"The Rings of Saturn: Fall of House Namarra" is a narrative retelling of a single-player Dungeons & Dragons campaign run by ChatGPT. The images included in this post were created by ChatGPT's image generator, Sora, based on descriptions provided throughout the campaign, and the story was driven by AI and shaped by decisions made by a human and his dice rolls along the way.
Previously...
Vandros
After a rough night out on the town with my partner, the grizzled dock worker Kerret and I rested and tended our wounds back at my hideout in the heart of Vandros. When the morning sun rose over the housetops, I figured it was time to act on the most promising lead I’d uncovered so far: Big Jarek, the shadowy crime lord rumored to be running his operation, in part, through a local tavern called The Nighthawk—and, if I was betting right, he was a key figure in the Maelstrom Syndicate, a powerful organization running the city's economy into the ground. But I wasn’t quite ready to charge into that nest of knives just yet. First, I had a loose end to follow up on. Or maybe I just wanted to see her again.
I pulled up my hood and made my way to the lavish lounge where I’d last seen Lady Virelle Cindara. She hadn’t lost a bit of her shine—draped in a crimson corset and those dangerously high-cut leggings, with eyes like daggers dipped in honey. I sauntered up, gave her a line about her missing raven necklace (which, I’ll admit, was tucked safely in my stash), and offered her a new piece instead—the glittering pendant I’d lifted from Warehouse 43. She accepted it with a smile, though there was a flicker of suspicion in her eyes. We danced through flirtation and innuendo until she let slip the name of the tavern’s signature drink—the Black Feather—and more importantly, confirmed that if Jarek was around, that would be a good place to look for him. I made my exit with style and made my way back to Kerret. I never knew him to say no to a strong drink.
The Nighthawk
Together, Kerret and I strolled the city streets toward The Nighthawk, this time not as prowlers but as patrons. The place lived up to its name—shadowy corners, low whispers, and a thick layer of danger in the air. I ordered the Black Feather, just like Virelle had suggested, and let my eyes wander. I spotted a tattooed woman leaning against a table, seated next to several muscle-bound thugs. At the next table over sat a twitchy dwarf nearby—an opportunity, if I ever saw one.
I persuaded the dwarf into making a move on the woman, knowing full well how it would go down. (Not well. He definitely didn't look like her type.) Kerret added some fuel to the fire, and soon we had ourselves a good old-fashioned bar brawl. Perfect cover.
While the chaos unfolded, I turned my charm on the bartender—a tough sort of elvish woman with sharp edges, not conventionally beautiful but oddly striking in her own way. She tried to keep her cool, but I could see the flicker of curiosity. After some wordplay, a few well-placed compliments, and a few extra coins (she asked for eight but I gave her nine), she agreed to take me somewhere more... private.
She led me to a dim office in the back—intimate, quiet, just the kind of place where real secrets get spilled. I leaned in close, played the part of the charming rogue, and eventually asked about Big Jarek. Her face tensed at the name, but she talked. Said he’d passed through the tavern recently, but he wasn't there today. He had moved on and set up in an old warehouse by the docks, running things from the shadows. She was scared, but not enough to stay silent. She didn't know much, but she pointed us in the right direction, and for now, that would have to be good enough.
(If you must know, I didn’t kiss her back in that office. Heavens, no. Not really my style, at least not tonight. But I left her with one of my spare rings—something to remember me by. A gesture of trust. A thank-you. Maybe a warning, depending on how things shook out.)
With more information and additional leads under the belt, Kerret and I slipped away from The Nighthawk. Once we were clear, Kerret finally spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh… really threw yourself into that one,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact as his ears reddened. “She looked like she could chew glass for breakfast—and then ask for seconds.” He paused, then grinned. “But if she gave up something useful, I’ll call it a win.”
I turned to him and said, “Yeah... I know. I know. Sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. But I got what we needed. We’re heading to the docks.”
The Docks
Kerret
and I made our way through the winding city streets toward the docks, following
the trail of whispers and half-truths about Big Jarek and the Maelstrom
Syndicate. I wasn't feeling particularly flush, monetarily speaking, after my
little escapade at The Nighthawk, so I kept my eyes peeled for any opportunity
to make back some coin. That’s when I noticed them—three rough-looking
dockhands loudly boasting about their latest haul and flashing their wealth
with no subtlety whatsoever. Not the innocent sort, by any means.
So, I did what I do best—sauntered
over in mock-drunken fashion and blurted out the first words that came to my
mind: "Praise Kier!" (Honestly, I have no idea who or what “Kier” is,
but it sounded good at the time, and it’s a phrase that still makes Kerret chuckle).
Confused, one of the workers turned
to the others and asked, “Who the hells is Kier??” That was enough of a distraction
for me to slip away with a handful of their gold. Not a perfect lift, but
enough to line my pockets with eight shiny pieces and a strange lapis token.
With no particular nor apparent need
for the token, I gifted it to a nearby beggar, flashing my signature salute as
we pressed on. “My stars... thank you, lad,” the beggar wheezed. “Praise Kier,
eh?” He tucked the odd trinket away in his grimy coat like it was worth a
fortune. Maybe to him, it was. Maybe it would change his whole life. Or maybe
he would try to pawn it and get stabbed in an alley by someone who really knew
what it was worth. Either way... it wasn't my problem anymore.
At the grungier edge of the pier, we spotted a sharp-eyed pickpocket: a kid who couldn’t have been older than 10—young, bold, and too clever for his own good. He made a move for my coin purse, but I caught him in the act and gave him a warning, along with a grin. We exchanged a few words. I told him to watch out for Big Jarek… and that got his attention. Out of curiosity, I asked if he was Big Jarek; unsurprisingly, he wasn’t, but he knew someone who might be able to help: a bum named Tallow, sleeping his troubles away in a nearby pile of crates and rags.
I slipped the kid a couple gold pieces for his honesty (and for making me laugh), then tiptoed over to Tallow and jolted him awake with another exaggerated "PRAISE KIER!" That poor, dirty man nearly had a heart attack.
Once I calmed him down, I explained our purpose, all wrapped in charm and nonsense. Tallow was a wreck, but he gave us the goods: Dock Twelve. Late hours. A warehouse. A password. Everything we needed to get inside. Apparently, the place used to be a staging point for hauling grand set pieces for the city’s opera houses. These days, though? It ferries "less artistic cargo." That phrase lingered in my mind.
"Tallow," I asked, dead serious. "Do you happen to know where we can get some opera clothes? ...Because if I’m going to infiltrate a secret criminal operation, I’m going to do it with style."
Tallow mentioned a nearby shop: Brillane’s Trunk, just off Widow’s Walk. Once a proper tailor for the theaters, it now mostly rents costumes to nobles and actors with pipe dreams. Sounded perfect to me.
I clapped Tallow on the shoulder and pulled him into a celebratory group hug with me and Kerret. The man smelled like regret and seagull, but he was unexpectedly helpful. That said, the next step of our plan would require something a bit more… theatrical.
Brillane's Trunk
Upon our arrival at Brillane's Trunk, we were greeted by Aelith, a mesmerizing elf with a sharp eye and even sharper wit. She quickly assessed us, and I, naturally, played the charming gentleman, spinning compliments and offering flirtation. Aelith was rather standoffish at first, but I managed to crack her cold exterior by appealing to her vanity and her love of adventure. It didn’t hurt that I knew how to work a crowd... and her.
As we chatted, I learned a little more about the business side of Big Jarek's outfit. Aelith seemed familiar with him, the Maelstrom Syndicate, and the disruption that terrible tandem was causing to local businesses, which only made me more convinced she was the right person to help us.
She agreed to outfit us with the necessary costumes for our ruse. But before we could get started, I sensed something was off—she seemed to have something up her sleeve, particularly with an odd obsidian ring she kept toying with. I tried my best to charm her into giving it up, but Aelith, ever clever, only offered me a trade for the ring: in exchange for her ring, she asked that I go take care of a local troublemaker named Tovin, who had been a hinderance to her business, as of late. I agreed to the deal, thinking that it seemed the best way to proceed.
As Aelith worked her sorcery with a sewing needle, I kept an eye on her movements and that ring of hers. Eventually, Kerret’s outfit was completed, and I couldn’t help but admire the transformation. His costume was a showstopper, complete with subtle touches that made it clear he could easily blend in with the opera folk moving through Dock Twelve.
Before we left, flirtatiously kissed
Aelith on the cheek, then headed off with Kerret to deal with this punk, Tovin.
Aelith had told us that he had been harassing local merchants, including
Brillane’s Trunk, and we knew it would truly benefit this little community to
take care of him for good. In a matter of minutes, we had located him.
To draw him into our trap, I gathered the attention of a crowd and, to Kerret’s utter shock, I announced that Vardos’ newest up-and-coming opera star, Kerret the Crooner, would be performing a brand-new song for them there that day—an impromptu number called "The Ballad of Tovin and Kier."
In a moment that will provide me endless amusement as long as I live, Kerret cleared his throat. And he sang.
Oh, Tovin, dear Tovin, so dashing and spry,
With a glint in his eye and a grin oh-so sly,
He dances through Vandros, a master of trade,
But for one thing, dear Tovin, his reputation’s been made!
Not with coin or with jewels, nor the finest of wine,
But a secret alliance with the great Kier divine!
Tovin and Kier, a pair so odd,
One a swift thief, the other a god,
They plunder and pray in the shadow of night,
With riches and hymns, they both take their flight.
So raise up your goblets, and sing of their fame,
For Tovin and Kier, they'll never be tame!
Their bond unbroken, their futures entwined,
An agent and master, two sides of the mind!
Kerret’s voice boomed through the market as he finished the last line with a flourish, spinning dramatically on his heel. He gave a broad grin that was half smug, half pleased with himself. The nearby crowd, many of whom were already looking your way, seemed to be caught off guard by the ridiculousness of the ballad. A few chuckle, but the whole performance had the desired effect: Tovin began to move in our direction, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion in his eyes.
Oh, Tovin, dear Tovin, so clever, so slick,
But behind all that charm, you’re nothing but thick!
Your mother, poor Tovin, must’ve lost her mind,
To raise such a rascal who’s always behind!
Tovin and Kier, well, they both know the game,
But Tovin’s too slow, too blind, just the same!
He thinks he’s a player, but he’s just a fool,
Too caught up in shadows to play by Kier's rules!
The song, poking fun at Tovin’s cowardice and his mother's questionable reputation, worked like a charm. I cornered him, and after some quick intimidation with my dagger to his back, Tovin agreed to skip town for good and stop harassing the merchants. He also agreed to mark a shipment of crates at Dock Twelve’s Warehouse 9, which would help us find Big Jarek.
All in a day's work for The Rings of Saturn.
With Tovin dealt with and some useful intel in hand, we headed back to Brillane’s Trunk to report our success to Aelith. She greeted us warmly, and after hearing our news, she provided us with several items to aid in our mission: the obsidian ring I had traded for, a hidden map marking a sealed passage beneath Dock Twelve that led to the opera storage tunnels and Maelstrom-adjacent warehouses, and the Ring of Burning Note—it bore no magical effect, but a striking costume piece that would grant me a +1 bonus on Persuasion checks made to pass as a noble or performer. She also shared a hint on how to enter Jarek's domain without raising suspicion, which we made a note of, as part of our battle plan.
As we prepared to leave, I asked Aelith for a kiss (for good luck, of course), and she obliged by giving me a quick peck on the cheek. But that's when I smirked at her and said that I wasn't talking about myself—I was talking about Kerret! She shyly walked over and gave my large friend a kiss goodbye (much to his shock and delight—you should have seen his face!). I couldn’t help but feel like we’d made a valuable ally in Aelith; this could be the first step in a beautiful partnership for many adventures to come.
With our sharp new disguises and an melodious strategy in place, we were ready to track down Big Jarek, once and for all.
To be continued.
Part 3
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