Voxels & Valor • Session 15 Recap • Phandelver
Sometimes, You Gotta Let ‘em Go
Mercy and Mayhem in Phandalin
Some sessions feel clean. This one did not. This one felt like friction.
The Dendrars in the Dark
They found Mirna first; then thirteen-year-old Nars, trying very hard to stand like he wasn’t afraid. Then eighteen-year-old Nilsa, jaw set, eyes sharp; the look of someone who had already decided she might have to defend her brother herself.
The story came in pieces: Thel Dendrar had defied the Redbrands; they abducted him. The next day, they returned and took the rest of the family.
The guards had talked freely. Carelessly. Cruelly. The plan was to sell them into slavery.
They begged the party to find Thel, and they had to tell them what they already knew.
They had found him in the crevasse, among the dead.
“They had found him.
In the crevasse.
Among the dead.”
There are moments at the table where the dice stop mattering. This was one of them.
Mirna didn’t collapse; she didn’t rage. She absorbed the truth like someone who had already feared it. And she thanked them anyway.
What They Knew of the Redbrands
The Dendrars had not seen the wizard who ran the gang, but they had heard about him. A boss below, a spellcaster. And “tall, furry monsters with big ears.” Bugbears. The party had already fought several. The pieces fit. The corruption in Phandalin had structure.
A Memory of Thundertree
Mirna had nothing to give them. No coin, no jewels. But she offered a memory.
Years ago, when undead overran Thundertree, her family had fled. They had owned an herb and alchemy shop in the southeast part of town. Beneath a section of storage shelves, hidden in a case, lay an emerald necklace, a family heirloom.
A Thread to Pull Later
Mirna’s emerald necklace in the southeast shop of Thundertree is more than a reward. It’s a promise, and a reason for the party to return to a town long abandoned to ruin.
She had never dared return. If the party ever did…
It would be theirs. Not payment. Trust.
Back Through the Tunnel
They guided the Dendrars to the secret tunnel they had used to enter the hideout and sent them back toward town to get someone to help retrieve Thel’s body. Then they turned around and went back in.
Learning (Maybe?)
Something had shifted. They searched methodically, checked for traps, cleared rooms deliberately.
Perhaps they were learning?
In the wizard’s workshop, they found clutter: books, notes, ambition stacked in ink and dust. And a rat; a small, mundane creature rummaging through the desk for scraps.
Details Matter
The rat in Iarno’s workshop may have been nothing more than vermin … or a reminder that even powerful wizards leave crumbs behind.
Among the debris, they found a note written in Dwarvish. None of them could read it. Secrets, just out of reach.
The Sliding Wall
In the next room, a bedroom, someone rolled absurdly high on Perception. Again. They caught sight of the northeast wall sliding shut. A hidden passage.
Movement. And then, faintly, sounds from far away, near the southeast portion of the crevasse. Bootsteps, stone shifting. Escape.
The chase began.
The Arrow
Iarno Albrek had a head start. He had a prepared escape route, he had distance, heck, he even had a horse waiting. Every advantage favored him. It was meant to be a chase they would lose; a villain who slipped through their fingers to return another day.
Zend drew his longbow. No hesitation. The shot was long range. Disadvantage. The wizard was gaining distance. Everything leaned toward failure.
Long range.
Disadvantage.
The arrow hit.
The arrow hit. Against all odds, it hit.
The table erupted. Cheers. Triumph. And something else beneath it. The chase, which might have ended in frustration, reignited into fury.
They were not letting him go.
Not for a second.
They were not letting him go. Not for a second.
Running Through Phandalin
What followed was chaos: improvised corners, split-second rulings, boots pounding through familiar streets. The wizard bleeding and scrambling, the party gaining, and gaining. And gaining.
What had been designed as “he gets away” became “they are absolutely going to catch him.” And then came the realization: They were going to question him. No one had planned for that.
Desperation at the Lionshield Coster
As Iarno staggered near the Lionshield Coster, the back door opened and Linene Graywind stepped out. Saw the chaos, saw the wizard, saw the adventurers closing in and made a decision.
She knocked him unconscious.
It was convenient, it was desperate, it was necessary. The party didn’t argue. They accepted it. Sometimes a town intervenes.
Justice, Such As It Was
Harbin Wester arrived flustered and overwhelmed, a man in a position he clearly did not understand. He was not in control. Sildar Hallwinter was. Sildar took charge, dragged Iarno to the Townmaster’s Hall, and placed him under arrest.
Trial in Neverwinter
Sildar Hallwinter’s decision to send Iarno to trial in Neverwinter shifts the story beyond Phandalin. Justice here won’t be swift, but it might be lawful.
There would be a trial in Neverwinter, in a few months. Would the party testify? Yes, they agreed. For now, Iarno Albrek lived, not because he deserved it, but because someone else made the call before the party could.
Not because he deserved it.
But because someone else made the call.
Aftermath
The Redbrands were broken, the Dendrars were free. The wizard was alive; the town would have its day in court. And everyone, at the end of it, probably needed a drink.
Some sessions end in triumph; others end in tension. This one ended in relief, sharp, messy, and unfinished. Sometimes you gotta let ’em go, even when you didn’t mean to.
