The Latest Critical Role Campaign 4 Could Have Resolved My Least Favorite D&D Monster
D&D provides a unique creative space. Theoretically, it acts as a blank canvas where the creativity of Dungeon Masters and participants can paint any kind of picture. However, D&D also carries a five-decade history of worlds, monsters, magic systems, established non-player characters, and general lore. Even the best creative minds struggle to completely free themselves from this extensive landscape of references, meaning that a great deal of “fresh” content for D&D is a reworking of familiar ideas. At times you get things that are as brilliant as “Gangsta’s Paradise,” other times you cringe like when listening to “a derivative tune.”
Critical Role has been highly inventive in the past due to the original settings of Exandria (designed by the DM Matt Mercer) and now Aramán (the setting crafted by Brennan Lee Mulligan for its fourth campaign). Although longtime fans of Mulligan and his other series Dimension 20 work may recognize some of his common themes (Brennan strongly dislikes the gods!), episode 2 impressed me because of a truly original take on a classic Dungeons & Dragons monster category: celestials.
The Historical Background of Celestials in Dungeons & Dragons
Fiendish creatures (often called evil outsiders) have been included in D&D since the mid-70s, but it took a while longer for their angelic equivalents to appear. A handful of distinct “angels” with specific names appeared in the publication Dragon editions 12 (Feb. 1978) and 17 (Aug. 1978). These were essentially riffs on the celestial figures from Hebrew and Christian religious lore; for truly unique interpretations, we had to hold out for the early 80s and the creator Gary Gygax’s “Monster Spotlight” article in Dragon, where he introduced new monsters that would appear in 1983’s Monster Manual 2. That’s when the deva, the planetar angel, and the solar first appeared, initiating a tradition of creatures called celestial entities that is still present in the latest edition of the game.
In D&D, celestial beings are the servants of benevolent gods, made by their masters to act as soldiers, leaders, messengers, intermediaries for humans, and overall to populate their domains in the Upper Planes. They are champions of good who battle the forces of chaos and evil from the Infernal Realms and help uphold the faith of their god on the mortal world. Despite their direct relationship with the gods, celestials are unique individuals with specific personalities. Famous examples include Lumalia and Zariel from the Forgotten Realms setting, the mysterious Lady of the Lake from Greyhawk, and even the iconic Dame Aylin from Baldur’s Gate 3.
Celestial lore is notably less fleshed out in contrast to fiends. The chaotic Abyss has ninety-nine levels of ever-growing disorder and lords of demons warring amongst themselves. The infernal Nine Hells are a version of the series Game of Thrones with greater violence and more engaging subplots. And don’t get me started the mysterious Yugoloth. Meanwhile, everything you need to know about celestial beings can be gathered in an hour of wiki reading.
It’s understandable that beings who look like angels from the Bible went underdeveloped. Rumor has it that Gary Gygax was uncomfortable about giving players game statistics for divine beings they could murder in their sessions, and although celestials were subsequently developed with a bigger range of looks and purposes, that controversial beginning hindered their growth. There’s also only so much what you can create for beings that are designed to be divine minions. Sure, they have independent thought, but their narrative potential is limited. From that perspective, the antagonists have far greater liberty: They have defined superiors (Demon Lords, Archdevils, and etc.) but they’re ultimately fickle and chaotic entities that can spin in a lot of directions without losing their unique nature.
The Way Campaign 4 of Critical Role Redefines Heavenly Beings
To be frank, I understand: Celestials are just not that interesting. Holy warriors of virtue that strike down wickedness in every manifestation can be impressive, but they also become clichéd very fast. That general lack of interest means we remain unaware of that much about celestials. As an illustration, we still don’t know what occurs once the god who created them dies. There is no official explanation, and every DM is able to devise their own interpretation. Brennan Lee Mulligan chose to make this question central to the world of Aramán, one where the deities have all been slain by mortals in a great conflict that ended 70 years before the start of the campaign. So what became of the servants of these gods?
Brennan’s solution is straightforward, horrifying, and highly intriguing: They went crazy and became a blight that destroyed entire countries. A lot about the past of Aramán, the divine conflict, and its aftermath in the current era has still to be revealed, but it seems that after the gods were slain, the celestial beings became “wild”. They transformed into creatures that could destroy entire regions if left unchecked. The audience got a glimpse of how frightening such a being can be at the conclusion of the second episode, as Wicander (player Sam Riegel) encountered his “grandfather,” a fearsome celestial kept chained in a enormous casket.
It is no accident that the most interesting celestial beings in Dungeons & Dragons, story-wise, are those who have lost their divinity. The angel Zariel, as an instance, was a mighty Solar angel whose fixation with ending the Blood War resulted in her being tainted by Asmodeus and turned into an Archdevil of Hell. The planetar Fazrian is a little-known Planetar angel who was called forth by a priest inside the dungeon Undermountain and became obsessed with “cleaning” the wickedness in the Terminus level of the huge labyrinth, slowly succumbing to the madness permeating the place.
The corruption observed in Campaign 4 of Critical Role assumes a distinct form. These celestials did not lose their virtue. They were not deceived, or led astray by their own arrogance or obsessions. They are victims; another terrible result of the Shapers’ War. As the new campaign continues, it is hoped Mulligan concentrates on the notion that, no matter how “righteous” that war was, the humans who won it may still regret the consequences. Their realm has been wounded, their connection to the afterlife has been cut off, and the creatures that were formerly their guardians, guiding their spirits to safety following death, are now frightening disasters.
Certainly, this might simply be a convenient way to solve the original creator’s original dilemma. It is simple to rationalize slaying an angel when it’s a shrieking, insane creature with multiple fangs, but I also feel highly fascinated by this new declination of the celestial mythos in D&D. I am not entirely in accord with the DM’s loathing for gods in his campaigns, but I still prefer these horrific heavenly beings to the flat {