I think the only worthwhile thing I have to add to the Caleb/Veth induced labor discussion is—I’m incredibly confused why people are mad at Caleb himself about it. Liam and/or Sam I completely understand, but Caleb was being controlled and twisted by an evil parasite. He tried to murder the Nein. He was not in his right mind.
Thoughts on the accelerated pregnancy? It felt very...to put it mildly...odd
Hi anon,
I do have some thoughts, and I'm going to keep this pretty simple and straightforward as I know it's a fraught topic.
How anyone else feels about the accelerated pregnancy are their own feelings colored by their own experiences/opinions, which are valid to have and feel, but ultimately do not have any bearing on what the cast should or should not have done in this situation, nor, really, what I'm going to say.
It's like, objectively fucked up. It's also in the "objectively fucked up things happen live show." Like, they had to set Caleb's childhood home on fire - not only could they not stop it, they could not change it or even be bystanders. To escape, they had to set the house on fire themselves. Specifically, this particular brand of horror - loss of bodily autonomy - is not only inherent to the premise of the show and thus tonally coherent (see below for further discussion of that nuance) but the Mighty Nein as a whole - it is a party that comes together in the wake of traumas that deprived them, in part or in whole, of choice. Like, I am not saying that body horror and loss of bodily autonomy aren't upsetting; but I am saying that this was a case of body horror and loss of bodily autonomy in the horror and loss of autonomy show for the horror and loss of autonomy party.
Veth is, like all these characters, a fictional construct. She is pregnant because Sam Riegel decided to make her so at the Fjorester Wedding live show as a bit, because, again, she's not real and so she does not in fact experience pregnancy as a potential consequence of sex unless Sam wants it to be a consequence. I don't think the language we use about actual irl pregnant people precisely applies because like, well, yes, I believe in the strongest terms possible that irl pregnant people have a right to choose, but unless you are specifically setting up an abortion storyline with intent, you could just like, not have your D&D character become pregnant in the first place if that is not the direction in which you wish to take them. As Sam had forgotten about the pregnancy in the first place, and then he chose to show Veth putting together a Zemnian Ikea crib while barely pregnant, instead of saying "eh let's retcon that" or "yeah, Veth has since seen an abortion provider, what happens in Radio City stays in Radio City" I do in fact think the player intention was honored.
So continuing along that line: I think what many people are responding to is that when faced with the accelerated pregnancy, ie, when Liam, in the "Horror of Deprival Of Choice" one-shot, made that call, Sam played it as extremely comedic, which felt tonally off to them given the subject matter. Which is extremely valid, but like, that's the choice he made (and the rest of the cast took that cue and played into the way he was playing it and picked up on that tone, including the one person at the table who has given birth). Liam initiated the birth scene, but like, Sam is the one who chose to cast Thunderwave from Veth's vagina and I feel like that really needs to be a core part of the conversation.
tl;dr I mean yeah it was in poor taste but I think what a lot of people are actually responding to is that Sam set up a hook for Veth as a bit and then forgot about it and then carried it out as a bit when they were hoping for a more serious exploration of the topic, which is valid, but like, that's what he did.
Veth calling Caleb the best dunamancer indicates to me 1) she is aware of this particular pedantry in the Widogast-Thelyss household and 2) she uses it to piss Essek off specifically. And I love that for her
#projekt funball spoilers#beacon spoilers#cr spoilers#also laughing about the widogast-thelyss household#purely cuz it just made me think of how petty and pedantic the publication author order debate has to be over there#you just know this is a whole thing every time#and surely there are different standards in the empire vs the dynasty that they both think are better than the other @essektheylyss
#they are arguing over citation methods and author order and how to label a figure#it is horrible and there are no survivors#and Veth is out here suggesting Fantasy Chicago just to spice things up @artificialhaunting
One thing that gets lost in ship discourse (or its hyper-positive opposite) is that regardless of your feelings on a ship, in order to tell a story, the character relationships do and should have an impact on a character's story arc, and not all relationships are going to offer the same emotional weight throughout any given character's story.
This is particularly true of actual play, wherein each player character is running a separate story as a protagonist, and therefore you have to consider each of them as an individual thread within one larger narrative, on top of the narrative itself.
That being said, the farther you get into the story and the closer to the end you are, the ways those threads can interweave get culled, simply by circumstances. Relationships (platonic, romantic, familial, etc) change over time, and whether they are narratively compelling changes as well. In contrast, "ship" is generally used to suggest a dynamic an individual audience member finds compelling, which may or may not have anything to do with the narrative, even if the dynamic is interesting for reasons of narrative potential (that isn't ultimately explored within canon). These are distinct concepts in terms of analysis. So as a disclaimer, this post is about character relationships within the narrative as it exists—essentially, what makes the story that exists work as well as it does, in the end.
Now that we've got all that out of the way, let's talk about Caleb.
Caleb's problem for much of the campaign is one of survival and self-preservation. His goal is simply to last long enough to find a way to go back in time. Because that is a very open goal, it doesn't inherently have much to tie him to another character in a relationship sense. He is not looking for that, he does not see himself as worthy of it, and it's really not a necessary narrative question, regardless of what attraction he does have.
But over time (and, I would argue, in a way that is fairly singular among the Nein, but I won't get into that here), his priorities begin to shift. Many of his needs are now met in ways that they previously weren't, allowing him to fully consider what he wants. For instance, between the start of the war and the time they reach Xhorhas, he has changed his mind about becoming involved in this war—because he is not being forced into it by possible conscription. He has significantly more options than he did at the start.
What he ends up realizing, as he finds the opportunity to put an end to the war, is that he cannot trust his own judgment. There is near universal support to end the war—even the nations involved are there because of what they view as existential threats. That opinion is not in question. But everything else is. Caleb is a victim of manipulation and brainwashing, and this is very apparent when he starts pleading with the scourger prisoner of war to give him some kind of proof that people like him can change.
And this is not something that anyone else of the Nein can offer him. They can tell him that they think he is a good person and that they trust him, but because of his history—and because he knows how smart he is, and how far he can fall—this isn't something he can take at face value, especially given that they have not seen or known him at his worst, and have not experienced it either.
Yasha may be able to offer some guidance in that area, but she is working through similar issues at both a different pace and in different ways than he is—she isn't seeking any situation where she would make potentially world-shaping decisions or have influence over others like he would. His goals are singularly risky. Veth comes closest to this, in that she very briefly considers prolonging the war to alleviate her own suffering, but it's not a decision she's ever forced to make.
(Honestly, thinking about this, an arc in which Veth does take that deal with Isharnai is a fascinating alternative universe to consider—it would certainly give her the opportunity to relate to Caleb in this way, but it would probably take another fifty episodes before Caleb could even bring himself to consider forgiving her, given it would be in direct conflict to the one thing he's been working at for a third of the campaign up until then. Still, a fascinating consideration!)
So between Caleb attempting to sway the scourger and going to Astrid's house in secret, this is the point at which it seems like the Nein cannot help him do the rest of the work. They have done a lot to get him here and considering what else he wants! But they can't offer him what that is, which is essentially tangible corroboration of what they've already offered.
And at this point in the campaign when taken as a whole, there's only one character who can actually offer that. Because to have real emotional weight, what Caleb is looking for is someone who is as smart as he has, who has made a similarly horrific decision even in spite of that intelligence, and who has now committed to actual change.
It's the commitment to actual change that is difficult, because it requires a support structure—and in hindsight, there's not enough time left to build that up for someone like Astrid or Eadwulf, but it's already partially in place for Essek.
(We can debate all day long about what could've been different if the hiatus never happened, or the campaign had lasted longer, but this is specifically about the campaign that we have. I think there is also an argument to be made that Astrid or Eadwulf would've required a much longer and more intensive timeframe to reach that point even if the campaign had continued than the format really offered, because they have preconceived notions about Caleb that complicates their ability to take what he says at face value even if they care about him succeeding in his goals—but that's also not relevant to this point.)
But I do think this is why Essek progresses very quickly, and is largely committed to aiding them by 124—he already has been aiding them, and has expressed loyalty to them above anyone else.
This is not as much of a leap as it may appear to some, because even by 91 and 97, he had done significant introspection on his own time. This is only a continuation of how he has been characterized thus far. He's expressed doubt from a very early point, whereas Astrid does not begin to express doubt (regardless of whether she feels it, because this is about capacity for willing admittance) until after the dinner with Trent.
What ends up happening is that Essek's the one who actually calls Caleb on things. He gives him an ultimatum with the conversation about Trent when the Nein won't. He offers reason and perspective in the paper room when the rest of the Nein get impatient. He checks off all of the boxes of what Caleb is looking for (which is essentially a narrative mirror), and very early into the Nein's trip through Aeor, Caleb seems to have forgiven him, and his fears and misgivings erode from there.
Only this corroboration, because his opinion of Essek is specifically about his opinion of his own capacity for change, allows him to recognize that returning to the past would simply make him the same person he had been at 17, and finally put that plan, the person that he was, and his parents to rest. If he is not able to be anything other than that boy, then he has no reason to not remain as such, and return to the past; but if he believes himself capable of change, then the question of going back in time is one of leaving behind the person he is now in favor of the boy who made that choice. He is asked, if he believes himself capable of change, to acknowledge that he was that person once, but can now be more than that and move beyond it.
And the proof that he needs in order to affirm that when he is given the opportunity to do so is standing next to him.
Fundamentally, this is not related to Caleb's long-term relationship with Essek at all. This could have been the end of it—they could've parted ways and the story would've still been told and completed.
But I think it is important that a) Essek does get to have some happiness, and b) part of that is with Caleb (though this still doesn't have any bearing on platonic vs romantic, only that they have some kind of close mutual relationship in the long run). On a very basic level, because he is now in this position of being corroborating evidence for Caleb himself, Essek becomes a stand-in for how the narrative sees Caleb, and how Caleb views himself.
If the narrative condemns him and leaves him out to dry, it is an implicit reflection on Caleb—and directly conflicts with the narrative implication that Caleb is not solely worth condemnation. And however much it has nothing to do with romance or a relationship of that kind, Caleb's choice to care about him in the long run is an acknowledgement of being willing to care for and forgive himself.
There's no way to say this other than bluntly which is that Imogen is uniquely treated as the main character within her campaign as compared to any other CR campaign and it's either very ignorant, very stupid, or very deliberately obtuse to say otherwise.
Vax's prominent position in the story of Vox Machina is still nowhere near as central as Imogen is to Bells Hells, and is the result of choices Liam made in the story rather than being assigned main character by narrative, but everyone gets a quite satisfying arc. The Chroma Conclave story is specifically designed to tie into every single character (not just through the vestiges, but also with Thordak's ties to the twins, Raishan's tie to Keyleth, Umbrasyl's to Pike and Grog, and Vorugal's originally to Tiberius, with Dr. Dranzel and Kaylie often in the line of fire to heighten stakes for Scanlan and Ripley's involvement to do the same for Percy, who also already had a very central arc with the Briarwoods anyway). Most other plots are similarly crafted to fairly evenly dole out boons custom-made for the characters, because Campaign 1's origins as a home game meant that it was tailor-made to said characters as a party, without any further agenda.
Meanwhile, Caleb and Beau's interests and skills are prominent throughout Campaign 2 because Critical Role had by then pivoted into telling an ongoing story of Exandria, and a major focus of the campaign is the war in which their country and institutions (former or present) were involved, but similarly, everyone gets their moment in the sun even if it is not as obvious and literal as "each of you gets a vestige specifically made for your abilities and character arc." Even if they are less invested in the war, we see Jester learning the truth about the Traveler and deciding what her future relationship with him looks like, Fjord doing much the same with Uk'otoa (and later the Wildmother), Caduceus rescuing his family and expanding his horizons, Veth getting her body back and learning who she can be when given opportunities outside of Felderwin, and Yasha working through her grief. We see the entire party, in the end, return to lives that they have now actively chosen, having gone through this character development, instead of the ones expected for them by default.
Campaign 4 is West Marches; no one is in the spotlight continuously because they're only on screen a third of the time. We are obviously early in that story, but we do know that there was quite extensive pre-game planning such that the characters are prepared for a story that does not focus necessarily on them other than through their pursuit of the plot. They are all connected to Thjazi in some manner, and his death is the domino that sets all of them, with all their own interests and rich connections to the world and to each other, in motion. The characters all have different roles within the story and as we're still relatively early on some have had more to do than others - that's how a story works - but you'd be hard-pressed to argue any one individual is notably more important. Everyone is at this point at minimum deeply connected to either the cosmological or political questions of the story, if not both.
And then there's Campaign 3.
You can pretty much tell the story of Campaign 3 and treat everyone but Imogen as interchangeable or disposable. She is the only main quest character, and everyone else's problems and concerns are relegated to a few sidequest episodes that, unlike C1 and C2 sidequests, do not feed back into the whole and feel perfunctory rather than a digression with meaningful consequences. The elemental/eidolon focus of the Hishari and titan shards; Chetney's (never explained or significantly explored) connection to Ruidus through his lycanthropy; Delilah; even Fearne literally being herself Ruidusborn and the biological daughter of one of Ludinus's generals, barely matter. Orym's past ties him to Ludinus, but gives him no real action items or room to grow unless he forces the decision that no one else wants to make. FCG's arc is strong, but it ends before the final choice is made. Most of the focus on characters other than Imogen feels like it's trying to get their issues squared away as quickly as possible so we can focus on the moon - quickly freeing Ashton of their obligations to Jiana, one-and-done resolving Chetney's struggles with lycanthropy with zero exploration of why Ruidus had any impact on him or why the Weave Mind gave a shit, or having Essek bind Delilah after she barely caused any trouble, just to name a few.
This is not, to be clear, an accusation of main character syndrome. In fact I think one of the biggest reason Campaign 3 struggles as a story is that Laura at no point seems to actually want to be in the driver's seat and the narrative screeches to an interminable halt because of her indecision (and because Matt does not force the issue; a reluctant main character is not an unheard of trope but the decision must be made in the end). But if you're whining about how such-and-such character in another campaign is equally the main character and we're just oh so mean to Imogen specifically...that's simply not true. Every other campaign tells its story either through each of the various characters' arcs (C2), or with the arcs unfolding alongside the plot (C1, C4), whereas Campaign 3 mostly treats everything but Imogen's arc as something to quickly eliminate so we can focus on the Moon Plot, for which only Imogen is really necessary. And then we and the entire world must wait until Imogen makes up her mind, which she doesn't, and so the plot drags along miserably until the Raven Queen sees something that has gone on too long and mercifully severs the thread, freeing us all so we could go watch Divergence and Wildemount Wildlings.
Of course, you can dispute this; but given that pretty much everyone who thought Campaign 3 was good expected there to be significant post-Moon Plot story arcs and pitched a fit about the cast ending the story abruptly to hit their 10 year anniversary, I think it's impossible to now believably claim that other characters (or, for that matter, Imogen as Laura envisioned her) were sufficiently served by the narrative rather than pushed past to tell a story none of them, even Imogen, particularly cared about. For all I have my criticisms, and for all it was pretty clear that the Moon Plot was it, I do wish there had been a Campaign 3 that actually showcased Bells Hells as they were envisioned by the players. But there wasn't.
Because I've seen this a few places: obviously, to each their own, but I am entirely pro-TLOVM taking core elements of the plot of Campaign 3, because I think they actually earned that narrative. I do not find it anti-god, and I actually think it serves as an incredible way to show that the issue of Campaign 3 was not premise nor plot, but execution. The problem with C3 is that the moon plot kicked in when Bells Hells were still too unformed (and uh. uninformed) and the signaling from Matt was so bad that they were like "I guess we're killing gods now?" (to the point that they kind of neglected the ruidians) and sort of muddled through that. Like, that is the other thing - had Campaign 3 been genuinely anti-god, Bells Hells would have actually been able to make a decision and it may have even succeeded as a standalone work, though it would have represented a break so severe as to be effectively canon-divergent from Campaigns 1 and 2. But it wasn't even that.
Here, Pike's frustration with the Everlight is an ongoing plot thread rather than a tacked on "I prayed in my backstory sometimes, don't ask me for details, and nothing happened, so the gods are BAD for not saving me." Unlike the Ruby Vanguard, the cult of Vecna is appealing to a genuine pain among many people of Exandria - they have lost loved ones to the attacks of the Chroma Conclave, and are still losing more to the lingering effects thereof. Resurrection is a rare thing and not available to most, and its cost is quite dear, and the idea that someone could find a way to transcend death for everyone is incredibly appealing. Compare, again, to Ludinus's mealy-mouthed empty statements "freedom" without any details of how people are in fact under the thumb of the gods (and also consider that Vecna wisely showed up in Exandria as a humble folk preacher, rather than a long-time enforcer of Dwendalian imperialism). As a viewer, even if I know Vecna is full of shit, and that the Everlight is likely simply leaving the choice up to Pike rather than failing to answer, Pike doesn't! This has been the ongoing story of Pike's crises of faith, that she is looking for very clear instructions in an uncertain and turbulent world, and Vecna comes in and says "your god isn't telling you exactly what to do! because she doesn't love you. Listen to me and do exactly as I say in order to have free will." Which is how cults actually work! They are really good at preying on people frustrated with uncertainty, even though uncertainty is often the most honest and correct answer. The reason people fall for fake cancer cures is because real cancer treatments are often painful, laborious, expensive, and do not have a 100% guarantee, and an honest medical team will say that. A scammer will promise certainty and success. And on top of that, Pike is grieving her entire family and is told that this will bring one of them back - there is a gain to be had, vs just petty and punitive motivations. Again, compare to the abstract nonsense the Vanguard promised.
I would also add that the Matron comes off as opaque but ultimately correct - the blight is the key to defeating Vecna, and saves Vox Machina in Thar Amphala. The characters have doubts about the gods - as they did in Campaign 1 itself, which is a good thing! - but the story does not. This was another key problem in Campaign 3; the story kept trying to reshape itself to the characters, except it had just enough of an end destination that it couldn't entirely, and the characters weren't a good fit for that destination, which meant everything turned into a pile of indecisive goo. In TLOVM, the characters can respond dynamically to a clearly established world. In the closest to an objective sense, the Prime Deities are flawed and even frustrating but have the best interests of their devotees and mortaldom at large at heart, but Pike has space to be sufficiently hurt and frustrated to briefly side with Vecna, and Keyleth has space to resent the deal Vax made with the Raven Queen and attempt to defy it. But in the end, the gods matter little; Grog says as much to Pike. Vecna's killing too many people, and he's making Pike abandon everyone else for him, which isn't what someone with good intentions would do, and you don't need the Everlight's answer to figure that out.
In other words: this is what a confident C3 plot with characters who had been built for it would look like. It would explore doubt in the gods in a way that felt justified, instead of petty and short-sighted. It would have a villain who actually seemed to promise something worth following. The characters would make interesting decisions with this information. And ultimately, it would be a story that explored what mortals were choosing to do when dealing with vast powers well behind their comprehension instead of leaving it all up to the work of those vast powers, and the consequences of those choices. It's fine if you prefer the original story of Campaign 1, but I think this is actually fantastic change for an adaptation, and I do not think it defends or endorses Campaign 3's plot. In every way possible, it leaves it in the dust and shows how weak it was in comparison and how easily it could have been good.
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