of the Netherdeep is a linear campaign: Festival of Merit → Emerald Grotto → Bazzoxan → Ank’Harel → Cael Morrow → the Netherdeep.

In theory, this should be fine.

In practice, however, the designers have decided to link these set pieces together with a railroad.

And, unfortunately, it’s a really shoddy railroad. Honestly, just sloppy, terrible, ill-conceived infrastructure. Maybe not quite, “there’s a dragon attacking a town that’s also being besieged by an army, and our expectation is that the 1^st level characters will decide to just walk into town,” bad, but close.

Let’s start with the hook for the entire campaign.

At the end of the Festival of Merit, the Elders of Jigow choose the two most successful teams to compete in the Grand Finale race through the Emerald Grotto. One team will be the PCs. The other team will be the Rivals.

This is a little weird, because literally none of the festival games up to this point have been team-based events. The only previous mentions of a “team,” in fact, were (a) an event where you are explicitly FORBIDDEN from competing as a team and (b) a different event where you competed with a partner (which is not the same thing as the five-ish person teams selected at the Grand Finale).

So, to kick things off, there this’s big, glaring continuity error squatting right on top of the event which is the lynchpin for the entire campaign.

In any case, the PCs and Rivals have to race through the Emerald Grotto and claim the Emerald Eye. Whichever team returns with the Emerald Eye wins the race.

Oddly, the adventure then acts as if the races ends as soon as someone grabs the Eye. Which, of course, it doesn’t.

But let’s move past that, too.

The real problem here is that the entire campaign hook is horribly broken.

Here’s how it works:

• The PCs get to the end of the Emerald Grotto and they spot a shark that has the Emerald Eye strapped to its side.
• They fight the shark.
• When the shark dies, it crashes into a stone pillar, causing the wall of the cavern to crack open.
• This reveals a passage “awash with golden light.”
• If the PCs go down the passage, they will discover the Jewel of Three Prayers, which — as noted above — is the essential McGuffin on which the entire plot is built.

Problem #1: It’s a race.

So, yeah, the glowy light is interesting. But the PCs are motivated by their immediate and only goal to NOT explore the light right now. Generally speaking, you want scenario-crucial actions to flow from the established goals of the PCs, not in direct contradiction to them.

The same is true of the Rivals, of course, but ultimately you, as the DM, control their actions, so you can just decree that they go and check out the glowy light even if the PCs don’t. The campaign is designed to hypothetically work if the Rivals claim the Jewel of Three Prayers (more on that in a second), so you can route around this. It’s just kind of awkward in its design.

The bigger problem is that you don’t have to fight the shark.

In fact, fighting the shark is probably the dumbest way for the PCs to get the Emerald Eye.

Even if you overrule an Animal Handling check, that still leaves alternative solutions like mage hand (to grab the amulet), an animal friendship spell, or just a Stealth check (with or without invisibility). And it should be noted that the writers know that these options exist, because animal friendship is how they get the amulet on the shark in the first place:

A druid of Jigow cast animal friendship on the shark earlier today and tied the Emerald Eye around its body, then made a speedy getaway.

So… no dead shark?

No thrashing.

No thrashing, no pillar collapse.

No pillar collapse, no glowy light.

No glowy light, the campaign doesn’t happen.

Oof.

Okay, let’s move forward to the next day. There are four scenarios:

PCs have the Jewel, the Rivals are Indifferent. The Rivals decide to just follow the PCs. (We’ll come back to this.)

PCs have the Jewel, the Rivals are Friendly. The Rivals offer to join the PCs (and, as mentioned before, the rivalry breaks and GMPC problems start).

PCs have the Jewel, the Rivals are Hostile. In this case, the Rivals try to steal the Jewel. First, as mentioned earlier, this probably means that the Rivals are now dead and the rivalry is over. More than that, the railroad is frequently driven by the Rivals showing up by surprise and forcing the plot forward: So whether they’re working with the PCs or they’re dead, the railroad breaks multiple times over.

Second, their plan for stealing the Jewel is also hilarious:

The rivals’ plan is to gather outside the inn where the characters are staying. One rival then sneaks into the characters’ room at the inn and searches for the jewel. If the thief doesn’t return after an hour, the rivals travel to the Emerald Loop Caravan Shop (described later in this chapter) and wait up to seven days for their mission companion.

Uhh…

Maggie: So the plan was for Galsariad to sneak in and grab the Jewel?

Ayo: Yup.

Maggie: And then he comes right back?

Ayo: Yup.

Maggie: And he hasn’t come back.

Ayo: Yup.

Irvan: What should we do?

Ayo: Let’s leave town and wait at a rest stop for a week. See if he shows up.

…

Anyway.

The Rivals have the Jewel. This is, as both we and Call of the Netherdeep have established, quite likely. And if it happens, the railroad junction is almost unimaginably bad:

You’re eating breakfast at the Unbroken Tusk while locals chat around you. Through the cacophony, one voice catches your attention.

“Rumor has it they’re going to Rosohna to sell it. Elder Ushru met them and everything, kept whispering while pointing at a huge, shiny amulet on the table. He was talking about ‘destiny’ and other heroic-like words. I think they were the group who won the grand finale yesterday. The amulet looked plenty magical, but even if it isn’t, it’d be worth a fortune. Yeah, they’re traveling down the Emerald Loop today.”

[…]

People are saying that the jewel would sell for over 1,000 gold pieces — maybe twice that if it’s magical, and twice that again if the sellers were to make the long, oversea journey to a trade hub like the desert metropolis of Ank’Harel.

Nothing is forcing the characters to chase down the rivals, but the thought of losing out on such a prize is enough to motivate most adventurers.

That’s it. That’s the hook: Chase the Rivals down and rob them.

“The thought of losing out on such a prize is enough to motivate most adventurers.”

That’s not adventurers. You’re thinking of criminals.

And not even very smart criminals. There’s gotta be easier marks for 1,000 gp than five well-equipped adventurers who already beat you once.

Even if the players do hear these rumors and leap straight to, “Oh, man! We definitely gotta rob those people!” Call of the Netherdeep forgets to include a mechanism for telling them that they’re supposed to go to Bazzoxan.

Sure, they might interrogate the Rivals before/after robbing them. Or maybe they follow them all the way to Bazzoxan before robbing them.

But if not, the entire adventure is literally scripted to derail.

EVERYTHING FAILS TOGETHER

Sadly, the whole campaign is like this. Every transition is a broken, ill-conceived railroad.

One I want to call particular attention to, however, is the transition from Bazzoxan to Ank’Harel, because I think it reveals the fundamental misstep of Call of the Netherdeep here.

To briefly review, the core structure here is:

• The PCs meet one or more of the three researchers in Bazzoxan.
• They go into Betrayers’ Rise.
• They follow one of the researchers back to Bazzoxan, where they join that researcher’s faction.

This seems pretty straightforward, right?

But every step of the way, Call of the Netherdeep transforms this into a tortured disaster.

First, the campaign hides the researchers so that the PCs have to jump through weird, arbitrary, unlabeled hoops to meet them.

The first option is:

• The PCs randomly wander over to the crematorium.
• They decide to stay and help dispose of corpses.
• A researcher named Prolix shows up.

If the PCs don’t go to the crematorium? The campaign breaks. If they don’t help dispose of the corpses? The campaign breaks.

The second option is:

• The PCs eventually wander into the inn.
• Among a number of other patrons, there’s a tiefling in the common room.
• If they don’t talk to the tiefling, the adventure specifically says the tiefling will ignore them.
• If they do talk to the tiefling (who is named Question), they need to mention the Jewel of the Three Prayers.
• If they mention the Jewel, then the third researcher (Aloysia), who has been eavesdropping on this conversation, will be like, “Hey! I’m the NPC who tells you what to do next!”

Don’t randomly talk to the tiefling? The campaign breaks. Don’t decide to spontaneously mention the Jewel (which you could very easily have decided is something you shouldn’t be flashing around) during this specific conversation? The campaign breaks.

This is, to put it politely, a very convoluted path. It’s really unclear to me why they’re locked the plot behind these deliberately obfuscated checkpoints.

To put it less politely, this is video game writing. And, sure, in a video game you can expect the players to keep clicking on NPCs in the tavern until they click on the right tiefling. But it doesn’t translate to the table top at all. There is no display of patrons for the players to click on.

But we’re not done yet.

Aloysia then proposes that she and the PCs should work together. Of course, as we’ve established, the campaign then just assumes the PCs will not accept her offer and pretends it never happened.

The campaign is simultaneously pretending that there’s no way the PCs are working with the Rivals, either. This is important, because, at the end of Betrayers’ Rise, the designers frame up a heavily railroaded “gotcha!” scene where Aloysia, accompanied by the Rivals, shows up and steals the Jewel.

This forced fight (which can’t happen at all if any of these convoluted preconditions is not met), ends with one of two scripted outcomes.

If Aloysia wins, she cracks a teleportation tablet, creating a teleportation circle to Ank’Harel, and announces that the Rivals should follow her. The PCs theoretically have the opportunity to follow her here, but since they’re presumably dead or unconscious, this is unlikely.

If Aloysia loses, she runs away and casts earthquake, triggering a cave-in that blocks the PCs from pursuing her. She then fumbles through her bag and — hilariously — drops two teleportation tablets on the ground while trying to activate a third.

The PCs can then spend 10-20 hours digging their way out, find the teleportation tablets, think to themselves, “This definitely isn’t a trap,” and then use them to follow her.

Now, once the PCs get to Ank’Harel, the book acts as if the PCs are equally likely to join each of the three factions. But that’s not really the case, is it? First, Aloysia has just tried to rob them (and possibly kill them). Remember the Unforgivable Sin of stealing the PCs’ shit? Yeah.

Second, the only way for the PCs to join Aloysia’s faction — the Consortium — is if they raced after her, jumped through the teleportation circle moments after she went through, immediately forgave her for everything, and then signed up on the spot.

I mean… C’mon. Even if the adventure wasn’t doing everything in its power to stop the PCs from doing that, it’s not exactly a plausible outcome, right? “Hey, person who just tried to kill us! We are interested in your ideas and would like to hear more! Do you have a pamphlet or anything we could look over?”

It seems fairly likely to me that all of this would have made a lot more sense earlier in development: You have dynamic, interesting Rivals. The researchers in Bazzoxan would have had clear, ruidium-focused agendas. This would allow the players to make meaningful choices about which faction’s agenda they agree with, and these choices could have been contrasted against the choices of the Rivals, driving the action forward through Bazzoxan and into Ank’Harel.

If the book just presented these as toys for the DM to actively play with, it’s a robust situation rich with possibility.

But then somebody decided that they needed to write a railroad that forces Aloysia to be a maniacal, monologuing villain.

And the whole thing falls apart into nonsense.

The researchers get hidden behind scripted cut scenes in Bazzoxan. The adventure wants to hide what the researchers know (so that there can be Startling Revelations™ in Ank’Harel), so the PCs aren’t given the information to make meaningful choices. Aloysia gets railroaded off the table as a viable ally.

No clear stakes? The choice of researcher becomes arbitrary.

No true choice in researchers? The faction recruitment in Ank’Harel breaks.

All of these threads — all of these broken techniques based on the fundamental flaw of believing that railroading is the only way to link an adventure together — are woven together here. The result is muddy, confusing, difficult to use, and, more often than not, completely broken in actual practice.

It’s easy to look at a moment like this and say, “Well, the writers can’t possibly account for every possibility!”

And you’d be right.

Which is why Call of the Netherdeep SHOULD be focusing on giving the DM — who CAN account for what the group has done — the tools to do so, rather than hamstringing them with unusable scripts.

FACTION MISSIONS

In addition to the shortcomings of Netherdeep’s connective tissue, we now need to talk about the faction missions in Ank’Harel.

Like the faction missions in Dragon Heist, these are very barebones in their presentation.

Unlike the faction missions in Dragon Heist, these aren’t designed to be run as contrapuntal story beats while other stuff is happening. They’re just a linear string of events. So the barebones approach here mostly just means that this phase of the campaign feels incomplete.

The other problem with the faction missions is that… well, they’re pretty bad.

For example, there’s a mission where someone is trying to frame one of the PCs’ friends for stealing a ring by planting it in his pocket. So the PCs mount an investigation to clear their friend’s name.

They find two pieces of evidence:

1. An Insight check reveals that someone has a “guarded expression.”
2. This same person, a researcher in the ruidium-infested ruins of Cael Morrow, has a ruidium infection.

The adventure then confidently announces: “The characters can present their findings to Headmaster Gryz Alakritos.”

…

WHAT findings?

Bizarrely, their NPC friend, whose name they “cleared,” then gives them the ring as a reward.

The stolen ring.

That isn’t his.

Because that was the whole premise of the entire scenario.

The next faction mission features the PCs needing to track down a double agent. This one wraps up when the PCs find two pieces of evidence:

1. An Insight check reveals the agent’s “true intentions and affiliation.”
2. This same person, a researcher in the ruidium-infested ruins of Cael Morrow, has a ruidium infection.

And if you’re thinking, “Justin, you just said that.”

Yes.

Yes, I did.

It’s the exact same setup.

And the conclusion is, once again, “Proof?! Sir, I made an INSIGHT check!”

Add to this the aforementioned problem of multiple faction missions being set in the ruins of Cael Morrow, despite Cael Morrow being too small to support multiple faction missions.

Basically, the faction missions are really bad.

Fortunately, they’re also pointless: The idea is that you have to do these faction missions in order to gain access to Cael Morrow. But it turns out that the impregnable security on the Cael Morrow site consists of… a handful of CR 1 guards who might summon five CR 3 guards if they get a chance.

CONCLUSION

I’ve spent the last couple of sections really breaking down the problems with Call of the Netherdeep, so as we wrap up, I want to mention a few more things that I really like about the book.

First, the monster design is fantastic. Look at this aboleth spawn, it oozes creepiness:

And look at this sword wraith:

Just incredible concepts wedded to fantastic art. In fact, as you’ve seen throughout this review, the art team for Call of the Netherdeep is simply superb from one end of the book to the other.

Speaking of the visual design, I also want to mention the ruidium-inspired design of the book. At the beginning of the campaign, the occasional page will have have a ruidium-veined edge treatment. Over the course of the book, however, these veins grow, until the ruidium appears to be literally taking over the tome.

I don’t know if that’s the work of Senior Graphic Designer Trish Yochum or Graphic Designer Matt Cole, or both, but bravo. Excellent work.

In closing, as I look over the totality of Call of the Netherdeep, I see some familiar themes and elements:

• Faction missions from Dragon Heist
• Corrupting crystals from Legacy of the Crystal Shard
• A three-stage god fight like the one found in Rime of the Frostmaiden
• Deep-diving memory visions to redeem a divinity from Descent Into Avernus

But the synthesis works here. In fact, in all but one case (the faction missions), I think you can safely argue that each individual element works better in Call of the Netherdeep than in its antecedents.

I think there are, as we have seen, some serious issues with structure and logic that will make this campaign much harder to run effectively than it should be. Ultimately, whether you decide to answer the Call of the Netherdeep or not is largely going to depend on whether you think it’s worth the salvage effort to rebuild the core structure of the campaign into something that makes sense.

The things to focus on, I think, are:

• Those excellent dungeons that form big, meaty pillars to build your campaign around.
• The fundamental excellence of the Rivals once your strip away the badly scripted sequences.
• The beautiful and enigmatic lore of Alyxion the Apotheon, which — if properly structured — will draw the players deep into a tragic story of epic proportions and then empower them to provide its conclusion.

Despite my reservations, I recommend Call of the Netherdeep. With a manageable amount of work, I think you’ll find something truly special for you and your players to enjoy.

Style: 5
Substance: 3

Project Leads: James J. Haeck, Matthew Mercer, Christopher Perkins
Writers: James J. Haeck, Makenzie De Armas, LaTia Jacquise, Cassandra Khaw, Sadie Lowry
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Cost: $49.95
Page Count: 224

FURTHER READING
Call of the Netherdeep: Running Betrayers’ Rise
Call of the Netherdeep: Running the Rivals
Remixing Call of the Netherdeep
How to Remix an Adventure

Go to Part 1

THE DUNGEONS

Call of the Netherdeep is studded with a sequence of really cool dungeons:

• Emerald Grotto
• Betrayers’ Rise
• Cael Morrow
• The Netherdeep

Emerald Grotto is the launch point of the campaign. It’s a pretty basic cave design, but the underwater setting gives it some nice flavor. The forked design is also used to structurally highlight the relationship between the PCs and the Rivals.

Betrayers’ Rise is you standard “cyst of evil” affair, but the devil is in the details here. (Pun intended.) The map is lightly xandered, giving the PCs some nice strategic control in their exploration, and the key is drenched in gothic atmosphere.

Cael Morrow is a sunken city. Or, more accurately, a small part of this city. This is probably the weakest of the dungeons, but is still quite good. The back half opens up, allowing for a more freeform exploration of the ruins, and the key is once again excellent in its specific detail.

The Netherdeep is the big finale of the campaign, an extrusion of the Apotheon’s subconscious mind and memory. And, not to sound like a broken record, once again the map is great and the key richly detailed.

Here’s a good example of how great these dungeon keys are:

R2. HALL OF HOLES

The walls of this hallway are covered with carvings that depict a great battle involving mortals, celestials, and fiends. A faint whistling noise emerges from the walls, sounding almost like snoring.

A character who succeeds on a DC 15 Intelligence (History) check recognizes the wall carvings depict the Battle of the Barbed Fields. This fight was a climactic battle of the Calamity, in which the devotees of the Prime Deities broke through the garrison at the Betrayers’ Rise and reached the walls of Ghor Dranas. Prominently depicted in one scene is a proud, melancholy warrior with curly hair carrying a spear and shield. By his side are two figures; a white-haired girl no more than twelve years old, and a young adult woman with hair that flows behind her, turning into a road upon which countless soldiers march. A character who makes a successful DC 10 Intelligence (Religion) check realizes that the latter two are common depictions of the gods Sehanine the Moon Weaver and Avandra the Change Bringer.

There are several things to note here.

First, the boxed text invokes multiple senses, not just sight.

Second, you see generic “there are pretty pictures on the wall” or “there are some statues here” in dungeon keys all the time, but the writer here has taken the effort to get specific with the art: The hall isn’t just covered in carvings; it’s covered in these specific carvings depicting this specific thing.

Third, this effect is enhanced with multiple skill checks allowing one or more PCs to dive even deeper into the lore. This turns the lore into a reward, giving real meaning to the PCs’ abilities and also likely investing the players more deeply in what their abilities have revealed.

In a single room, this attention to detail is nice. Over the course of the entire campaign, it elevates the entire experience. This is the practical method by which the world of Exandria is brought to vivid life in Call of the Netherdeep.

When it comes to the dungeons, however, I do have a quibble.

Taken on their own merits, Betrayers’ Rise and Cael Morrow are both really good dungeons. The problem is that the dungeons are too small for the lore surrounding them.

Betrayers’ Rise, for example, is presented as a sort of Moria or Undermountain: A vast underground complex with depths unexplored and perhaps unexplorable, out of which demons of the Abyss emerge to threaten the town above. But the actual dungeon found in Call of Netherdeep is teeny-tiny, consisting of just sixteen rooms.

To address the mismatch, the writers kind of toss out the idea that “the characters experience a particular version” of Betrayers’ Rise, and that others experience “different configurations” of the dungeon. They also provide “Betrayers’ Rise Encounters” (p. 63) that can be used as inspiration to “expand” the Rise. But ultimately you’re selling one experience and then delivering another.

Betrayers’ Rise does, ultimately, work as presented, even if it’s not ideal. More problematic is Cael Morrow: Here again, the lore treats the drowned city as a vast archaeological site… but only delivers a handful of buildings and seventeen keyed locations.

In Cael Morrow, however, this is not just an aesthetic mismatch; it’s a deeply flawed structure. The campaign is designed with the expectation that the PCs will journey down into Cael Morrow for a series of faction missions (at least three, possibly more). This makes sense if the archaeological expedition is exploring the entirety of the ruined city, but it isn’t. Cael Morrow simply isn’t large enough to support the iterative missions.

Imagine that you give the PCs a faction mission that sends them into a dungeon. And, when that mission is done, there are seven DAYS until they receive their next mission. (And then another seven days between that mission and the one after that.)

What are the PCs going to do?

Well, if they didn’t completely explore the dungeon during the first mission (and they very easily may have), they’re almost certainly going to go back and finish exploring the dungeon.

Again: It’s only seventeen rooms.

And there’s nothing else for them to do in Ank’Harel.

Because Cael Morrow’s design doesn’t match its lore, there’s just no way these faction missions can work as written.

A good chunk of Cael Morrow is also hilariously linear given the nature of these missions.

The way it works is that the Allegiance of Allsight (one of the Ank’Harel factions) has used magical keystones to create regions of the city where the water is held back, making it much easier for them to excavate these sites. In practice, what they’ve done is create a linear corridor of air about 300 feet long.

One of the Allsight faction missions involves the primary archivist, who is concerned because one of his researchers has been missing for three days and he has no idea where she might be.

Where is she?

200 feet away, straight down a linear corridor.

To be clear, the problem here is not that the excavation site is limited to only one small portion of the city. (As I mentioned before, on its own merits the design of Cael Morrow dungeon is pretty good.)

The problem is that everything in the campaign — the NPCs, the faction missions, the lore, the pacing — is pretending this isn’t the case.

Go to Part 3: This Broken Railroad

SPOILERS FOR CALL OF THE NETHERDEEP

Call of the Netherdeep is a campaign set in Exandria, the world of Critical Role created by Matthew Mercer.

I have virtually no knowledge of Critical Role.

I haven’t read the comic books or the tie-in novels. I haven’t watched the animated series. Of the original show itself, I’ve watched a number of clips, a couple of episodes, and Matthew Colville’s phenomenal recap of the Season 1 finale. (Which still brings tears to my eyes.)

I haven’t even had the time to dive into the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount or the Tal’dorei Campaign Setting.

Nonetheless, Call of the Netherdeep is something that I’ve wanted Wizards of the Coast to do for awhile now: Release a sourcebook for a campaign world (e.g., Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount) and then support it with a full campaign book. (Ravnica, Theros, etc. They’d all be more useful with an accompanying campaign book.)

In any case, this review tackles Call of the Netherdeep on its own terms and only its own terms.

OVERVIEW

Call of the Netherdeep starts the PCs at 3^rd level (and eventually wraps up as they hit 12^th level). Things kick off in the coastal village of Jigow, where the PCs have arrived just in time to enjoy the Festival of Merit. While enjoying the festival games, they fall into rivalry with another group of adventurers who are also competing. As the festival draws to a close, both groups race through the Emerald Grotto, an underwater obstacle course, in order to claim a magical spear that has been stuck into the side of a shark.

When the shark is killed, its death throes knock open an underwater temple that has been lost since the time of the Calamity (a semi-legendary apocalypse). Inside the temple, either the PCs or their rivals claim the Jewel of Three Prayers, an artifact which once belonged to Alyxion the Apotheon.

The PCs are then sent to Bazzoxan, a small city that was built around Betrayers’ Rise, a huge temple complex dedicated to the Betrayer Gods and squatting atop a vast dungeon. The Rise had been abandoned since the Calamity, but would-be explorers delved too deep and awoke Abyssal portals. Bazzoxan is now a military compound — the front line in a war against demons and abominations streaming up from below.

While in Bazzoxan, the PCs will run into scholars belonging to three different factions from the distant city of Ank’Harel who have come to Bazzoxan because [SPOILERS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, TELL THE PLAYERS NOTHING]. Heading into the depths of Betrayers’ Rise themselves, the PCs discover another temple that adds extra magical mojo to the Jewel of Three Prayers.

Following one or more of the scholars back to Ank’Harel, the PCs join their faction. After completing a series of faction missions, the PCs are eventually granted access to the ruins of Cael Morrow, a city which was destroyed during the Calamity and now lies sunken below an underground sea beneath Ank’Harel.

Within Cael Morrow, the PCs eventually discover (and enter) the transdimensional prison in which Alyxion the Apotheon has been held since his “death” during the Calamity. Within this prison, the PCs explore manifestations of Alyxion’s memories, learning the true story of what happen to him. In short:

• He was born under the red moon of Ruidus, which is considered bad luck.
• He entire life was, in fact, an endless string of bad luck.
• During the Calamity he prayed to the gods three times for assistance to save those in peril, and three times the gods answered his prayer (creating the Jewel of Three Prayers).
• When Gruumsh attempted to destroy all life on the continent of Marquet with a single blow of his spear, the Apotheon countered the blow with his semi-divine power. Cael Morrow was destroyed, but the rest of the continent was spared.
• The fury of Gruumsh’s blow, combined with Alyxion’s parry and the destruction of Cael Morrow, ripped open an interdimensional space into which the strange energies of Ruidus flowed. This was the Netherdeep, and it became Alyxion’s prison.

Recently the Netherdeep has been leaking, its strange energies escaping in the form of ruidium – a reddish crystal that is both immensely powerful and also corrupting. The PCs have been encountering ruidium since the beginning of the campaign, and it turns out the factions in Ank’Harel want access to its source so that they can either exploit it or destroy it (depending on their individual agendas).

At the campaign’s finale, the PCs confront the Alyxion in three different forms, ultimately deciding whether to kill the Apotheon, redeem him, or unleash him. A decision which will have consequences for all of Exandria.

THE RIVALS

So if we strip away the Critical Role tie-in, what’s the log line for Call of the Netherdeep? What’s the pitch? Why would you pick this campaign over any other campaign?

Well, as you can see from the summary, this is an epic adventure: From humble beginnings, the PCs journey across vast distances to save the world.

There are, of course, any number of such campaigns, but Call of the Netherdeep is a well-formed one. The transition from the gothic depths of Betrayers’ Rise directly to the sun-drenched streets of Ank’Harel, for example, is beautifully vivid, and speaks to the varied and richly realized milestones in the PCs’ journey. The underwater themes of the adventure — in the Emerald Grotto, Cael Morrow, and the Netherdeep —  also give it a distinctive flair.

But Call of the Netherdeep’s truly unique calling card is the Rivals: Five NPCs who form their own adventuring party and dog the PCs’ heels throughout the campaign.

So my elevator pitch for Call of the Netherdeep would be:

It’s an epic adventure, like the Lord of the Rings. But you have a group of rivals who are competing with you for glory.

The best thing about the Rivals are the rivals themselves: Ayo Jabe, Dermot Wurder, Galsariad Ardyth, Irvan Wastewalker, and Maggie Keeneyes. Each is given a great backstory and strong personality, which are then expertly presented in three or four paragraph briefings. Each is also given an individual goal to pursue.

The result is very easy to pick up and play, with lots of varied opportunities for cool interactions. In fact, if you paired these up with character sheets, you’d have a great party of pregenerated PCs, which speaks to just how solid these characters are.

The Rivals are then given a really great introduction, being individually introduced during the festival games in Jigow, so that the players have a chance to form one-on-one relationships with them (instead of the Rivals just becoming an undifferentiated mob).

Unfortunately, in practice, the Rivals are then marred (possibly crippled) by the adventure’s execution.

The core problem is that the campaign is railroaded. Or, more accurately, that it’s railroaded badly. We’ll discuss this in more detail momentarily, but as far as the Rivals are concerned, this railroading hamstrings their ability to actually have a rivalry. A rivalry generally requires you and your rival to be in competition to achieve a common goal and/or to demonstrate your superiority in a field of endeavor.

But like most bad railroads, Call of the Netherdeep (a) scripts predetermined outcomes and (b) struggles with presenting a clear, actionable agenda.

So the rivalry largely works at the beginning of the campaign — when the PCs and the Rivals are both clearly aimed at winning the Emerald Grotto race — but then rapidly falls apart. You can’t race to achieve a goal before your rivals do when the campaign has failed to define what your goal is. Nor can you meaningfully race someone if they’re scripted to show up in the next cutscene.

The other major problem is that the relationship between the Rivals and the PCs is defined entirely by attitude: The Rivals are Friendly, Indifferent, or Hostile.

This gauge is basically designed to produce fail-states in the rivalry.

If the Rivals are Hostile, for example, they are constantly framed up to either:

• try to steal the magical artifact from the PCs; and/or
• attack the PCs and try to kill them.

In my experience, there are two Unforgivable Sins that an NPC can commit:

1. They can kill a PC’s pet.
2. They can steal the PC’s shit.

Anything else (even assassination attempts) can probably be forgiven, but if an NPC does either of these things? The PCs will never forgive them and will almost certainly kill them on sight.

So if the Rivals go Hostile, the overwhelmingly likely outcome is that the PCs will kill them very early in the campaign. And then, obviously, no more rivalry.

On the other hand, if the Rivals go Friendly, the logical outcome is that they’ll offer to work with the PCs. As Call of the Netherdeep says:

If [Ayo Jabe] gets the sense that the characters have stumbled onto something big, her eyes grow wide. She decides that she and her group want a piece of the action and proposes that they travel with the characters, saying that there’s safety in numbers. A character makes a successful DC 13 Wisdom (Insight) check realizes that she isn’t hiding anything and wants nothing more than to be part of a grand adventure.

It seems rather likely that the PCs will agree with Ayo Jabe’s logic… and now you have five GMPCs to deal with.

This, honestly, feels like a huge headache to me. Even running one NPC companion can create issues with spotlight time and bias (perceived and actual), as I discuss in more detail here. But the really big problem is combat balance: Running 5^th Edition D&D for a group of ten PCs is infamously difficult because the action economy means results in any encounter with a small number of opponents (one or two or three) just getting absolutely curb-stomped.

Crucially, Call of the Netherdeep is not designed for this: The encounters are neither CR-balanced for ten party members, nor are they designed for large groups. Betrayers’ Rise, for example, is made up entirely of encounters with 1-3 opponents, and will be absolutely steamrolled if the PCs and Rivals have teamed up.

The campaign clearly knows it has a problem here, so — even though it explicitly mentions that Ayo Jabe will offer to work with the PCs — it just silently assumes that the PCs won’t do that.

Problem solved, right?

No.

Rather the opposite, actually, because the book, as part of its bad railroading, just blithely includes multiple pre-scripted scenes which assume that the Rivals are definitely not working with the PCs.

This is actually something that Call of the Netherdeep does quite often, and it’s honestly kind of bizarre: An NPC will approach the PCs, offer to work with them… and then the book just assumes that they don’t do that.

Maybe the authors have just literally never had players willing to work with NPCs before?

Regardless, the result is badly broken.

To sum up: The Rivals are incredibly cool. But if you run them the way the book tells you to, then somewhere around Chapter 2 they will end up either:

• dead;
• no longer rivals of the PCs; and/or
• breaking the campaign.

I think we can mark this down as “rough around the edges.”

Go to Part 2: The Dungeons

I think we need to start with a little disambiguation. This is NOT a review of Ptolus: City by the Spire, the incredible 700-page city supplement originally designed for D&D 3^rd Edition, recently adapted to both D&D 5^th Edition and the Cypher System, and the basis for my own In the Shadow of the Spire campaign.

This is a review of Ptolus: City of Adventure, an anthology of three adventures each sold separately as PDFs:

• The Doctrine of Ghul
• The Runeblood Blessing
• Return of the Ebon Hand

(Also not to be confused for Ptolus: City By the Spire, the graphic novel by Monte Cook and Caanan White. Although the odds of that error being made are probably significantly lower.)

The adventures are designed with the expectation that you’ll be using them in conjunction with the Ptolus sourcebook, but it wouldn’t be terribly difficult to adapt them to any urban D&D setting.

They are dual-statted for use with both 5^th Edition and the Cypher System. I usually find dual-statted books very awkward and frequently confusing, but Monte Cook Games cleverly uses sidebars and iconography to clearly delineate the two sets of stats. The result is easy to read and easy to use.

SPOILERS FOR THE ADVENTURES!

DOCTRINE OF GHUL

In Bruce R. Cordell’s Doctrine of Ghul, an incomplete manuscript purportedly written by Ghul the Skull-King (an evil overlord from the history of Ptolus) has surfaced and is being promulgated through the city. Those who read the manuscript, however, discover that (a) they are cursed to die unless they finish reading it and (b) it’s incomplete, so they can’t do that.

Whether it’s the PCs who get cursed by the incomplete doctrine, someone they care about, or someone who’s willing to pay them for help, they’ll have to journey into Ghul’s Labyrinth — the vast dungeons beneath Ptolus which once served as the barracks for Ghul’s legions and the laboratories for his arcanists — and visit three locations where the missing passages of the Doctrine can be found.

Truth be told, the metaphysics and background of this whole framing device is a dog’s breakfast. The “Doctrine” is actually a fake, created by a wizard named Alberek who wants to bring Ghul back from the dead. Alberek believes that each time someone finishes reading the full Doctrine there’s a chance that they’ll bring Ghul back from the dead… so, naturally, rather than just sending out full copies of the Doctrine, he’s hidden chunks of the text underground so that people have to go adventuring to read the full Doctrine. (Even though this isn’t necessary and, if you copy out the passages, you can bring them back to the surface and have people read them.) Also the Doctrine isn’t completely fake, it’s based on fragments of text which may have actually been written by Ghul. Also also, each time someone finishes reading the Doctrine and doesn’t miraculously resurrect Ghul, Alberek teleports to their location and kills them. For… reasons?

Bit of nonsense really.

But here’s the thing: This whole framing device is, ultimately, just a way to get the PCs to visit three locations within Ghul’s Labyrinth.

• The Frozen Crypt
• The Breeding Pits of Formless Hunger
• The Galchutt Cyst

Each of these locations is a completely independent mini-dungeon, and they’re all quite excellent. Incredibly creepy ambience, clever encounters, and cool lore make each one a delightful gem of dungeon design.

For example, in the Breeding Pits the PCs will encounter an airborne pathogen which subverts their immune systems and uses them to begin creating a grey goo. As they expectorate or vomit forth the strange substance, it becomes animate and begins joining together to form strange servitors seeking to continue the ancient work of the researchers who once labored here.

That’s the kind of idea which elevates a simple dungeon crawl into a truly memorable experience, and each of these locations are studded with stuff like this.

So here’s the bottom line for me: Jettison the wonky framing device and you’re left with three really great mini-dungeons that you can use to flesh out any journey into or through Ghul’s Labyrinth. That’s a fantastic tool for your toolkit! And makes it more than worthwhile to grab a copy of Doctrine of Ghul.

(Just make sure you read the whole thing.)

Grade: B-

THE RUNEBLOOD BLESSING

The Runeblood Blessing by Sean K. Reynolds is a brilliant example of how to prep and run urban adventures.

The concept is that a sorcerer named Vlenn has perfected a magical ritual that will grant people a blood-red rune that gives them a magical power (like blur or invisibility or feather fall). She offers the ritual for an extremely affordable price, and empowered runeblooders begin showing up throughout the city. It’s the democratization of magic and it upsets the existing structures of power in myriad ways.

There’s just one little problem: Some of the runeblooders are dropping dead.

So many published adventures would take this incredibly cool concept and immediately fail to realize its expansive, transformative potential by locking it into some form of linear structure. Reynolds’ skips right past this potential pitfall by instead providing an adventure toybox for the GM to actively play with.

The presentation of these toys can be a little sloppy in places, but it boils down to:

• A series of background events combined with incidental encounters that allow the runeblood blessing to become engrained into your campaign world.
• An investigation track that the PCs might choose to proactively look into the “runeblood sickness” as it begins to emerge through the background events.
• An investigation into various crimes being committed by runeblood-enabled gangs and cat burglars.
• An investigation into Vlenn’s operation, culminating in a location crawl or raid at her headquarters in the Warrens.
• An otherworldly dungeoncrawl in the Shadow of Ptolus (an evil demiplane) where the PCs explore the surreal umbral fortress from which the runeblood blessing’s power flows.
• A set of three Ptolus “side scenes” that further flesh out the life of the city.

The important thing to recognize is that these are all independent (yet overlapping) adventure elements. What makes The Runeblood Blessing so cool is that there’s not some specific moment at which The Adventure™ begins. There’s not one specific point where somebody shows up and says, “You should go on this adventure now.”

Instead, there is this vast, ongoing event that’s happening throughout the entire city. It’s not happening specifically to the PCs. It’s happening to the city. To everyone. And it’s up to the players to decide if, how, and when they’re going to choose to interact with these events: Do they buy a runeblood blessing? Blackmail Vlenn? Investigate the criminals?

The result will add a deeply rewarding layer to your Ptolus campaign, bringing the city to life and making it feel huge to your players. That scope and vibrancy, in turn, will make the PCs feel incredibly important once they get involved.

Highly recommended not only as an adventure in its own right, but also as a nearly perfect exemplar of how to create your own urban adventures.

Grade: A-

RETURN OF THE EBON HAND

The final adventure in the book — Return of the Ebon Hand by Monte Cook and Sean K. Reynolds — is another phenomenal example of how you can/should design adventures for your Ptolus campaign.

There are two things I love here.

First, Return of the Ebon Hand is a sequel. The adventure assumes that the PCs have already routed the Ebon Hand from their temple, which is presented as an adventure location in the core Ptolus sourcebook. Although it can’t be entirely sure how those events might have played out in your campaign, it offers several options and some guidance on how you can adapt the adventure to make it fit.

This is such a great example of how events in your campaign can/should spark additional adventures as events develop over time. (I might have a soft spot here because, in my own campaign, the PCs routed the Ebon Hand and then also had to deal with the legacy of their actions in a subsequent adventure.)

Note: I’ll also note that you don’t have to run this adventure as a sequel. The published adventure notes the possibility of assuming that NPC heroes or the City Watch had cleaned out the Temple of the Ebon Hand, and that perhaps those events could be used as background events in your campaign. But it would also be fairly easy to tweak things so that both the Temple of the Ebon Hand and the New Temple of the Ebon Hand are active at the same time. You could even put Fulton’s Journal, as described below, in the Temple of the Ebon Hand where the PCs can discover it.

The second thing I love about Return of the Ebon Hand is how it showcases using multiple scenario hooks that all point to the same scenario.

The background of the adventure sees the vestiges of the Ebon Hand flee from the destruction of their temple and eventually reorganize into a new temple built around a Pit of Insanity within Ghul’s Labyrinth. Harnessing this powerful artifact of chaos, the Ebon Hand once again begins experimenting with the human mutations which are the heart of their faith and through which they believe they will achieve transcendence.

Their use of the Pit kicks its chaotic power into high gear, and it begins manifesting strange effects in the city above and the dungeon nearby. This includes resurrecting various dead criminals in the crypts of the Prison.

As with The Runeblood Blessing, several background events are presented to integrate this background into your campaign. Then Cook and Reynolds present three scenario hooks:

• The PCs can investigate the chaotic manifestations, eventually tracking them back to the house that the cultists are using to access their underground temple.
• The PCs can investigate the resurrected criminals (who begin causing trouble throughout the city).
• The PCs can be come into possession of journal written by a delver named Fulton, whose adventuring party explored the area of Ghul’s Labyrinth where the Ebon Hand has now established its temple.

The cool thing is that you can deploy all three of these scenario hooks simultaneously. (The PCs might pursue one of them or they might want to pursue all three of them.) The even cooler thing is that it’s not immediately obvious that all three clues point to the same dungeon crawl!

Each hook not only points to a different problem/opportunity (chaos manifestations, resurrected criminals, an enigmatic journal), it also points to a completely different entrance to this section of Ghul’s Labyrinth. So, for example, the PCs might explore the prison crypts, follow the tunnels back to the lair of the resurrected criminals, and then realize, “Hey! I think these tunnels match those in Fulton’s journal!” And then they might explore a bit more and discover the Ebon Hand cultists that have been making headlines in the newssheets for the past several weeks!

In short, it’s a rich, multi-dimensional adventure environment that I think you’ll find really rewarding in actual play.

There are, unfortunately, a couple of flaws here that should be noted.

First, I found the cartography a little underwhelming. There’s some very nice xandering here (including, but not limited to the multiple entrances), but there’s a lot of “square rooms joined by long hallways.” I would have liked a few more geographically distinctive set pieces and perhaps a greater sense of the purpose for which these corridors were originally made. (This should not be interpreted as a knock on the key, which is studded with lots of interesting rooms.)

Second, Fulton’s journal is a really scenario hook and could be a really cool prop. But the adventure chooses to chop the journal up and print each entry directly next to the room which it’s describing. Expect to do some extra work stitching these together, and then even more work filling in the significant lacuna that you’ll immediately discover. (If you don’t do this, your players will find it virtually impossible to get any meaningful utility out of the journal.)

But these quibbles should be understood as exactly that: Quibbles.

Return of the Ebon Hand is a very, very good adventure that’s also a perfect bookend to The Doctrine of Ghul, nicely showcasing a different facet of Ghul’s Labyrinth.

Grade: B+

Style: 5
Substance: 4

Authors: Bruce R. Cordell, Sean K. Williams, Monte Cook
Publisher: Monte Cook Games
Cost: $29.95 (Physical) / $14.97 (PDF)
Page Count: 96

Buy Now!

SPOILERS FOR CANDLEKEEP MYSTERIES

Candlekeep Mysteries is an adventure anthology for 5^th Edition D&D featuring seventeen adventures — one each for every level from 1^st to 16^th (plus an extra one for 4^th). The central conceit is that the hook for each adventure is a book: You find a book at the great library of Candlekeep. That book contains a mystery. You solve the mystery.

(The hook for the book is that the hooks are books? Try saying that five times fast.)

It’s a great premise. It gives the individual authors a huge amount of latitude in creating unique and imaginative scenarios. You can easily imagine an entire campaign where the PCs are a specialized team of acolytes or specialists working for Candlekeep to investigate new books being added to the collection (or resolving “cold cases” from the forbidden shelves), but it also makes it trivial to pluck out any one scenario and use it as a one-shot with the Dungeon Master having a huge amount of freedom in how they choose to actually use the scenarios: You can, after all, put a book basically anywhere.

It’s unfortunate, therefore, that the book so consistently fails to deliver on this promised premise. The problem is that Candlekeep Mysteries doesn’t trust the players to be tantalized by the strange mysteries at their fingertips. What if they open the book and — oh, no! — aren’t interested in it? So, with a few exceptions, every scenario in the anthology starts with a book… and then almost immediately has an NPC pop in to tell the PCs exactly what they’re supposed to be doing and often offering them a cash payment to do it.

The frequent result is an unnecessary railroad that simultaneously locks the adventure tightly to Candlekeep (since it now depends not on the book, but on a specific set of Candlekeep NPCs) and greatly limits the utility of the book. It’s particularly frustrating in those scenarios where the authors were clearly writing to the premise, but the railroad was then lathered on in development. In these scenarios, you get books with weird mysteries in them… and then an NPC pops into the room and solves the mystery for you before giving you a To Do List.

Despite this systemic failure, many of the adventures in Candlekeep Mysteries nevertheless succeed. In some cases, they succeed brilliantly. And so we’re going to take a look at each of them in turn.

CANDLEKEEP GAZETTEERS

Before we dive into that, however, let’s take a quick moment to look at the brief gazetteer of Candlekeep that’s included in the book.

If you’re not familiar with Candlekeep, it’s a library-fortress built along the Sword Coast in the Forgotten Realms. It’s the Library of Alexandria on steroids. In order to access the library, you need to offer Candlekeep a book which does not already exist in its collection. (This can be a great adventure seed in its own right.) Even after you’ve gotten your foot in the door, however, there are layers of secrets to be peeled away within the strange and labyrinthine buildings and vaults.

In 2020, about a year before Candlekeep Mysteries came out, there was a DMs Guild supplement called Elminster’s Candlekeep Companion. I reviewed the book in June 2020, and I thought it very, very good. So one of my first questions as I sat down to read Candlekeep Mysteries was actually: Will this book render the Companion by Justice Arman, Anthony Joyce-Rivera, M.T. Black, and others obsolete?

The answer: Not at all. In fact, I would say that it actually super-charges it.

And this appears to be the thoughtful and intentional effort of the team at Wizards of the Coast. To take one simple, visual example of this, consider the incredible poster map created by Marco Bernardini for the Candlekeep Companion and the equally impressive poster map created by Mike Schley for Candlekeep Mysteries, as illustrated by these insets:

These maps are not just similar. It’s the same place mapped from a different perspective.

And the beautiful result is that both maps complement each other.

What’s true visually here is true in general: Candlekeep Mysteries provides a good, well-rounded briefing on Candlekeep as a setting. Elminster’s Candlekeep Companion goes deep, with a ton of play-oriented material that will add a ton of value to anyone running the scenarios from Candlekeep Mysteries.

I’m not here to regurgitate my review of the Companion, but check it out if you’re thinking about grabbing a copy of Candlekeep Mysteries. It’s like peanut butter and chocolate.

THE ADVENTURES

THE JOY OF EXTRADIMENSIONAL SPACES (Michael Polkinghorn) is a good scenario. The PCs come to Candlekeep to meet a researcher and find them missing. The subsequent investigation leads them to a hidden extradimensional sanctum, where they have to solve a puzzle to figure out the passphrase home.

The sanctum uses a hub-and-spoke design for exploration and is studded with flavorful environments. There’s a nice mix of roleplaying and combat encounters with the surviving experiments and constructs of the mage (although having a few of these encounters designed to go either way, instead of each being clearly designed for specifically combat or specifically roleplaying would have been appreciated).

There are a handful of continuity errors, but the one significant flaw here is that all of the PCs need to go through the portal together and get stuck. The scenario’s whole premise breaks if only one or two PCs go through first to scout things out: When the portal snaps shut, the PCs back with the book can just open the portal again.

Even if all the PCs go through the portal at the same time, all they need to do is tell someone at Candlekeep what the password for opening the portal is (or leave a note) and the scenario similarly breaks.

I’m honestly confused how this survived playtesting, and it’s not an easy problem to fix if you keep the metaphysics the way they’re set up in the adventure, but there are a few different solutions that aren’t too difficult to graft into place. So this should not, in the grand scheme of things, overly detract from the top line here: Good adventure.

Grade: B-

MAZFROTH’S MIGHTY DIGRESSIONS (Alison Huang) is a really nice, tight scenario that demonstrates Huang’s trademark style of layering complexity into her antagonists: The PCs are sent to investigate some criminals who are indirectly defrauding Candlekeep and putting people in danger. Except it turns out the criminals aren’t aware of the true dangers of their actions and their motivations are closer to desperate altruism.

… until you take a closer look and all the ethics turn murky.

The hook is that the PCs are attacked by a book that they’re reading in Candlekeep. It turns out that this is the third such incident in recent weeks, all occurring with books that have recently been donated to the library. When the PCs investigate the source of these books, the trail leads them back to a bookseller in Baldur’s Gate.

(You could experiment with this hook by having the book that comes alive and starts attacking people be the one that the PCs themselves submitted to gain entry to Candlekeep! This would sacrifice some of the intrigue, since the PCs would know where they got the book, but crank up the stakes on the hook, since the PCs would now be responsible for the situation.)

The meat of this scenario, as I say, is that there’s no simple or straightforward solution. The villains aren’t villains (except they are?), and it’s not hard to imagine the PCs getting themselves tangled in knots trying to unravel the complications here. It’s an elegant bit of adventure writing.

Grade: B

BOOK OF RAVENS (Christopher Perkins) is, to put it bluntly, bafflingly bad.

The first thing to understand is that this isn’t really an adventure. It’s more of an extended scenario hook: “Book of Ravens” leads the PCs to an isolated chateau where they can be recruited by a secret guild of wereravens who monitor the Shadowfell and fights its evils.

There’s nothing wrong with setting up an entire campaign premise.

The problem is that literally nothing in the scenario makes sense.

Let’s start with the hook: The PCs find a treasure map in a book that leads to the chateau.

Why is the map there?

Well, 150 years ago a member of the wereraven society decided that they should recruit new members by putting the map in an obscure book at Candlekeep on the off-chance that somebody reading the book would (a) follow it and (b) be the sort of person to join their secret society.

That’s not necessarily the worst marketing idea I’ve ever seen, but…

Actually, no. That’s definitely the worst marketing idea I’ve ever seen.

And I guess the proof is in the pudding here because no one HAS found the map in the past 150 years. Although maybe this wereraven society was running a huge ARG and these TR3AZURR MAPZZ were being spammed everywhere. Outhouse in Daggerdale? Treasure map in the toilet paper! The Well of Entry at the Yawning Portal was choked full of them. This map is just the forgotten detritus of a huge 14^th century fad.

Okay, regardless: Treasure map! Treasure maps are cool! Puzzling them out! Figuring out how the map relates to the territory! Following a treasure map is a cool adventure!

… one that they didn’t include in this book. “Book of Ravens” instead chooses to literally say, “Please design this adventure yourself.”

Hmm. All right. That’s fine. The real focus is on getting recruited by the wereravens, right? And the bulk of the scenario is dedicated to describing the secret sociey’s cool chateau hideout in detail. If you decided to embrace this campaign concept using, say, the Ravenloft sourcebook, having all this detail for the society’s hideout would be really useful!

… if any of it made a lick of sense.

Which it doesn’t.

First, at least 150 years ago (because that’s when they ran the ineffectual ARG) everyone in the chalet died and the wereravens moved in. But, despite living there for 150 years, they’ve done literally nothing to fix the place up: Every single room still lies in decaying ruin as a testament to the Brantifax family who built the place and then died in various gothic tragedies.

150 years! Multiple generations of wereravens!

 Second, the wereravens came to the chalet because there’s a shadow crossing into the Shadowfell here. They monitor the crossing, keeping tabs on whatever crosses over.

… except the end of the scenario reveals that the shadow crossing has literally never been used. Not once. Not ever.

The wereravens have been monitoring a closed, unused door for One. Hundred. And. Fifty. Years.

Third, the wereraven society’s modus operandi is to find evil magical items and secure them, removing their evil from the world. When the PCs arrive, in fact, the society is currently discussing what they should do with an evil statue of Orcus that they’ve just gotten their claws on.

If the PCs don’t interrupt the meeting, the ravens conclude that the statue should be hidden here in the chalet.

Three important facts:

1. They’ve been doing this for 150+ years.
2. They hide the items they find in the chalet.
3. There are no other such items at the chalet.

… is this literally the first time they’ve ever done this?

In any case, this is how the scene plays out:

Wereraven 1: We should hide it here in the chalet.

Wereraven 2: Good idea!

And then Wereraven 2 hops over to the corner of the room, drops the statue on the floor, and piles some random rubble on top of it.

Job done!

(There’s rubble lying around, of course, because, once again, they’ve done literally zero cleaning in the chalet for the past 150 years.)

This is unusable nonsense.

Grade: F

A DEEP AND CREEPING DARKNESS (Sarah Madsen) is one of the best scenarios I’ve seen in recent years. It’s actually been awhile since I read an adventure I would run without making any changes and it’s a pleasure to find one here.

In “A Deep and Creeping Darkness,” the PCs are hired by a mining consortium: A few decades back there was a small village with a platinum mine that was abandoned. The consortium has found the records detailing the mine, but they don’t know why it was abruptly abandoned. They have, however, heard that there’s a trove of documents from the survivors that was deposited at Candlekeep and they’d like the PCs to investigate and determine if it’s safe to the re-open the mine.

When the PCs go to investigate, of course, they have an opportunity to end the horror which plagued the mining village in its final days.

What makes this scenario sing are the personal stories that Madsen laces into the experience. These stories are layered, but also presented in myriad ways: A journal. Meeting with survivors. Clues in the ruins themselves.

Even better, the PCs are invited to become a part of these stories, bringing closure to the tangled emotions, painful enigmas, and unfinished business of those final, chaotic days.

Meanwhile, in a contrapuntal rhythm with these stories of loss and nostalgia, Madsen weaves a creepy horror laced with suspense: The events of the past begin to echo into the present as the same horror threatens to sweep over the PCs.

And then, of course, there is the ultimate closure, as the PCs end the horror which destroyed the town and, ultimately, help to bring the town back to life.

It’s just fabulous stuff.

The only thing I’ll flag is a small bit of undisclosed homework for the GM: A NPC named Lukas “can give them a rough map of the village.” But no such handout is included in the published adventure, so you’ll want to take a few minutes to sketch it out. (It’s probably also worth working up the titular journal that the PCs find at Candlekeep as a lore book handout.)

Grade: A

Go to Part 2