Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am positively incensed, owing to my recent illness having stolen this week’s D&D session. We’d basically gone into hibernation mode over the winter, and had just started getting some momentum going, and then my body had the temerity to go and get sick on me! We’d just reached the ancient city! We were about to run through a miniboss rush! Who even knows when we’ll get the group together again to… aaARRGH!

Anyway. With my D&D opportunities in the outer world unjustly stolen from me, I’m planning to console myself with the continuing adventures of Vox Machina. When last we left off, the show had just announced a shocking yet inevitable reveal: Percy’s sister Cassandra is still alive, and actually working with the Blackbriars. Wha!? I know, I know, but don’t get too scandalized, since I’m pretty sure the reveal of the resistance’s mole will set her right back on the side of justice. As the tension continues to build, let’s see what awaits in a fresh episode of The Legend of Vox Machina!

Episode 7

While I’m eager to see the conclusion of Percy’s drama here, to be honest, I’m also quite intrigued to see what they do with his character after this arc is resolved. Rather than following a general narrative that touches on each of the character stories equally, we’re clearly starting off with a “Percy arc” here, one that will presumably resolve his character background as initially conceived. It’ll be interesting to see what directions they take his character once his initial driving motive is resolved

We open with a flashback, as Percy and Cassandra are being taught by their already nefarious-looking professor. Though to be honest, I could see how they could mistake his nefariousness for the stodginess of a beloved old lecturer, particularly when combined with his pitch-perfect stodgy lecturer voice

Apparently this place is called Whitestone because they mine whitestone out of the mountains. A nice touch there – it’s easy enough to come up with a bunch of fantasy names for your various places and people, but contextualizing those names through further reveals does a great job of enhancing the solidity of your worldbuilding. Basically, anything that makes it feel less like you pulled your proper nouns out of a hat, and more like those proper nouns were inevitable reflections of the history of this world, will enhance your players’ investment in your setting

Whitestone can further be refined into a magical amplifier. This scene is gracefully serving two purposes: on its surface, it’s a natural reveal of the relationship once shared by Percy and Cassandra, introduced right at the point when you’d expect more context like this. But at the same time, their professor’s lecture is quietly providing the exposition necessary to explain the Blackbriars’ plan, by introducing these crystals as a resource before they become narratively significant. As a result, the future reveal of their role in the Blackbriars’ plan will feel like the firing of a Chekhov’s Gun, rather than coming out of nowhere. No filler dialogue – everything should have purpose

Welp, we can see why Anders betrayed the family: he wanted to set up a refinery to triple their refined mineral production, the De Rolos were perfectly fine with their safe, reliable output

Unchained ambition: one of those things that we always understand to be a fault in fiction, but which we regularly celebrate in our own world’s most heinous capitalists. Ah, life

“Fanciful whelps! Pray you never wake to find reality knocking at your door.” Man, this dude is not subtle about his villainy

This OP also basically gives us the twins’ motivation: having lost their entire family, they resolved only to rely on each other, a pact that Vax is now threatening

Aw shit, time for a Percy’s gun backstory. Now this is a goofy and extremely D&D-specific narrative flourish: profound emphasis on the nuances of the party’s cool magical weapons. For most fantasy fiction, undue focus on cool swords and the like is a distraction, since such objects rarely hold much emotional or thematic significance. But cool, unique weapons are often the main way D&D characters define themselves, particularly if they’re more interested in combat than roleplaying. My own party’s warrior has in large part been defined by his signature weapon, and in fact, the DM breaking that weapon to replace it with a more narrative-relevant one was basically the moment I realized I’d need to take over DMing eventually, to prevent such catastrophic player-investment wounds in the future

Ooh, some very nice tricks of direction here, as the memories of Percy’s tragedy are spliced with shots of the mechanism he built to direct his rage

“I dreamt of a machine that would tip the scales of fortune in my favor.” Man, nice job of weaving the artificer’s mechanical identity in with his character story! Seems like part of the reason we’re focusing on Percy first is because Percy’s player is just good at this, and already comfortable leading in both roleplay and mechanical aspects

Even the names on the barrels are a great touch, giving his character a clear trajectory and set of hurdles to overcome for the DM to weave in over time. This is a player who’s comfortable enough with D&D mechanics to actually make the DM’s job easier, by setting up his character with clear narrative/mechanical quests

Meanwhile, Keyleth has set the building on fire

Love the quiet gag of the rebellion leader stoically acknowledging that “this town ain’t got any ale” is a fine reason to abandon it altogether

Though to be honest, this might not even be an intentional gag; sometimes the comic relief character just happens to get the last line in before an NPC continues their tale, leading to some goofy non-sequiturs

I’m frankly not sure why the party is distrusting Scanlan’s ability to distract the guards – not only is that one of the things bards are best at, but he literally just used that power during the banquet that set up this arc. Feels like doubting Grog’s abilities as a bruiser or something

Putting Scanlan on a solo mission seems like a good use of his player’s talents, though. Scanlan the player is a natural one-man show, whipping up songs and using his cantrips to consistently inspired effect. His whole personality is also a bit more farcical and genre-savvy than most of the team, meaning he’s often at his best playing counterpoint or doing solo work, particularly without Pike in attendance

Of course, solo missions are also somewhat inherently contrary to the purpose of D&D; it’s not particularly fun to just watch your DM and one particular player do a bunch of exciting stuff together, while everyone else waits for the mission to end. As I’ve said, the primacy of the party is one of the things that most defines D&D storytelling

Scanlan of course fucks up immediately, but the random potions he brought with him turned out to include a fire-breathing one, basically solving his quest for him. A solution like this seems like it’d only be appropriate for either Scanlan or Grog, as each of them are essentially playing farcical characters who don’t really take the ongoing narrative or mechanical drama too seriously. For all its perils, deus ex machina still generally works better in a traditional work of fiction than a roleplaying game – in a game setting, it can make the players feel like they didn’t really “earn” their victory, and their presence wasn’t even necessary in the first place

At the far end of the player-engagement spectrum, the full investment that both Percy and Vex have made into the fiction of their characters allows moments like this quiet gesture of solidarity from Vex to ring true. There’s not a hint of “isn’t all this a bit silly” in either of their performances, allowing genuine emotional beats to emerge

Scanlan tries singing the mysterious scroll, and it ends up turning him into a triceratops. All of this actually feels like a masterful read of player interests: it seems clear that the player controlling Scanlan just wants fun, chaotic shit to happen, and so his solo adventure is brimming with fun, chaotic consequences. My own table has one player who would be delighted to have consequences like this for all of his actions (and in fact, our DM earned his eternal gratitude by handing him the Infernal Machine)

Seems like we’re definitely building up some romantic tension between Percy and Vex, but given they’re both already a bit more comfortable with their characters, the execution is a tad more subtle than Scanlan and Pike’s awkward glances

“Not everything’s a trap, you twit!” How dare you, Grog. Trap checks are like seventy percent of any successful D&D adventure

And yes, it is a trap

I swear to god, every time I forget to trap check, it’s a trap. Every single time

Of course, a trap that merely fills the party’s berserker with arrows isn’t a particularly effective one. Great, you made the guy who’s fueled by anger angrier, fantastic work

In true Scanlan form, he ends up electrocuting his opponent with dick magic

And the Professor just slits Cassandra’s throat! Damn, that I was not expecting

And Done

Ahh, this show is such a fun, strange, and uniquely rewarding exercise! The story and characters continue to grow more engaging by the minute, while the negotiation of gamified versus narrative elements gives me so many interesting topics to ramble about. This episode’s integration of backstory and celebration of Scanlan’s specialties were both masterfully handled – Scanlan is frankly exactly the type of player-character who’d give me trouble as a DM, and I was delighted to see this DM reward his style with such audience-friendly grace. I’ve honestly been pretty worried about assuming the mantle of DM in my own party adventures, but watching Vox Machina is giving me plenty of advice for how to handle the thornier aspects of party dynamics and collaborative fiction. An education and an adventure in one.

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