Acid Splash 5e - D&D 5th Edition Spell Book

Transcribed content from our recent YouTube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXPtTnjy5wU Transcription “Hey everyone, welcome back to Eternity TTRPG. Today we’re unpacking Critical Role Campaign 4, Episode 2: ‘Broken Wing’ — an episode that moves with quick flashbacks, a slow-burning mystery, and unveils one genuinely unsettling artifact. If you missed the premiere, don’t worry — I’ll give you the lay of the land so you can follow every twist.  My goal here with these recaps is to keep them at about 10minutes, so you can follow the main beats of Critical Role without the huge time investment. On that note, be sure to check out the summary for Episode 1 just earlier this week if you want to get caught up! The episode opens not in the present, but in the middle of a past war — the Falconer’s Rebellion — where we meet younger versions of characters who’ll matter later. There’s Teor, a hulking soldier who feels every weight he carries; Kattigan, the quick-witted fighter; and a 15-year-old Azune, whose future as an Arcane Marshal is only hinted at here. They’re pinned down, wyverns tear at the sky, and the scene is chaotic and desperate — a sobering hook that tells you: this world has history, and it’s messy. In the middle of that chaos we get a small but important moment: Thjazi Fang, a figure whose past actions ripple through the episode, is injured — and Casimir, a thornier face in the city’s underworld, scoops him to safety. That moment matters later. Now, cut to present-day Dol-Makjar: Hal and Thaisha — two careworn, sympathetic figures who run a refuge of sorts — find a shattered black ceramic mask in their home. The shards exhale a cold, silver mist, and Thaisha collapses, hearing a nightingale’s song in her head. The mask isn’t just creepy set dressing: Bolaire and Murray, two more scholarly voices in this corner of the city, quickly identify the object’s box as a coffin — etched with the name ‘Obsidia’ in Kessian, an ancient halfling script, and plated with celestial symbols. That combination — halfling religious iconography wrapped around something new and grotesque — immediately reads as blasphemy and trouble. The cast reconverges at Hal’s: Teor, Kattigan, Occtis, Azune, and Thimble are there around Thjazi’s body. Thimble — who’s small in stature but enormous in feeling — collapses onto Thjazi and blames Vaelus, demanding the Stone of Nightsong, a keepsake with emotional resonance for her. This is where the episode tightens: the friends learn Thjazi’s safehouse was ransacked, and Azune, ever the investigator, finds a magical forgery hidden in Thjazi’s coat. It looks like someone set a frame — betrayal stinks in the air. To complicate matters, Casimir and Cyd (Teor’s brother) are unaccounted for, and black feathers were found at the scene — a small clue that points to the Crow Keepers, a thieves’ guild Casimir is tied to. Thimble vows to go find answers. It’s a nice sequence of grief turning into action: the personal drives the plot. Meanwhile, the episode spends time in the halls of power. At Villa Aurora — home of House Halovar and the Candescent Creed — we meet new faces and old tensions. Wick, an eager acolyte, witnesses Teor rescue and heal a worker, and Teor’s act of mercy wins him attention. But not everyone is thrilled. Photarch Yanessa Halovar, a high-ranking cleric, quietly urges her house to distance itself from the Torn Banner and cozy up to House Tachonis — a rival power with suspicious influence. Yanessa even suggests Thjazi’s death was orchestrated by Tachonis. Translation for what we’re learning about this world? Every helpful act in Aramán has strings attached, and alliances are fragile. Quick context: The Halovars are powerful religious aristocrats; the Tachonis are another noble house with their own, shadowy agenda. Political intrigue is the bedrock here. Back in the quieter rooms, Bolaire and Murray dissect the coffin. The wood comes from the Wastes, the silver plates are ancient Kessian — the name Olbalad appears, which translates to a kind of halfling angel of death. A coffin referencing a celestial figure, newly crafted and oozing mist. It’s old magic — but it’s also a deliberate mockery or corruption of something sacred. When they drop a tool into the coffin, it falls forever — no sound, no impact. That silence is bone-chilling and tells us whatever this thing is, it doesn’t obey normal physics. The episode doesn’t stop on small horrors — it ends on something huge and awful. At the Villa Aurora’s Prismatic Retort — a massive machine that channels the ‘light’ powers of the Candescent Creed — Photarch Yanessa and Wick’s grandfather reveal what looks like an enormous iron maiden: inside, a chained, thirty-foot angel with siphoning taps in its body. It reads like religious science fiction and lands with a visceral, ‘did I just see that?’ finality. For an audience member, that visual hits differently from a dagger in the dark — it’s the campaign saying plainly: celestial things are broken here, and larger forces are being manipulated. At the end of each of these episodes I want to do a quick unpacking of what makes these Critical Role sessions so awesome, and what you can take away to your own next gaming session. Alright — so what can Broken Wing teach your table? 1. Try using flashbacks like living memories. Flashbacks like the Falconer’s Rebellion are emotional scaffolding. Instead of dumping lore about who fought who, we see Teor, Kattigan, and young Azune under fire. We feel their fear and loyalty, which gives context to their choices later. If you want to bring that to your table, drop players into short scenes from their characters’ pasts — five minutes tops. Let them play out the betrayal, the lost battle, the friendship they’ll mourn later. That way, when those memories resurface in the present, the emotion feels earned, and hit hard. 2. Make artifacts carry more than stats. The shattered mask and the Obsidia coffin are perfect examples of magic items that do something narratively. They carry history, faith, and fear. As a DM, whenever you hand your players a relic, ask yourself: Who made this, and why? What happens if it’s misused or broken? Maybe the item reacts to emotions, or maybe its power has cultural consequences — like this coffin blaspheming against celestial law. And finally, three: Keep your politics gray. One of the strengths of this episode is how every side believes it’s right. The Halovars see loyalty as survival; Tachonis treat manipulation as necessity. In your campaign, that’s gold. Let your factions and rulers have good reasons for bad choices. Make the players ask, “Are we helping the right people, or just the ones who smile at us?” When you blur those moral lines, every decision becomes roleplay fuel — and every revelation feels earned. So, remember — flashbacks plant emotion, artifacts anchor lore, and gray politics keep tension alive. Use those tools, and you’ll craft sessions that your players will talk about for months. So that’s Broken Wing — we got war-scarred flashbacks, an unnerving coffin that might be blasphemous, betrayal in the shadows, and an iron-maiden angel that raises more questions than it answers. Drop your wildest theory in the comments: who forged that coffin? What is the Stone of Nightsong actually holding? Subscribe for more recaps, DM tips, and quick takes. Next time we’ll dig into Episode 3 and follow the threads this one has left hanging.