In one of Esoteric Ebb’s chambers lies a chest. Above it, a sign: “Not a mimic.” Snell, your goblin companion, deduces the most obvious outcome: The sign is the work of some prankster who’s hoping to get one over on whichever unsuspecting rube decides to saunter into this secreted away room, ignore the sign, and loot the chest. Mimics are often “chest-shaped” like this–the game’s joke, not mine–and seeing as how they are a trick as old as fantasy itself, it doesn’t take a genius to piece together how such an encounter might end.
Esoteric Ebb is a lot like the mimic in this scene. It looks and sounds like things it takes the shape of–some more obvious than others–but delights in playing with expectations one might have of it. Just when you think you might have it figured out, it contentedly throws another wrench in your understanding of its tone and aspirations. It’s a fun ride. It does not veer wildly off course in the process, but it is a stylistic and colorful detour that is nonetheless a riot worth your time.
In Esoteric Ebb, you are the Cleric, a bumbling idiot and magical savant sent by the magistrate to investigate the absolute hornet’s nest that is an explosion of a tea shop in Norvik. The timing couldn’t be any worse, since Norvik’s constituency is voting on a referendum. Should it stick by the Urth-worshipping Nationalists who’ve governed and shepherded the city through its founding decades, consequently hardening the attitudes and beliefs that have called its rule into question at this very moment? Should it instead ally itself with the deep-pocketed Freestriders who are clearly strong-arming their way to a victory? Or should the city consider other policies, like the dwarven-born egalitarian platform of Azgalism?
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