ARE.  YOU.  SERIOUS!?
  Not to sound ungrateful, but let's break this down.
Eldritch Strike sounds nice on paper.  Hit a dude, they have Disadvantage on a Saving Throw from a spell YOU cast before the end of your next turn.  That's nice, I guess.  Snag Hold Person and you've got a clutch setup for you and your allies; in fact, because you can switch up the order (in most cases) of your Bonus Action and Action economy, you can achieve this debut in the same round.  ...Still only hitting once, though, as that Bonus Action.
Arcane Charge is pretty nifty.  Wreck somebody sideways, then teleport to another across the battlefield and do it again.  That's cool - I admit it.  Still feels like something's missing, though.
Improved War Magic - at 18th level, you can now cast a Spell (which you've been doing anyway, maybe), and attack ONCE as a Bonus Action.  FACE.  PALM.
*Not featured in the screen cap is a neat little flavor perk where you can call your weapon to you as a Bonus Action.  ...More on that later.

Talk about a lackluster reception, and it isn't for lack of players trying.
  The flavor text of the Eldritch Knight sounds like the BEST TIME playing as a Fighter.  The versatility of low-level Wizard magic and blasting power, and all the standard Fighter perks, plus more Feats than anyone else (so customization options).  I've had a few players go for this build, only to be sorely disappointed by the extra features, to the point that they RARELY used their arcane abilities, defaulting to vanilla fighter most of the time (you know, the one that can attack eight times in a round?).
So without sounding too verbose or long-winded, I propose the following adjustments:  

Let's address the first Treant in the room - War Magic is downright mean to the Fighter's primary ability set.  Just swap it around.  Change the language like this: "Beginning at 7th level, when you use your Action to make a weapon attack, you may cast a Cantrip as a Bonus Action."
  "But what about spells that have a casting time of 1 Action!?" I hear you scream.  
Don't care.  Sorcerers get Quickened Spell, Eldritch Blast fires multiple separate rays, and Fireball has been around for three levels.  Get over it and let the Knight swing their weapon into a skeleton twice and rock a Firebolt on the sabertooth tiger gnawing on your Cleric.  It's their job - let them do it.
  And later, just upgrade the Bonus Action to a spell of 1st or 2nd level.  Yes, you're effectively "quickening" those spells, but the Fighter still burns their VERY LIMITED resources in the form of spell slots.  By 18th level, they hold no ability to be a more effective Wizard than the Wizard, but they CAN hit 3-6 times a round and unload a Hold Person beforehand.  Don't lie to yourself, you WANT that on your side.
Side Note: if you REALLY feel like they should sacrifice more to get that spell off, have them lose ONE of their attacks.  But not more than that.

  These tiny adjustments I ensure will make your Eldritch Knight more effective, exciting, and FUN to play, while still honoring the spirit of its origin.
For every failed dynamic, I used to throw myself into a complete overhaul of a class or archetype, or worse, made my own; flawed and devastating in ways I could never have imagined - all in an attempt to fix what was only minutely broken.  Grace (and age) have taught me that subtle adjustments carry the most elegance, and truly make all the difference.  

There ya go.  Eldritch Knight to Eldritch King.
You're welcome.
​-Adamus

These proposed adjustments, though allowed at my tables, are indeed HOMEBREW.  Be sure to ask your DM for approval before utilizing them.

The monsters of Dungeons and Dragons sometimes fall into the swirling cyclone of the diametric.  Two sides of an arcane coin, unequivocally linked to one another.  Some grow out of opposition, while others are twisted transformations of one - a dark miasma of spitting fire and screaming madness.  
  With all my talk of pendulums swinging and balances shifting, my lens lingers on creatures of this influence.  They are fascinating to consider - beyond our stats and alignments, to explore the STORY of their nature and what gives way in the imagination's gates when you do.

  The white winged horses known as Pegasi soar through moon-touched skies, a vision of grace and majesty.  When glimpsed by mortals, they linger only for a moment, touching down for a drink from mountain springs or crystal lakes.  Intelligent and vigilant, any sound or sign from the local wildlife will send them back into the safety of the clouds above.

Born in dens of starlight in the realms of Arborea, the overwhelming positive good of a newborn Pegasus would spill out into the astral sky, alighting new stars and sending the nearby plants to bloom.  An equine marvel hatched from an egg, a Pegasus embraces flight almost immediately, its feathered wings glinting with astral efflorescence.  
  Pegasi nests are commonplace in Arborea, and the wondrous sentience of the creatures makes them loyal mounts to the Seldarine - the pantheon of Elven gods.  Faster and calmer than any wyvern, a Pegasus must be persuaded to serve their rider, entering a partnership that can last millennia.  The Seldarine will sometimes send Pegasi to the Material Realms to aid their followers or serve as messengers of their will, but depending on the forces in play, sending these faithful creatures has its own risks...

A visage of hellish terror, a Nightmare often appears in a cloud of roiling smoke, its mane, tail, and hooves wreathed in fire.  The creature's onyx form moves with a wraith's speed, vanishing into the night in a burst of brimstone.  
  Though it can be ridden by the occasional antihero on a redemption kick, the Nightmare is a prime mount for creatures of exceptional evil.  Demons, devils, death knights, and liches all call this fiendish horse a steed, and many more repugnant souls seek to claim their own by summoning one from the Lower Planes.  Thing is, if you don't feed that hell horse a worthy sacrifice upon its arrival, it has no reason to stay loyal to you.  A good many cultists have been burned to a crisp due to this small omission in the fine print.

This is where things get interesting.
  According to Dungeons & Dragons canon, a Nightmare isn't BORN, they are MADE.  It takes a dark ritual involving the torturous removal of a Pegasus's wings, the more brutal the better.  Literature is mixed, but the theme here is cruelty; the slower and more horrific the removal, the greater the Nightmare produced.  And this isn't a bait and switch situation; the Nightmare IS that tortured Pegasus, driven insane by brutality and dark magic. 
t's sick.  And I kind of love it.
  Because this relationship raises a few pathways that I want to consider:
First, the inner circle of the Seldarine would be indirectly responsible for the creation of a Nightmare in most cases, as these dark rituals often take place at the hands of mortals - or those directly tied to them.  To send a Pegasus as an avatar of the Seldarine opens them to possible capture through dark forces, perpetuating a dangerous silent war of astral attrition.  How insane to fathom an Archfey riding into battle only to come face-to-face with their old trusty mount, twisted by darkness and brutality.  
Second, the Nightmare retains the intelligence of Pegasus form.  This is no mindless beast bent to one's will, and though the rituals require sacrifice to link the mare to the rider, I would venture that a mental or verbal bargain is still required.  In fact, I could see the maddening steps of a certain ritual play out deliciously - fool a Pegasus into believing it is making a heroic pact and companion, only for the creature's true nature to slowly twist the poor being into its Nightmare; like a frog slowly boiling in the pot.  
  You're not breaking down a pet, you're convincing a sentient creature - this requires more nuance.  I like to think that every Pegasus has a name, a personality; hopes, dreams, goals, not unlike a heroic PC.  How does one twist and manipulate a hero into becoming a villain?  If the Star Wars prequels taught us anything, it was how NOT to portray one's turn to the dark side (sudden is bad writing) - what if this process could be more insidious?  Slow and manipulative, with a grand payoff.
Finally, the monster lore stated that the more brutal the shift, the STRONGER the Nightmare.  Which pulls me down the jackal hole.  If you have a particularly twisted or prolonged "ritual", could you create a "greater" Nightmare?  I'd imagine that Pegasi under the Seldarine would make names for themselves similar to their heroic riders.  Perhaps the greater the renown, the harder the fall.  Such a change might yield something along the lines of a Night Terror (or "Knight Terror"); the twisted mirror of a once great heroic steed.
  And if this is possible, could a Nightmare be redeemed?  Perhaps its flight is never restored, but its good nature and starlit white coat, with blue fire for its crest, restored.  What story could that creature tell?

As I research, I leave you with one more idea through the ether.  A Nightmare canonically can pass through the Ethereal Plane, carrying its rider and several others along for the journey.  Imagine what it sees in the mist of the dead.  Old soldiers failing to pass on?  The spirits of lingering beasts and the wisps of old sages?  Or do they see themselves...the Pegasus inside, a haunting specter of their past life. 
And does a Pegasus dream of its other possible lives?  Does its innate senses of fate and danger paint the picture of its dark future, its Nightmare, in cool reflections of mountain springs.  

The pendulum swings.  
Take care, lovely people.
-Adamus

A cursed mix of wings, talons, and a vampiric stag's head, the Peryton is a monstrous entity.  It is depraved relentless in its vicious pursuit to maim and devour the hearts of other creatures, holding a specific hatred for humans and elves.  Even injured, these creatures will hunt down detected foes, until at least one of them is dead.

Their feathering from a distance could be considered beautiful, and with wings tucked, settled upon the ground, the Peryton might pass for a lesser woodland being.  The moment one gets closer, though, you'll notice a good many things are off.

First, actually, would be the smell.  In this case, a lack of one.  Less sensitive noses would identify the creature as human, but those with a modicum of training or enhanced primal senses would pick no smell at all, coupled with an overwhelming sense of dread.  
  Standing over 7 feet tall, the Peryton's demonic stag face smiles with rows of razor-sharp teeth.  The plumage of their chest might tell you their gender (males tend to be blue, while females are a pale white), but soon you won't care.  Their antlers, jet black and harder than steel, are used to rend and impale, and their depraved form is resilient to all but magical weapons. 
As their eyes of orange flame pierce through the fog, any light that passes over them lies about their true form.
  For you see, the most peculiar element of a Peryton is their shadow.  This winged, evil beast will hiss before you, but its shadow will present as human.  Always.  Human.  

This oddity presents a plethora of curious theories, but few had evidence to match.
  Some Loremasters believe the false shadow to be an echo of the last creature the Peryton killed.  Given its penchant for violence against humans and elves, this was the prevailing theory for hundreds of years.  It wasn't until the haphazard findings of one Grenaldi Mayweather, a gnomish priest under the cover of twilight, who one night happened upon a nest of the creatures in the Ghastshadow Mountains.  She observed the flock tear into a pack of roaming Aarakocran, ambushed or set upon as they slept.  Just as history told us, the Peryton ripped open the chests of their victims, consuming the still-warm hearts with grim satisfaction.  Mayweather watched in dread curiosity, eager to solve the riddle of the shadow...  But the humanoid echo remained.  No winged shadows manifested.
  Mayweather was lucky to escape with her life, but returned soon after for more observation, this time with an elite guard to watch her back; the knowledge was too important not to be careful...

It would also be Mayweather that would witness the first instance of a Peryton being born.  Though there are documented family units of a male and a female Peryton (though they'd be hard-pressed to care for their young, if not kill them), this instance within the nest involved two females.  
  Both left to hunt, smelling blood on the wind.  They were gone for hours.  When they returned, blood dripping from their claws, they delivered several chunks of flesh to the next to feast upon, and a still writhing human man!  Mayweather watched as her lookout - a young brown-eyed ranger - was clutched by one of the pair and pulled toward the other, like it was presenting a gift.  Firey smoke and twisting gray tendrils spilled from the one in waiting, before its teeth sank into the man's chest, ripping his beating heart from the cavity.  His body went limp, and Peryton female scarfed down the heart, her eyes shifting translucence in the penumbra.  
  Then Mayweather heard a sound that sent chills down her spine.  
Like an echo of a child's laugh.  A giggle in the gloom, small and innocent.  Then it grew, warping and dancing along the walls, raising in pitch and warble, until it is a chorus of cackling.  The other eyes in the nest rise and join in, their necks convulsing and twisting backward with the sound, a malevolent inversion of mirth and satisfaction.  The sound becomes a beast in and of itself, a roiling mass of whoops and hollers, striking chords and stark dissonance.  Vibrations spill out the mouth of the cave, whispers at the ears of the hidden spies, and shouts upon the walls that surround them.
  The guards around the gnome begin to clutch and claw at their ears, the cacophony bringing a few to tears.  Mayweather instinctually covers the sob of her closest ranger, insisting that he get himself together.
Then.
Silence.
  The smell of dread hits Mayweather's nostrils as she dares to peer into the nest.  All the Peryton stare straight ahead, their mouths gaping open - a frozen, terrifying smile.  Until they all snap their eyes...to her.

They made it out with one casualty.  Her second blue-eyed scout, snatched by a rogue talon before he could slip into the wooden door of a magnificent mansion.  
  Safe within the dimensional space, Mayweather vigorously wrote down her conclusions:
1. New Peryton are born by a female consuming the heart of a freshly killed humanoid.
2. Their shadows flicker into monstrous forms during the process of incubation.
3. When incubation begins, nearby Peryton gain heightened senses to protect the pregnant female, becoming even more violent.  The more there are, the stronger the pack's senses.
  Her fourth note she added weeks later, when her guards - while out hunting - were set upon by a pair of Peryton, seemingly tracking them for miles.  When they finally confronted the creatures, they were surprised to see two young Peryton, newborns - one with brown eyes and the other with blue, both with shadows of human form.  ...Felling the creatures was tough, but much worse for their psychology.  Poor guys.
4. Newborn Peryton share the eyes of the creature whose heart they were born from.  As they get older, and kill more for their own survival and pleasure, the blood tarnishes the eye color, shifting it to match the orange-red of the others.

Mayweather and others theorized that the first Peryton was a cursed human or elf, twisted by a god of chaos.  The bards of old expanded upon this, marking its origin to infidelity, curses, and carrions feasting on cursed corpses.
  Given Mayweather's most recent expeditions, however, the clearest line exists through pure vehemence.  These aren't cursed humans - they were MADE by something.  Sometime in the first age, when great magics could be wielded by mere mortals, a wizard general - whose name is lost to time - sought a tactical edge against the elven and human alliances.  So he juxtaposed what he had on hand with fiendish blood.  An intellect unmatched, the alchemist rivaled the gods for a moment - before his heart was ripped from his chest...

Mind the shadows.  Watch the skies.
See you next time.
-Adamus

Obi-Wan Kenobi had some problems.  Let's talk about it.

(Spoiler Warning for: Seasons 1 & 2 of The Mandalorian, Season 1 of The Book Of Boba Fett, and Obi-Wan Kenobi)

There is a term in film referred to as Chekhov's Gun.  It is a dramatic principle coined by one Russian playwright, Anton Chekhov.  It states that all significant details introduced into a story should serve a narrative function, and irrelevant elements should be removed.  Elements that never come into play act as "false promises" to the audience, eroding their trust and enjoyment.
  Now, Kenobi is pretty tight for its runtime, and does a decent job in setting up elements to be used later.  A Jedi's entire power set is a framework for Chekhov's Gun.  Show them studying a new power?  It should show up later in an impactful way.  They retrieve their lightsaber?  They better pull that sucker out when it matters.  
  And it works for everything.  Want a character to have an impactful, dramatic sacrifice involving a thermal detonator?  Show them clipping that detonator to their belt, or talking about it.  A character mentions their undercover experience?  Time for an infiltration!
  These aren't cheap tricks.  It's filmmaking 101.  A more broad term for this is Setup and Payoff.  If you introduce an element, there should be a satisfying payoff for it.  Time isn't usually a factor - some elements play the long game, some are a few seconds of sequence.  A change of lighting can be its own setup, and the flare of a blade summoned into being is the payoff.  Subtle and elegant, loud and obnoxious, it fits all types.  
  But you have to plan for these things.  It requires time, practice, and follow-through.  Unfortunately, it seems, Disney built many setups and either haven't paid them off yet, or forgot about them altogether (and considering there's no real reason for a Season 2, my money's on the latter).  
Below you'll find a few instances that stung - wonderful setups with either no payoff, or something less than satisfying:
1. In the first episode, we're shown Kenobi slicing meat in an assembly line and walking down the line to get his wages.  The poor guy ahead of him notices that the wage is half from the day before, but the boss is aggressive about it, so he just takes it.  Kenobi watches, gets his pay, and doesn't cause trouble.  My thought: Kenobi's in a dark, repressed place, but he's a good guy; maybe he'll check up on that guy's family later and send them some food that he caught in the wilds, or we'll see him back on the line at the end and he sticks up for the guy, using his Jedi Mind Trick to help out the workers subtly.  REALITY: we never see that old gentleman again.  Can this still work to illustrate Kenobi's state of mind on the surface?  Of course!  But it feels like a missed opportunity.
2. Somewhere near the middle of the run, Leia gets captured, threatened, and then strapped to some machine.  The Inquisitor gets called away, leaving two Stormtroopers to guard her.  Then the lights go out.  My thought: we're going to see a lightsaber blur into being just long enough to watch a trooper get cut down, the other's gonna' freak out and fire, either hitting his buddy and then getting a blaster bolt deflected into him or get cut down just as fast.  Kenobi's cut through droids and blast doors like butter before, this is going to look so cool!  REALITY: a blue lightsaber springs into being and clocks a Stormtrooper, bouncing off of him like a baseball bat (what?), then cuts him down in 3-4 swings.  The other guy, apparently too slow to notice or shoot, shouts into the darkness before Kenobi reappears and baps him around a bit before we finally see a streak through his armor.  My issue: Lightsabers don't behave like that.  They never have.  They deflect blaster fire, which isn't stopped by trooper armor.  They punch through blast doors feet thick.  Those troopers aren't my man Mando in bescar plate; lightsabers cut through them like butter.  This fact is compounded by at least three other instances where higher level soldiers are straight up STABBED THROUGH THE CHEST by a lightsaber, and a door is sliced open.  Just...why?  Stabbing's no big issue, but slicing's bad?
3. Our Inquisitor of spoilers goes by the name Reva.  She is ruthless, rageful, and trying hard to get that sweet sweet Grand Inquisitor title.  Turns out (SPOILERS) she's actually a youngling who lived through the purge at the Jedi temple.  She says she played dead, but it's unclear if Anakin just missed her or didn't deal a killing blow.  Reva has joined the Inquisitors and risen through the ranks in order to kill Vader herself; revenge for those he slaughtered during the purge.  Kenobi guesses this with previous clues and the two hatch a plan where Kenobi can get some rebels to safety and she can get her revenge.  My thought: Vader's coming and he's coming fast; I can't wait to see him wreck shop!  I heard that he can pull ships, so maybe he'll grab onto their runaway ship and Kenobi will resist him, which distracts him long enough for Reva to strike.  She'll get a few good hits in, Obi-Wan escapes, and then she's done for, but it'll be a poignant duel.  REALITY: Vader wrecks shop, ripping a ship from the sky faster than anyone I've seen, and starts tearing it apart like a cat on meth.  Then, a SECOND ship that we've never seen before lifts off at blinding speed and zooms into space (looked janky as hell).  Dude can sense everything, but couldn't tell that the ship he just turned into tissue paper was empty or that the one 5 feet from it had his old master.  So...after Kenobi and company are long gone...Reva finally makes her move.  He stops her, toys with her, it's not even a fight.  Then he stabs her through the chest and she dies.  What did she think was going to happen?  Kenobi gave her an opening and she didn't take it.
4. ...Reva doesn't die.  Lady gets stabbed literally through the chest by a freaking lightsaber and just...walks it off.  My thought: ...okay.  Well, maybe she can spin a little redemption and join Obi-Wan in the final battle; maybe she fights off the other Inquisitors so Kenobi can get to Vader!  REALITY: (In a move that feels like a quick re-shoot) Reva learns that Vader has a son on Tatooine, gets her broken ass up and over there in record time, BEATS UP UNCLE OWEN AND AUNT VARU, chases little Luke into the desert and makes him slip on some rocks and get knocked out, then draws her lightsaber with the intent to kill him.  ...Except she can't do it, she LITERALLY CAN'T.  So what stops her is that she sees herself in the boy and returns him to his family.  Not sure what they'll tell little Luke about his harrowing experience...  What a waste.

The most frustrating thing about these is that if someone just took some time and thought about the whole package, the internal consistency of their own series, took one more sweep in the writer's room...all of this could have been cleaner, stronger, and more satisfying.  In the end, it feels so rushed for something that needed to feel thoughtful and genuine.
  In a nutshell, episode to episode, the series still delivers on its emotional beats.  It does a lot of things VERY well (showing a galaxy actually occupied by troops, Imperial sympathizers, spies, and the beginnings of a rebellion), and our young Princess Leia has Carrie Fisher's tenacity down pat.
BUT.
Was it truly necessary to include Luke and Leia to this degree?

Luke's inclusion, from a distance, makes sense.  Kenobi and Owen are friends, or at least used to be.  By the time Episode IV rolls around, Owen wants Luke to have nothing to do with "old Ben", and Luke doesn't have any relationship with the guy.  He's supposed to protect from a distance and be a recluse; that makes sense.
  Leia on the other hand...  If she shared this beautiful friendship (and it is quite wonderfully done, mind you) with Obi-Wan Kenobi...then why does she feel nothing when he dies in Episode IV (it barely registers for her).  She knows OF him through her father, Senator Organa, but if this whole adventure happened in the first place, did she just forget all about him?  Do they visit, do they talk, do they learn of each other as Leia grows up? (if they're trying so hard to connect relationships, this one hits strangely for me, like we're missing something)
  And how does Luke have no knowledge of the force or lightsabers if a literal Sith chased him into the desert.  Now, Owen knew she was coming and told Luke that it was a Tusken Raider, and you could argue that perhaps he never saw the lightsaber, but again if THIS happened, other events don't add up.

Now a lot of these gripes and elements are the product of a changing landscape and an expansion of creative content.  Not everything can line up perfectly all the time, wrapped up in a nice neat bow.  I should be happy we got the show at all.  And, considering that what they're connecting is nearly a 50 year span of creative content, including sweeping changes to film and television technology, how we consume and discuss media, and how companies react to those discussions.  
And yet...
  

  WHAT IF YOU JUST DIDN'T INCLUDE THEM?
The show is about the Inquisitors hunting down Jedi and Vader seeking Obi-Wan Kenobi.  It's about Kenobi's realization that Anakin is alive, but actually dead, and that the idea of Vader killed what he once was.  It's about their clash, and Kenobi's rise from a man in hiding back to a Jedi Master.  It's about him subduing threats to himself and the boy quietly in the sand, or across the galaxy in the forests of Alderaan.  I am here for THAT story; where he can never find true connection, but must protect while he struggles with his guilt over Anakin.
Sure, Leia did great.  Props to her.  Excellent performance.
Sure, Leia's new droid will sell a million toys.  It's adorable.
Sure, Kenobi and Vader's duel will elevate other Star Wars content because it really was that good.
It just didn't push any boundaries.  Everyone acts the way you expect them, lines written that we've heard a million times before, and outcomes that MUST work out...because other content exists.  The need for Disney to CONNECT every piece of their Star Wars universe has pushed them into difficult corners.  For now, we can shrug and let it go.  But how long can they do this before they have drained every last ounce of story from known characters and they must (GASP) head in a new direction?  (let's hope they actually plan it this time)

It was good enough.  
It was safe.
And not very interesting.

May the Force Be With You.
Always.
​-Adamus

Star Wars has no business being this good.

With the critical miasma of divisive reviews flooding the airways after The Last Jedi and The Rise Of Skywalker (whatever your personal opinion), this franchise has been in desperate need of a new energy.   ...Which is precisely what "Visions" provides.  Where the franchise shines is in short vignettes; self-contained stories in a multitude of styles and directions.

The Mandalorian made us love Star Wars again, and reinforced the idea that it was a world we wanted to explore outside of a main cinematic experience.  This animated anthology is the next logical step in that exploration.

When the Animatrix came out, Warner Bros. pulled out all the stops.  They drew in absolute giants of the anime field; VISIONARY directors and animation studios, truly artful expressions and ideas - some directly linked to sequel bait, others just concentrated, intimate stories - that captured the atmosphere of the setting and respected its potential in storytelling.  
  Star Wars: Visions is precisely this approach.  Acclaimed directors and studios, some of the finest animators in the world, each striking their brush on this titanic canvas.  The vignettes and snap-shot stories they produce play with concepts and ideas already expressed inside this universe, and stretch the boundaries of what becomes possible within each frame.  In a word, these stories are BEAUTIFUL.  Striking, kinetic, magnificent, and driven.

It's worth noting that these tiny stories are considered non-canon, and I think that's freeing to the artists.  No one has to worry about tying anything into anything, so creators can explore more deeply the vibrant and weird of their own interpretations.  And things certainly get WEIRD.
  They also get mega badass.  From the first vignette (The Duel), you know you're in for something special.  An artistic style thrown back into the realms of the Seven Samurai - black and white cell-shades where the only color is electronics and the glow of a lightsaber; I was ENTHRALLED.  
  Based on visuals, I actually expected the violence to be a bit more brutal, but it's Disney+, so we ain't getting that here.  In fact, if I may, some of our stories DID suffer from their "stream-ability".  Each episode is about 24 minutes long, and while some stories filled that time easily, many others carried with them a strange sense of FILLER.  It makes me think on Disney's first and second season of Short Cuts - 90-second short films by a menagerie of directors and artists within Disney's animation teams.  So much story-driven information had to be conveyed in such a short time and even some of those felt too long, or not long enough.  Restriction breeds creativity, yes, but when you have MORE MONEY THAN GOD, maybe you could stretch some of those bindings; give time where it is needed and trim it where it is not. 

Though the nine stories have a dread fascination with Jedi (I mean, seriously, could somebody just NOT be force-sensitive for once?), they definitely understand how a lightsaber is supposed to work.  Blades slice through metal and stone, clash against each other, pierce through armor, and cut through droids like paper.  Each short sets up its expectations, and stays consistent in the rules of the world (unlike Kenobi, that is - marvel as the old Jedi Master swings a lightsaber like a bat and it BOUNCES OFF stormtrooper armor, but then it deflects blaster fire and THAT pierces trooper armor; not to mention that sabers can easily pierce through blast doors...rant subsided for now).
  This anthology plants a highly specific, binding seed of specific knowledge across every vignette: Crystals - the essential component of any lightsaber, each with their own colors and qualities - apparently denote the morality of their wielder.  In terms of lore canon, this ALMOST fits.
Each crystal is supposed to have a different color; every game, novel, and comic confirms this.  With over 60 to choose from, there are a lot of possibilities, and though each had mechanical benefits, ANY could be used to construct the blade due to the versatility and elegance of a lightsaber's design.  However, to my knowledge and research, no mined crystal produces a red beam; red was built from a SYNTHETIC mock-up of a crystal.  Something to save on cost and overclock power.  In recent lore, it is posited that the energies of the Dark Side corrupt and disfigure a crystal within the hilt, turning it red.  Every Sith villain in the canon rocks that red lightsaber, yet we don't see any corruption take place (something I'd LOVE to see, or the inverse of a redeemed Sith); often they just get a new one and it's red.
  In Visions, each of the nine stories holds to a purer idea: the Crystal reveals the true nature of its wielder.  It is the narrative's lie detector.  Somebody's all kind and cool?  Oops, their blade is red!  This person's kind of a jerk?  Except their blade is green, so they must be a double agent!  It's a color wheel of morality, and it is utilized in some fun ways.  
Not sure if it's a little too "on-the-nose" though, at least moving forward.  For Disney, it's a device to clearly illustrate who we're rooting for in a dance of robes and lasers, but for me, an adult, I might be craving a little more nuance.  Like I said at the start, THIS IS NOT CANON, so let's go a little crazy.  Let's go deeper, ask some bigger questions!  Not everything needs to be so black and white, or red and blue/green/yellow/purple/orange/white.  (next blog I'm going to don my nerd glasses and go deeper on this whole blade color thing...)

Every story here is DRIPPING with iconic style.  The animation studios pulled out all the stops to craft a memorable work of art.  So you're not here all day reading about me gushing on this, I'd like to talk briefly about each one:
1. The Duel - set in an alternative timeline reminiscent of feudal Japan, a Ronin comes to the aid of a village ravaged by bandits.  "Vintage" black and white cgi where color pops through lasers and electronics, this is a masterclass in shading, light, and taking your time to build tension.  Fun fact: this one is so good that it's getting its own graphic novel and full comic series!
2. Tatooine Rhapsody - during the Clone Wars, a Padawan becomes a rock star in a world run by dangerous Hutts.  Frenetic and energized animation, injecting some vibrant comedy after that first episode.  Not gonna' lie, I wasn't engaged with this one on the first go around; maybe it felt like whiplash from The Duel, or maybe it was little too juvenile for my tastes.  A second viewing did better. 
3. The Twins - in the remnants of the Empire after The Rise Of Skywalker, two force prodigies battle over the decision to annihilate a planet.  This one was WILD.  Reminded me a lot shonen anime battles; the over-the-top Naruto fights with huge powers and pregnant pauses.  Anyone who has played The Unleashed games will feel right at home with how much power is displayed on screen here - they're fighting IN SPACE, on top of a Star Destroyer.  It's pretty nuts.  Pay attention to this short's use of color and quick framerate, but be prepared for a substantial suspension of disbelief.  Can't explain it?  The Force did it!
4. The Village Bride - years after Order 66, a Padawan travels to a distant planet and comes to the aid of a village ravaged by bandits.  This one felt powerfully grounded, animation simple and efficient.  A coming of age story and another samurai vibe.
5. The Ninth Jedi - many generations after the fall of the Jedi, an old master invites seven Jedi to his temple to receive lightsabers whose design has been lost to time; buy spies are everywhere and not everything is as it seems.  ...This one is my favorite; it's clean, powerful, intense, and has a healthy number of twists.  Plus, and it's worth noting that the fight choreography has been great so far, but boy did I NOTICE it in this one.  I don't want to spoil, but it's real good.  If you skip the rest of the series, watch this one at least!
6. T0-B1 - A cybernetic boy, who dreams of being a Jedi, discovers a dangerous truth about his creator.  Gotta' be honest, I didn't like this one as much.  The art style has that Astroboy vibe, and overall brings some interesting concepts to life (it is quite cute).  I suppose after all these serious stories, it's nice to get a little kiddy.  Just not my mood (could be yours!).
7. The Elder - A Jedi and his Padawan pursue a dark and powerful presence.  Cut and dry Sith hunt; great tension, cool animation, straight-forward (style reminds me a lot of Avatar: The Last Airbender).
8. Lop and Ocho - A family is torn about what to do when the Empire encroaches on their planet.  This one features an unnamed race in the character Lop, a bunny-like fursona adopted into a humanoid family.  When the Empire colonize the planet and recruit, the two sisters come to an impasse and clash over the independence of their business.  Raises some neat questions about the families stuck in the trenches and makes this feel like a military occupation - like a war - and in war, there are consequences.
9. Akakiri - A Jedi returns to his forbidden love to help defend her kingdom from a Sith-like Shogun.  Animation style takes some getting used to and it certainly stands out.  Feels like a western wrapped up in sushi platter with a dash of True Grit with a twist; shaken, not stirred.  It wasn't what I expected, and was definitely memorable.

These stories were made through a love of Star Wars, simple and powerful.  They began to push the boundaries of storytelling, and open the setting to fans young and old, which is EXACTLY what Disney needs.  To explore droids as Jedi, expanding the racial lexicon of characters, redefining a force-user, and diving deeper into paths of darkness, death, and redemption.  
Glad we're getting a Season 2.  I'll keep holding out hope for a story about a regular Joe and Jill in this universe.
May The Force Be With You All.
-Adamus

Ankhegs are born by bursting out of the dead carcass of their father, eggs being implanted inside him by the mother during mating.  That's awesome.  From there, they grow to Broodling size and take nutrients delivered to them by their mother from the surface.  Within a year, they are big enough to leave the nest and burrow on their own, taking some time in their second year to shed their first shell and grow a second - during this time they're pretty killable, so they secrete a foul noxious smell.  Unfortunately, this can also make them easier to track.  Oops.
  A single Ankheg can rule a territory almost entirely unnoticed, snatching local wildlife and soaking up nutrients from the sun and ground as it hibernates.  Two or more Ankhegs will grow more aggressive over resources and will attack more frequently, drawing more attention to local towns and cities.  
  Their habitats can also cause problems to local infrastructure.  As little as 40 feet below the surface, with tunnels spanning upwards from 150 feet long, these winding burrows are known to rupture and cave in unsuspecting villages if left unchecked.  A single Ankheg's lair is one littered with bones and carcasses, with hollowed domes for hibernation or eating.   So imagine what that looks like with multiple bug-brains rooting around in the same territory.  They'll dig deeper and longer, and breed more; the cycle can devastate whole regions over a couple decades.  
  So, you know, always plenty of work for an Adventurer For Hire.

After centuries of seasoned adventurers hunting them for their hide, acidic pouches, and resistant carapace, Ankheg broods have been burrowing deeper into the annals of Ionian geology.  Only the most chaotic of scholars have glimpsed their extensive underground networks.  The information they returned with spells a warning and a challenge to any that dare cross the Sandsea Of Jakt.  
  
BROODLING - descendants of the ancient wyrm, the Broodling is a tempestuous child, often found in birthing sacks (made from the dead husk of a mated male) hung from nooks in winding tunnels of an Ankheg Den.  Fresh to life, their carapace is still soft, resembling that of a young prawn.  Trappers believe that their hide actually more valuable in this state; as it is pliable and hardens over time, able to be shaped into effective armor.  It is this reason that drives trappers and young bounty hunters into the deep cords...and the reason that some do not make it back alive.  
  Broodlings hang in pods of 6-12 at a time, and must be harvested quickly.  For once that pod breaks, all of them wake up.  They're fast, frenetic, and feral.  Their pouches still growing, they instead use their pincer-like teeth to punch through armor in quick jabs, dealing 1d2+1 damage.  They also attack twice in their birthing frenzy, a note of caution to anyone thinking this is an easy kill.  Now, yes, their AC is 8, and Hit Points negligible, but all it takes is a few good strikes to fell the party wizard.  Still, if you can nab even a couple of these little guys, you should be sitting comfortable for a few months, especially after they shed that first armored coat, and that might just be the price of a level 1 wizard.
​SOLDIER - the Soldier Ankheg is the most common iteration of the creature, the textbook example in all its glory.  Smarter and stronger than a Broodling, the Soldier Ankheg hunts for itself or its Alpha, consuming, scarring, or capturing prey to be consumed later.
ALPHA - an Alpha Ankheg is a rare sight for most skirmishes.  Superior burrowers, the Alpha communicates to its Soldiers through an evolved vibration frequency, pushing and pulling them toward potential prey.  Though not every pack will have an Alpha, those that do operate with effective tactics - they lay traps, set ambushes, denote threats, and retreat if overwhelmed.  
  An Alpha in the field is a frightening visage.  Huge in scale, an Alpha is identified by its acidic scarring upon the external carapace in long swathes, resembling streaks of petrified bark.  These stripes are strongest part of the Alpha's armor, immune to acid and fire damage.  The Alpha's breath is also devastating; due to in-fighting within the pod, an Alpha develops an expanded bile sack, called the Leviathan Pouch, which coupled with their secondary throat produces an acid cone 60 feet long.  The Leviathan Pouch also allows extended use of the Alpha's breath, netting it three expulsions before it needs to recharge its bile (Recharge on a D8, 7-8).
  Their chitinous plating weathered and tempered, only seasoned warriors dare go toe-to-toe with an Alpha.  Resistant armors, healing potions, and blades lined with sharpening oil are their best bets.  A friendly cleric couldn't hurt, either.
​PRIME - Prime Ankhegs are myths.  Said to be Gargantuan in size, those that theorize of their existence point to the ascensions of new Alphas, where a Soldier Ankheg kills a wounded or aging Alpha, and takes their place.  The Soldier can only assert this dominance if they too have evolved their chitinous plating, a process of battle and time.  They surmise that if a pack of Soldiers without an Alpha lived long enough and fought hard enough, that each could evolve into this "ascended" state.  IF such a pack existed and vied for dominance within itself, could it not produce something even more powerful?  An Alpha among Alphas.
Beyond this thought, speculations abound.  A leviathan of the earth, consuming whole buildings in its wake, its brood a nightmare upon the material world.  Perhaps this creature exists beyond the imagination and machinations of the world's scholars, the seed of an ancient phantasm planted; or perhaps they exist already, a mutated corruption growing in realms beyond...

Happy rolling.
-Adamus

Short and sweet and stupid this month.

THE AFFINITY RECIPE
1 oz Scotch
1 oz Dry Sherry
1 oz Port Wine
2 dashes Angostura Bitters

TASTING NOTES
​+ This seems like an odd thing to do to wine.
+ If you're not a wine gal, this might beef up the mix for you, but if you're like me and you like your wine sweeter, this may not hit the way you like.
+ Sherry and Port go well together, but the Scotch is my jam.
+ I recommend some Tallisker and maybe 4 dashes of Ango instead, just to add a little bite and character to the palette.

AFFAIR RECIPE
2 oz Strawberry Schnapps
2 oz Cranberry Juice Cocktail
2 oz Orange Juice
1 oz Sprite

TASTING NOTES
+ Personally, I'd swap the Orange and Sprite amounts.  There's enough citrus in here.
+ Also, it's freaking delicious.
+ You might find the tart of the cranberry a little distracting.  If so, just add more Sprite or Schnapps or both.

That's all folks.  Be safe out there.
-Adamus-

This month I'll share with you something I always keep in stock for myself.

As you get into this hobby, you'll undoubtedly try a cornucopia of unanticipated flavors.  Some will rest better than others, populating your ever-expanding web of molecular gastronomy and poor life decisions.

From these experiences, we settle on a few simple truths:

1. Campari is a waste of time and ruins almost every drink it's used in, even the ones where it's supposed to be the star.  Like a drunk Aunt that just can't seem to get past the idea that men can paint their nails and still bench 250.
2. Bad Irish Whiskey is basically dirty water.
3. People have too many opinions about wine, and sommeliers are guessers with better guesses than you.
4. Stella Rosa may be carbonated, but it's tastier and cheaper than your 20-year old vintage mahogany aged piss.
5. Midori ruined my childhood.
6. Fireball is better than you remember.  ...You're still drinking antifreeze, though.
7. Disaronno is the king's amaretto.
8. Jose Cuervo is garbage, liquid and business.
9. The existential dilemma of watching your hair fall out while every other member of your family rocks a full fop is a fate worse than death.
10. Viking Blod is a damn fine mead.

Viking Blod is everything I want out of a mead.
  It is warm in color and palette, and you can taste the fine honey notes.  They percolate at the beginning, middle, and end, and there is a subtle "wine" taste.  That latter normally wouldn't be my jam, but everything else is so good that I don't care.  In fact, after a glass or two, I don't care about much.
  This stuff is strong.  Clocking in at a whopping 19% (38 proof) per glass...  This isn't your momma's wine.  I appreciate a concentrated burst of efficiency.  If I want a tasty buzz while I sip, and I don't want to down a bunch of hard stuff, I can trust that a full wine glass of this and I'll be set.  Two in and I'm happily done; warm and tingly on the couch laughing at dumb anime and catching only snippets of Geralt's lines (god bless you, Henry Cavill).  Replace your dessert with this and you'll be dandy.
  If you're looking for this bottle of concentrated hopes and dreams, you can find it at more and more local wineries and liquor stores, and it ain't even that expensive!  

...that's it.  It's good.  Good day.
-Adamus

The abbey is a gin and juice vehicle, and you'll encounter many variations throughout your life.  Some splash in some sweet vermouth, others an ounce of citrus vodka, and still others a plethora of strange bitters.  The additions are minute, though, so as never to detract from the original orange identity.

RECIPE
​1.5 oz Gin (I recommend Tanqueray if you've got it lying around)
3/4 oz Orange Juice
1-2 dashes of Orange Bitters

TASTING NOTES
+ Gin has always been a match for juice.  Its citrus back-burn carries the sweet of the orange juice.
+ And just in case the orange juice hanging out in your fridge is the other side of decent, the bitters will breathe new life into the flavor palette.

This one's weird.  Please continue.

RECIPE
2 oz Brandy
1/2 oz Peppermint Schnapps
1/2 oz White Creme de Cacao
1/2 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 tsp. sugar
1 oz Club Soda

TASTING NOTES
+ This is a strange soda.
+ Mint and chocolate always go well together...
+ ...but the Brandy is a curious goose.
+ Lemon and Sugar go well with soda, producing a nearly Sprite sensation.
+ Does it all work together?  Uncertain.  Carbonation can sometimes serve as a great equalizer in this instance.  
+ The mini cocktail of Peppermint-Cacao-Lemon-Sugar is great in the soda, and might be fine on its own.
+ Brandy *might* pull you into a trans-dimensional wormhole.  Mint brandy might ground you in reality better.

The Acapulco is definitively an island drink.  Garnished with mint leaves and powered by rum, there's a sophistication to the addition of egg white, but no necessity.  Considering the use of triple sec, this can be pretty low-brow if you feel like it.

RECIPE
1 3/4 oz Rum
1/4 oz Triple Sec
1 egg white
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/4 tsp. sugar
2-3 mint leaves
*Mix all but the mint leaves into a shaker, shake like hell, strain over ice in a glass.  Stuff in the mint leaves after the fact, and sip on the beachside of Glaz Dukot, the perfect cocktail to view the End of the Age.

TASTING NOTES
+ I have thoughts.
+ Egg White is mainly used to manifest froth in a drink, and though this works, I'm not sure I like it yet.
+ Triple Sec is fine, but I actually recommend Dry Curacao instead.
+ If you feel so inclined, swap out the sugar for a splash of Simple Syrup or Orgeat, and I think that will manifest something a little more special with the mint.
+ Lime works.  Don't use Lemon - that would be bad.  The Lime and sugar with the shake makes this *almost* a soda.

So as you take in the sights and sounds of a resurrected cthulhu kraken wreaking havoc across the ocean styx, I hope you can, at the very least, get a little turnt on the way to oblivion.  
Drink up, me hearties.
-Adamus

These little buddies are so intrinsically in tune with the magical world that I have taken the liberty to codify a few with magical persuasions of their own.  Sure, you'll have the standard pseudodragon flapping around your nooks and crannies and old libraries, but if you dig deep enough and scour long enough, you'll undoubtedly run into one of these variants.
  Illusory - Pseudodragons don't have a specific language, instead communicating telepathically simple ideas.  Those that are steeped in illusion magic has found a way to interpret the innate basics of their school to help communicate better, manifesting in a sort of "thought bubble" above their heads communicating more intricate picturesque ideas.  I just love the idea of a pseudodragon with an ellipsis over its head as it ponders, and then watching it blip back and forth between steak and its studies; the ultimate SQUIRREL moment.  :)
  Evocata - a little friend who spends a lot of time around battle mages and explosives can evolve into a combustion dragon.  Highly emotional, passionate, and excitable, an Evocata will manifest its core magic in explosive bouts.  Get too excited?  Fireball.  Or Fog Cloud.  Or Plant Growth.  Get too sad?  Cast Darkness.  Get protective of their master, their binky, or their new bestest friend that they've known for five minutes?  Ray Of Frost.  Or Finger Of Death.  You know, TOTALLY NORMAL reactions.
  The list continues, and I have a feeling the more I play with this concept, the more hilarious it will become.  Does a Cleric use her Pseudodragon as her own personal lie detector because it's infused with Divination magic?  Does a diplomat use his to win over a crowd because he steeps in Enchantment?  The possibilities abound!  
(and now my players know...good luck)

See you at the table.
​-Adamus