Discover the latest Critical Role adventure featuring the often-overlooked member of The Mighty Nein.

Critters are well-acquainted with the legendary tales of Critical Role’s most formidable adventuring groups: Vox Machina, The Mighty Nein, and Bells Hells. Their epic battles against giants, dragons, and even deities have inspired countless songs. But what about the lives they’ve touched along the way? What stories lie behind those encounters?

If you’ve ever pondered this, you’re in for a treat this August. *Critical Role: The Mighty Nein – Stories Untold* shines a spotlight on the memorable characters who crossed paths with The Mighty Nein during Campaign 2, whether as allies or adversaries.

One standout character is Essek Thelyss, a drow wizard portrayed by Matthew Mercer in Campaign 2 and its animated adaptation. Initially an antagonist to the Nein, Essek ultimately became a beloved member of the party by the campaign’s end.

“It was such an honor to receive Matt’s blessing to dive into Essek’s mind during his dark night of the soul,” shares author Dani Carr. “I’ve always been fascinated by Essek, so getting to explore his fears and hopes was a gift I never took for granted. I wanted to do right by Essek for Matt, Liam, and every Critter who fell for our resident hot boi. This story invites readers into Essek’s thoughts as he wrestles with whether to cling to his past mistakes or seek something better for himself. I hope everyone enjoys it!”

In an exclusive excerpt from *Critical Role: The Mighty Nein – Stories Untold*, titled “The Fall Will Kill You,” we witness Essek confront the difficult choices of his past and contemplate the future of his relationship with The Mighty Nein.

Essek settled into the large desk chair, his weary gaze sweeping across the room.

The library tower was home to his extensive collection of books, while the laboratory tower housed his work. His study featured a desk and numerous bookcases filled with his writings and research. The walls, painted a deep indigo, were decorated with pinned drawings, charts, diagrams, and maps of Exandria’s stars and continents, alongside representations of theoretical concepts. A geometric carpet covered the floor, with plush cushions scattered about for when his studies became too engrossing to warrant a trip to bed.

This was the true heart of Essek’s home, reflecting his own heart and mind. While the third tower contained his bedchamber and hearth, this tallest tower embodied his essence. Science, reason, facts, logic, possibility, and potential were the principles he dedicated his life to; these were the only things that truly mattered. Guilt had no place here, especially not guilt over a misguided fool’s choices or a cruel sycophant’s scorn.

They had all made their choices. Essek could still live with his.

A familiar chill crept into the back of Essek’s mind, reminiscent of a spider crawling across his scalp. He recoiled, the sudden discomfort jolting him from his chair. He winced, trying to shake off the skin-crawling sensation as the bespelled voice of his co-conspirator, Martinet Ludinus Da’leth, interrupted his thoughts.

“Did you witness the Mighty Nein’s request to the Bright Queen for a parley?” Ludinus’s voice was sharp and brisk. An ancient elf, he was adept at getting what he wanted without needing to raise his voice.

“I did,” Essek replied, his voice steady and assured. “They were successful. The blame has been placed entirely on this Angel of Irons cult. Vence is to be traded.”

Just as the spell’s effects began to fade, the chilling sensation returned, and the voice reappeared. “A pity. His penmanship was immaculate. Still, our studies continue unabated. A beacon will be returned, and we will proceed with the others we possess.”

“I plan to attend,” Essek said quickly, nearly stumbling over his words. “I want to see the trade with my own eyes. To know this is behind me.”

Once more, the magic receded only to snap back with a shiver. “No.”

Essek gripped the edge of his desk tightly, the sharp wood biting into his palms. “I was not asking for your permission. I was informing you of my intentions.”

“If you wish to be a fool, then be a fool. At least do it in disguise.”

Essek swallowed, indignation burning in his eyes. “Of course. How go the dunamantic tests on the beacons? Have you uncovered any new details or understanding about the souls contained within?” He hoped to steer the conversation back on track.

The magic faded, and the chill did not return for a long while, so long that Essek considered casting his own spell to demand an answer, but it eventually returned.

“They have more important work first. Patience, Essek. You’ll have plenty of future opportunities to study your little pet projects. We have long lives. Patience.”

“Of course, Ludinus. There is always more time.”

The magic receded for the final time, but Essek felt as if his heart had stopped. That practiced acquiescence felt automatic and disembodied.

His little pet projects. Patience.

Cold rage reignited his heart. Essek grimaced, baring his teeth as a growl of fury erupted from his throat.

“Arrogant prick!” he shouted, sending books tumbling off his desk. They hit the rug with muffled thuds. He hurled an empty inkwell against the wall, where it shattered and left a trail of ink. His hands reached for something else to throw, finding a paperweight that soon joined the inkwell on the floor.

All this noise and chaos, yet Essek barely noticed.

Tonight, he had confided in The Mighty Nein about his desire for the freedom to study dunamis on its own terms, to explore its possibilities without the Dynasty’s religious constraints. He had meant it. He wanted to unlock secrets and pursue the impossible. For the first time, he had voiced aspirations that transcended the noble goal of curing typhros. Had he lost sight of his original purpose? Did it even matter to him now that—

No. He shut the door on the memory of his mother’s face, unwilling to confront that particular pain. There was only so much of her he could bear. Old memories were one thing; the present truth was another. He could not grapple with her now, and the memory of her was strong enough to make him physically wince.

It had to matter. It all mattered; it was all connected. The beacons held the key to every decision he had ever made, every choice he had agonized over. Studying them was how every question found its answer, and he was being denied his very purpose. More embarrassingly, he was being forced out. This wasn’t the first time he had sought details about their studies; Ludinus and Trent had always shared only the bare minimum. His original intentions no longer mattered when everything was spiraling out of control.

Patience. Essek had had enough of patience and its trials, but at least his breathing was steadier, and feeling was returning to his muscles. The malaise may have gripped him for a moment, but his body was his own again. He stood up and brushed off his robes with a flick of simple magic. He was too deep into this to change anything now. He had to keep playing his part. Ludinus was right. Irritated but resigned, Essek shoved his hands into his pockets like a petulant teenager. He had to be—

Clink.

There was a bottle in his pocket. Essek carefully pulled it out and stared at it. Inside was a shimmering substance. He tilted the vial, watching the glimmering matter shift, appearing more like gas than solid. Another turn of the vial made it resemble liquid. No matter how he moved it, the substance refused to settle into a single state, at least not one he could decipher. A genuine smile spread across Essek’s face, one of astonishment.

Memories of the night’s conversations with the Nein, particularly with Caleb, flooded back. Caleb had given him this: Yeza Brenatto’s experiment at the behest of the Cerberus Assembly, a potion of pure dunamis direct from a beacon. A favor repaid, though he doubted Caleb understood the significance of this gift. Or perhaps he did, in his own way. How could Essek have forgotten?

Clutching the vial to his chest, he nearly tripped over his own feet as he hurried from his study to his pristine alchemy lab. Wooden cabinets lined the walls, and he flung them open to gather what he needed for his experiments. He grabbed three beakers, two droppers, and a funnel before rushing to the large table that held his heavier equipment. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he ensured his hands remained steady. Not here.

With a snap of his fingers, he ignited a fire beneath a burner and placed a beaker over it. He conjured a journal bound with ribbon and a graphite pencil from his demipocket. In the soft light from his flickering lamps, he examined his prize and began to dictate his notes to the enchanted writing instrument.

*Critical Role: The Mighty Nein – Stories Untold* will be released on August 11.