A new Critical Role story will follow one of The Mighty Nein's most popular characters

Critters know and love the tales of Critical Role's mightiest adventuring parties, Vox Machina, The Mighty Nein, and Bells Hells. Songs are sung about their deeds and adventures where they've fought giants, dragons, and even gods — but what about the people whose lives they've impacted? What's there to know about their stories? If that's a question that's often been on your mind, then you're in for a real treat this August. Critical Role: The Mighty Nein - Stories Untold, published by Random House Worlds, highlights the tales of the more memorable characters who The Mighty Nein have fought with (and sometimes, against) throughout Campaign 2. One such character is Essek Thelyss. Essek is a drow wizard, played by Matthew Mercer in Campaign 2 as well as in its animated adaptation, The Mighty Nein. A vital figure within the Kryn Dynasty who was first working against the Nein and their goals, Essek wormed his way into the party — and our hearts — by the time Campaign 2 concluded. "It was such an honor to receive Matt's blessing to dive into Essek's mind during his dark night of the soul," The Mighty Nein - Stories Untold's author Dani Carr shares in a statement to Polygon. "I have always been fascinated by Essek as a character, so getting to tell a story from deep within his fears and his hopes was a gift I never took for granted. I knew I had to do right by Essek for Matt, Liam, and every Critter who fell for our resident hot boi. This story brings readers into Essek's mind as he ponders whether to double down on the mistakes of his past, or allow himself to want something better for his own heart and soul. I hope everyone enjoys their read!" In this exclusive excerpt from Critical Role: The Mighty Nein - Stories Untold, titled The Fall Will Kill You ,we see Essek grapple with the fraught choices he's made in the past and whether his relationship with The Mighty Nein has a future. Essek eased himself into the large desk chair to relax, casting his exhausted eyes around the room. Though the library tower housed his vast collection of books, the laboratory tower housed his work. His study held his desk and more bookcases, all with his own writings and research. The walls were painted deep indigo and were adorned with pinned drawings of charts and diagrams, maps of the stars and the continents of Exandria, representations of theoretical concepts and calculations. A geometric carpet covered the floor, over which sat puffed cushions for when studying proved too interesting for a trip to his actual bed. Here was the true heart of Essek’s home, as Essek’s heart and mind were the same. The third tower might have held his bedchamber and his hearth, but this tower, the tallest of the three, was the essence of him. Science and reason, facts and logic, possibility and potential—these were the principles that Essek had devoted his life to; these were the only things that truly mattered. Guilt had no place here. Particularly not guilt over a devout fool’s poor decisions or a cruel sycophant’s castigation. They had all made their choices. Essek could still live with his. A familiar but uncomfortable chill crept across the back of Essek’s mind, as if a large spider had suddenly crawled across his scalp. Essek recoiled, the force of this sudden and invasive discomfort propelling him out of his chair and onto his feet. He winced, trying not to fight off the skin-crawling wave now tingling down his spine as the bespelled voice of his coconspirator, 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 clipped and brisk. He was an ancient elf, long versed in the art of getting what he wanted. There was never any need to demand it; his tone was all that was required. “I did,” Essek responded, his own voice unwavering and confident. “They were successful. The blame has been placed entirely on this Angel of Irons cult. Vence is to be traded.” The spell’s effects had just barely faded when the crawling chill struck again and the voice returned. “A pity. His penmanship was immaculate. Still, our studies continue unabated. A beacon will be returned, and we will continue with the others we possess.” “I plan to attend.” Essek’s response came faster this time, his words nearly stumbling out. “I want to see the trade with my own eyes. To know this is behind me.” Again, the magic receded only to snap back with a shiver. “No.” Essek gripped the sharp edge of his desk so hard that it cut 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.” Image: Critical Role/Random House Essek swallowed, his eyes burning with abashed indignation. “Of course. How go the dunamantic tests on the beacons? Have you uncovered any new details or understanding about the souls contained within?” His voice took on a hopeful tone. Perhaps the conversation could still be salvaged. The magic faded. The chill did not return for a long while, so long that Essek considered casting his own spell and demanding an answer, but return it did. “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’s heart may well have stopped in his chest. That practiced acquiescence didn’t even feel like it had come from him, being automatic and disembodied. His little pet projects. Patience. Cold rage restarted his heart. Essek grimaced, teeth bared, as a growl of fury tore from his throat. “Arrogant prick!” he erupted, shoving books off his desk. They hit the rug with muffled thuds. He hurled an empty inkwell against the wall, where it shattered upon impact with the stone and left vestiges of ink in its wake. His hands reached for something else to throw, finding a paperweight that soon joined the inkwell and clattered to the ground. All this sound and fury, but Essek barely noticed…. Tonight, he had told the Mighty Nein that he longed for the freedom to study dunamis on its own terms, to explore dunamancy’s possibilities without the Dynasty’s religious restrictions. He had meant it. He wanted to study, he wanted to unlock secrets and pursue the impossible. And for the first time, he had voiced aspirations that he knew did not really pertain to the noble purpose of curing typhros. Had he lost sight of his original goal? Did it even matter to him now that— No. Once more, he shut the door on the memory of his mother’s face, unable and unwilling to look that particular pain in the eye. There was only so much of her that he could bear. Old memories were one thing. The present truth was another. He could not grapple with his mother’s now, and the memory of her was strong enough to make him physically wince in his present state. 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 ever 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 asked for details about their studies; Ludinus and Trent refused to share more than drops with him. His original intentions could no longer matter when everything was out of control. Patience. Essek had had enough of patience and its trials, but at least his breathing was steadier and there was feeling back in his muscles. The malaise may have had him for a moment, but his body was his own again. He stood up and brushed his robes off with a sweep of simple magic. He was in too deep 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. There was a shining substance within. Essek tilted the vial, and the glimmering matter caught the light, now looking more like a gas than a solid. Another turn of the vial and it appeared more akin to liquid. No matter how he moved it, the substance refused to choose a state, at least not one he could parse. A smile formed on Essek’s face, a real one. An astonished one. The memories of the night’s conversations with the Nein, with Caleb in particular, 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 knew what this gift meant to him. Or maybe he did, in his own way. How could Essek have forgotten? Essek clutched the vial to his chest and nearly tripped over his own feet moving from his study to his spotless and stark alchemy lab. Wooden cabinets lined the walls, and he threw them each open to find what he needed to begin his experiments. He grabbed three beakers, two droppers, and a funnel before he stumbled over to the large table that held his heavier equipment. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. His hands could not shake. Not here. With a simple finger snap, he lit a fire beneath a burner and placed a beaker over it. He conjured up a journal bound with ribbon and a graphite pencil from his demipocket. In the pale light pouring in from his bobbing lamps, he examined his prize and began to dictate his notes to the charmed writing instrument. Critical Role: The Mighty Nein - Stories Untold by Critical Role, Betsy Aoki, Kiri Callaghan, Dani Carr, Mae Catt, Mike Chen, Rin Chupeco, Nino Cipri, Nadia El-Fassi, and Chase K will be released on Aug. 11.