Wynmore Wendall: Bells in the Deep - Part 3

"Wynmore Wendall: Bells in the Deep" 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, based on descriptions provided throughout the campaign. The story was driven by AI and shaped by decisions made by a human and his dice rolls along the way.

Previously:

• Part 1
• Part 2

Oakbarrow Millpond

Wynmore Wendall stood at the edge of the old millpond with Captain Stenfold and Harlowe, staring down the impossible wooden staircase descending beneath the black surface. After everything he had learned about the wreck, the drowned crew, and the thing that had stolen his face, one final question remained before the descent.

“…I’m not going in first.”

Harlowe reminded him that he was currently hanging on to life by the narrowest margin. Stenfold pointed out the even more obvious fact that he was already dead. With the matter settled, Harlowe reluctantly led the way, Stenfold followed, and Wynmore stepped through the surface of the pond behind them.

The drowned road did not behave like ordinary water. Wooden stairs and fragments of the old ship hung suspended in blue‑black darkness while the surface of the millpond remained visible impossibly far overhead. Somewhere beneath them, the cursed bell continued to toll, offering both a destination and a reminder that their route home would not remain open forever.

Almost immediately, the path tried to lure them astray. A half‑submerged doorway appeared along a branching route where no doorway should have existed, but Wynmore refused to investigate another mystery. He chose the path leading toward the sound of the bell, keeping the mission simple: destroy the bell, kill the creature in the coffin, and survive.

The stairs eventually became the deck of Wynmore’s old ship. Black water pressed overhead like a glass ceiling, and the wreck groaned as though remembering the storm that had torn it apart. Then Wynmore heard footsteps matching his own.

Near the broken rail stood a drowned version of Wynmore Wendall.

The double possessed his build, his hair, his mustache, and his face, but its skin was gray and its eyes were empty black pools. It told Wynmore he had never survived the shipwreck at all—that the man who escaped the sea was something else wearing his identity. The accusation struck deeper than any blade, forcing a false memory into Wynmore’s mind: his own drowned corpse sinking beneath the waves.

For a few terrifying moments, he believed it.

The creature demanded Wynmore ask Stenfold which version of him had climbed out of the sea, and the captain’s hesitation provided just enough uncertainty to make the lie hurt. Rather than charge forward with his sword, Wynmore did something considerably more Wynmore‑like: he pulled out fifty feet of hempen rope and attempted to lasso himself.

Against all reasonable expectations, it worked.

Even shaken by the creature’s presence, Wynmore looped the rope around his drowned double and held on. The thing tried repeatedly to drag him toward the open hatch leading below deck, succeeding once before Wynmore planted his feet and refused to move another inch. After recovering some strength with Second Wind, he shook off the supernatural fear and prepared to fight back.

Wynmore produced the flask of oil he had purchased in Oakbarrow and hurled it over the creature. The oil splashed across its body. Wynmore reached for the weapon his old shipmates had never known in life.

“Cap… It’s time to clock in.”

The Employee of the Month ignited.

His first swing went wide, but Wynmore corrected the attack mid‑motion, slamming the flaming greatsword into his double. The oil erupted, fire racing across the imitation Wynmore while the borrowed face momentarily slipped away. Beneath it was something pallid and elongated, eyeless, with an impossibly wide mouth and black seawater leaking from its body.

It was the first unmistakable glimpse of the thing behind the curse.

The drowned copy continued trying to pull Wynmore toward the hatch, but this time he held firm. On his next strike, The Employee of the Month tore through the creature again, destroying the false Wynmore in an explosion of seawater. As its stolen face dissolved, a piece of Wynmore’s missing memory returned: the creature’s hands pressed against his temples during the original voyage, Wynmore screaming, “YOU’RE NOT ME!”, and the thing answering, “Then prove it.”

There was no time to dwell on the revelation. The bell continued sounding from below.

Wynmore, Harlowe, and Stenfold descended into the cargo deck, where the small iron bell Stenfold remembered had become something enormous. A church‑sized mass of black metal hung over the chamber, crusted with salt and covered in the broken‑circle symbol associated with the coffin. Although it still possessed no clapper, it swung and rang on its own.

Four members of the drowned crew stood guard: Pell, Merrick, Dunley, and Sykes.

Wynmore did not wait. He lowered his shoulder.

The drowned sailors braced themselves.

This was a mistake.

Wynmore crashed between Dunley and Sykes like a runaway wagon, knocking both from their feet and charging directly beneath the bell. He reached the objective before the crew could close ranks, healed himself again with Second Wind, and stood his ground as Merrick rushed in after him.

He had brought a heavy iron sledgehammer specifically for this moment. Unfortunately, the cursed bell proved far more durable than anticipated. His first two attempts produced spectacular clangs, dents, flying salt—and almost no meaningful progress.

Harlowe noticed something Wynmore had not.

The massive bell was suspended by an old, badly corroded chain.

“You don’t have to break the whole thing!”

Wynmore adjusted his plan.

He swung the hammer overhead and smashed a weakened section of chain, splitting one of its links nearly apart. His follow‑up strike missed the vulnerable spot, but the damage had already been done. The enormous bell began hanging crookedly over the chamber as its remaining support strained.

Merrick attempted to shove Wynmore directly beneath it. Wynmore locked his legs and refused to budge, surviving the effort with only a look suggesting people really needed to stop trying to move him against his will.

Then the chain snapped.

Wynmore dove aside at the last possible instant. Merrick and Sykes were not as fortunate. The cursed bell crashed onto the cargo deck with devastating force, crushing both drowned sailors beneath it. Even Wynmore winced at the sight, but the fall accomplished something more important: the giant outer shell split open.

Inside was the original bell.

Small. Black. Iron. Clapperless.

The true heart of the curse.

Wynmore retrieved his sledgehammer and raised it above his head.

“Here we go, boys.”

The first strike fractured the little bell. The second destroyed it.

The sound that followed was not a toll but a scream.

Pell and Dunley seized as black seawater drained from their bodies. Instead of violently disintegrating like the drowned attackers in Oakbarrow, they briefly became themselves again. Pell looked toward his captain and managed one final “Cap…” before both sailors collapsed into seawater, clothing, and seaweed.

They had not been destroyed.

They had been released.

Stenfold and Harlowe remained, but the curse had changed. For the first time since the adventure began, nobody could hear the bell.

From deeper within the wreck came another sound.

Knock.

Then another.

The coffin was waiting.

With the wreck destabilizing around them, Harlowe pointed toward a stairway leading to the lowest hold. Wynmore hurried after his companions until they reached a pair of warped cargo doors at the end of a short corridor. He glanced at the two men beside him.

“For Oakbarrow. And for my crew.”

Then he kicked the doors in.

The lowest hold was half‑submerged in black seawater. Broken crates drifted along the walls while the ship groaned under the collapse of whatever supernatural force had preserved it. In the center of the chamber sat the black wooden coffin, its iron bands and broken‑circle markings exactly as Stenfold had described.

The lid was already open. Inside sat Wynmore Wendall.

Unlike the drowned double above, this version appeared completely alive. It possessed Wynmore’s warm skin, black dreadlocks, heavy mustache, and powerful frame. When it stood, it repeated the words Wynmore had just spoken outside the door.

“For Oakbarrow. And for my crew.”

The creature told him once again that he still did not remember what had happened aboard the ship. This time, however, the missing pieces began returning. Wynmore remembered confronting the creature years earlier and rejecting its stolen face. He remembered Stenfold reaching toward him as the ship broke apart. And he finally saw something else: Harlowe throwing himself into the false Wynmore, buying his friend the few seconds necessary to survive.

The illusion fell away.

There was the pale, eyeless thing again, its long fingers dripping seawater and its mouth stretched grotesquely across its face.

“You survived,” it admitted. “You were never supposed to.”

The final battle began.

The creature attacked first, ripping into Wynmore with its claws while Stenfold fought beside him with Pell’s fallen cutlass. Harlowe, badly wounded and wisely unwilling to trade blows directly, repeatedly distracted the monster and created openings for Wynmore.

Wynmore dropped the sledgehammer with a clang and drew The Employee of the Month.

“Looks like we’re putting in overtime tonight.”

The flaming greatsword struck.

This time, the wounds did not heal. With the bell destroyed, the creature had lost the protection that allowed its flesh to reform. Flame burned along each injury as black seawater poured onto the deck, and for the first time the monster appeared genuinely frightened.

It told Wynmore he was supposed to have drowned.

“And you… were never supposed to exist at all!”

Wynmore continued swinging.

The fight was brutal. The creature’s claws carved through Wynmore’s armor and drove him steadily closer to collapse, while Stenfold attacked from one side and Harlowe created openings from the other. Wynmore used the last of his Second Wind, then relied entirely on the greatsword that had carried him through so many battles since his original shipwreck.

The creature tried one final temptation.

“I could have made you immortal.”

Nobody appeared particularly interested.

After Stenfold landed another blow, Harlowe stepped into the creature’s vision.

“Hey.”

It turned toward him.

Harlowe grinned.

“Wrong survivor.”

The distraction gave Wynmore the opening he needed.

He raised The Employee of the Month over his head, swung the flaming blade once, twice, and then brought it down in a violent slash. Fire tore from the creature’s shoulder to its hip while Wynmore’s own face flickered across the monster one final time.

“I know you,” it whispered.

Then the illusion split apart.

Golden flame erupted through the creature’s body until nothing remained but black seawater and ash. This time the water lay motionless on the deck.

The thing in the coffin was dead.

As the coffin collapsed from age, Wynmore’s stolen memories returned in full. He saw Harlowe protecting him. He remembered Stenfold reaching for him. He recalled falling into the sea as the vessel broke apart—and, most importantly, he remembered swimming. He remembered climbing onto wreckage. He remembered sunlight. He remembered reaching shore and coughing seawater onto the sand.

There had never been another Wynmore who escaped the ship. No copy had stolen his future. No impostor had lived his life.

Wynmore Wendall survived.

Behind him, Harlowe quietly said, “There you are.”

The drowned appearance faded from both Harlowe and Stenfold. They were not returning to life, but for a few final moments they looked like themselves again. Stenfold admitted that the creature had caused even the dead crew to question which Wynmore had escaped, but he now remembered the truth as clearly as Wynmore did.

The wreck began coming apart as a wall of black water opened to reveal the drowned road back to Oakbarrow. Stenfold told Wynmore to go. Neither he nor Harlowe followed. With the bell destroyed and the creature dead, the drowned crew no longer needed an escape. They could finally leave the wreck behind in another way.

Stenfold acknowledged his responsibility for bringing the coffin aboard and ringing the forbidden bell. He thanked Wynmore for returning to finish what had begun years earlier, while Harlowe offered a final piece of advice: if anyone ever warned Wynmore not to steal cursed funeral cargo from an ancient wreck, perhaps he should listen.

Even Stenfold laughed.

Then the two sailors began fading into pale mist.

“Good work, Wendall,” the captain said.

And they were gone.

Wynmore climbed the collapsing drowned road alone and burst through the surface of the millpond. Behind him, the impossible staircase vanished, leaving nothing but still, ordinary water beneath the night sky. He stood on the muddy shore and thought about Stenfold, Harlowe, and the crew who had died all those years ago. He winced at the memory of Merrick and Sykes disappearing beneath several hundred pounds of cursed iron, then raised a hand to his brow in a solemn salute.

“Farewell, my friends.”

Epilogue - Oakbarrow

The walk back to Oakbarrow was long and lonely. Wynmore used his Healer’s Kit to clean and bind the wounds left by the creature, then continued along the road while the events of the night settled heavily into his thoughts. By the time the town appeared ahead of him, he was exhausted, bloodied, and missing one perfectly serviceable sledgehammer—but he was alive.

People were still rebuilding the damage caused during the earlier attack on Oakbarrow. Wynmore nodded politely to the workers he passed and eventually reached the tavern where the entire ordeal had begun.

Inside, conversation faded as people noticed his return.

Wynmore barely paid attention.

His gaze went straight to his usual place at the bar.

The stool that had collapsed beneath him when Captain Stenfold first appeared was gone. Its replacement was a ridiculous piece of engineering constructed from thick hardwood, oversized legs, iron brackets, and enough reinforcement to support something considerably heavier than a tavern patron. A brass plaque had been attached to the front:

WYNMORE WENDALL EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH (PLEASE DO NOT BREAK THIS ONE)

The tavernkeeper explained that he had ordered it while Wynmore was away, figuring they should prepare for his triumphant return. Then his tone softened.

“You said you’d come back.”

Wynmore looked at his boss.

“Thanks, boss.”

Then his eyes traveled upward.

The tavern’s Employee of the Month wall had long been dominated by photograph after photograph of Wynmore’s coworker, Tiny. Tiny’s reign remained impressively documented, but something had changed. A new photograph had been added: Wynmore Wendall behind the bar in ordinary work clothes with a towel over one shoulder, looking intensely serious about some completely mundane tavern responsibility. Beneath the frame was a new engraved plate:

EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH WYNMORE WENDALL

Tiny had finally been dethroned.

The tavernkeeper admitted that Tiny had questioned whether saving Oakbarrow technically counted as job performance. From elsewhere inside the building came Tiny’s immediate protest that he had been perfectly fine with the decision. The boss had reached his own conclusion: Wynmore had saved the tavern enough times that it qualified as professional development.

For months, Wynmore had carried a Flame Tongue greatsword called The Employee of the Month. He had wielded it against blights, vampires, drowned sailors, and finally a creature that tried to steal his identity.

Now the title belonged to him, too.

Wynmore sat down on his heavily reinforced new barstool. He leaned back against the hard wooden wall, closed his eyes, and listened.

No bell. No drowned voices. No knocking from inside a coffin.

Just the ordinary sounds of Oakbarrow and the tavern he called home.

THE END

A-Town D&D Landing Page

Wynmore Wendall: Bells in the Deep - Part 2

"Wynmore Wendall: Bells in the Deep" 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, based on descriptions provided throughout the campaign. The story was driven by AI and shaped by decisions made by a human and his dice rolls along the way.

Previously:

• Part 1

Oakbarrow

The fight was over. Two of the drowned sailors had collapsed into heaps of seawater, seaweed, barnacles and ruined clothing. The young deckhand Harlowe remained only because Wynmore Wendall had held back, knocking his former crewmate unconscious instead of destroying him. Captain Stenfold stood amid the wreckage of the tavern with an explanation long overdue. One of the tavern's terrified patrons suggested that he provide that explanation elsewhere.

"Fair," Wynmore thought, brushing away splintered wood chips.

Wynmore extinguished the flames of The Employee of the Month, rolled his eyes at the captain, and hoisted Harlowe’s freezing, waterlogged body over one shoulder. Without a word, he gestured toward the ruined tavern door—after you, Cap.

Stenfold understood. The three men left the tavern and headed to the old stable behind it, now mostly used for storage after the attack on Oakbarrow. Wynmore deposited Harlowe onto a pile of hay and finally received the truth about what had happened aboard his old ship—or at least as much truth as Stenfold had managed to piece together.

The strange wreckage Stenfold had found before the shipwreck had not belonged to a merchant vessel or warship. It had been a funeral vessel. Someone, long ago, had taken a body out to sea to ensure that whatever was inside it could never return. The little wooden structure found among the wreckage had not been a shrine at all, but a warning. Inside it lay the small black iron bell Stenfold had already described—a bell with no clapper because it was never meant to ring.

But the bell wasn’t the only thing Stenfold had salvaged. Beneath the wreckage, chained down as though someone had been desperate to keep it there, was a black wooden coffin reinforced with iron bands. Carved repeatedly into its underside was a symbol: a circle broken at the bottom, with three lines descending from it like dripping water. Stenfold didn’t know its meaning, nor the name of the creature imprisoned inside. He only knew what it could do.

When released, the creature chose someone. It could take that person’s face, voice and memories. Then it began showing the living images of the dead—or perhaps versions of themselves as they would appear after death. On Stenfold’s ship, it chose Wynmore Wendall.

Wynmore had been among the first to encounter it directly. Before the storm, he had heard knocking from the ship’s hold and gone below to investigate, with Harlowe following behind. They found the coffin already open. Inside was a drowned corpse. Then the corpse opened its eyes—and became Wynmore. Wynmore remembered none of this. Stenfold remembered him returning to the deck pale and shaken, insisting the coffin be thrown overboard. Stenfold refused, still convinced his crew had surrendered to superstition.

Determined to prove the bell was nothing more than an object, Stenfold picked it up and rang it.

Every sailor aboard heard something. Not simply the bell—their own names, called from beneath the ship. The storm followed. The crew began seeing drowned versions of themselves wandering the deck. Wynmore encountered his own double again, and—consistent with the man he would later become—punched it in the face. The thing retaliated by seizing Wynmore by the head. Wynmore screamed, and whatever happened in that moment tore a hole through his memory. Everything connected to the coffin vanished from his recollection.

Stenfold later found Wynmore unconscious near a broken section of railing. Soon afterward, the ship tore apart and everyone was thrown into the sea. Everyone aboard died—except Wynmore. When Stenfold and the others awakened aboard the wreck on the ocean floor, Wynmore was the only sailor missing.

Stenfold had developed a theory. The creature had been attempting to take something from Wynmore—perhaps his memories, perhaps part of his identity, perhaps something more—but the destruction of the ship interrupted the process. Wynmore escaped before the curse could finish whatever it had begun. That was why the others remained bound to the drowned wreck, and why Wynmore remained bound to the thing inside the coffin. The unfinished connection was also why it wanted him back.

Wynmore considered the situation, then asked the question that mattered: “Cap… what would happen if I confronted that thing… and destroyed it?”

Stenfold believed he knew. The crew had fought the creature before. They had damaged the coffin. They had attacked the thing inside. They had even apparently managed to destroy it once. It always returned—because the bell remained intact. Stenfold had come to believe the three central components of the curse were linked: the bell, the creature inside the coffin, and Wynmore himself. The bell called and bound the drowned. The coffin housed the creature. Wynmore represented the unfinished connection. If the bell could be destroyed first, Stenfold believed the creature could finally be killed permanently. And if the creature died, the drowned crew might finally be allowed to die as well—properly.

What would happen to Wynmore was less certain. Destroying the creature might sever the connection harmlessly. It might even restore the memories taken from him. Or the creature might decide that if it could no longer possess the ship and its crew, all it really needed was Wynmore.

Wynmore reduced the plan to its essentials: destroy the bell, kill the creature, keep himself alive. It was a start.

Before leaving, Wynmore searched the stable for anything useful. Despite his famously unimpressive investigative instincts, he uncovered exactly the sort of equipment the situation demanded: a heavy iron sledgehammer, fifty feet of hempen rope, and a hooded lantern with a flask of oil. The hammer, in particular, seemed promising for destroying a black iron bell.

One considerable logistical issue remained: the ship had sunk at sea, and Oakbarrow was nowhere near it. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the curse had already solved that problem. Stenfold explained that the wreck was no longer reachable only through ordinary geography. Since the bell had begun ringing again, it had created what he called a drowned road, a supernatural passage connecting the wreck to Wynmore. Stenfold himself had escaped through it. The nearest entrance was an old millpond roughly an hour outside Oakbarrow. When the bell rang, sufficiently still bodies of water touched by the curse could become gateways. Stenfold had stepped from the wreck into the drowned road and emerged from that very pond. The passage would likely remain open until sometime after midnight.

They had a route—and a deadline.

There was still the matter of Harlowe. Wynmore attempted the most obvious solution. He grabbed the unconscious sailor by the lapels. “Harlowe.” Shake. “Harlowe!” Shake. Nothing. Stenfold asked whether he was finished. Wynmore was not. He slapped Harlowe directly across his undead, shipwrecked face. Remarkably, after Wynmore followed his unconventional medical technique with an actual successful attempt at first aid, Harlowe woke up.

His first realization was that Wynmore had knocked him unconscious. Stenfold reminded him that he had also attempted to drag Wynmore back to the bottom of the sea. Harlowe conceded the point. More importantly, something had changed. For the first time since awakening beneath the ocean, Harlowe could no longer hear the bell. Whatever effect The Employee of the Month had produced when Wynmore struck him had temporarily loosened the curse’s grip. Harlowe was himself again—and willing to help.

Wynmore apologized for the slap in characteristically Wynmore fashion: “First of all, sorry for slapping you. Just felt like the right thing to do—and it worked, so…” Then he explained the plan. They intended to return to the wreck and end the nightmare. Could Harlowe lead them there? Yes. Harlowe explained that the drowned road had a kind of supernatural current. Once inside, he could feel the direction of the bell. The passage itself would not resemble an ordinary road; it could contain pieces of flooded forest, stretches of seabed, fragments of the wreck itself, even doors standing alone beneath impossible water. But the bell would always be ahead. Follow its ringing, and they would eventually reach the ship. Ignore it, and they might never come out.

Harlowe also confirmed another crucial fact: fire hurt the curse. Wynmore’s flaming sword had not merely injured Harlowe’s body; he had felt it damage the supernatural force controlling him. Whatever lived inside the coffin hated flame. Suddenly, Wynmore’s newly discovered oil and lantern seemed considerably more useful. Harlowe also warned Wynmore not to trust everything he saw aboard the wreck—especially anything wearing Wynmore’s own face.

There remained a practical question: how exactly was Wynmore supposed to use a flaming sword on an underwater ship? The answer was yet another violation of sensible geography. The wreck existed underwater, but the curse maintained much of the ship inside a supernatural environment where people could breathe and fire could burn. Water moved through it unnaturally—flooding some passages, hanging where it should fall, even traveling up walls—but most of the wreck was not truly submerged in the conventional sense. The Employee of the Month would work. And so would fire.

Before departing, Wynmore decided the expedition needed supplies and healing. The three men headed for Oakbarrow’s general store. The shopkeeper took one look at Wynmore accompanied by two men who appeared to have been dead for several years and immediately said, “No.” Wynmore had not yet asked for anything. Ultimately, however, his status as one of Oakbarrow’s heroes proved useful. The shopkeeper still owed him favors and reluctantly supplied two Potions of Healing and a Healer’s Kit.

Wynmore drank one potion immediately. It healed precisely four hit points. Wynmore blinked, inspected the bottle, then stared at the shopkeeper with narrowed eyes. The shopkeeper defensively pointed out that Wynmore was built like a siege engine and perhaps the potion simply had more work to do. Harlowe fared better; his potion restored enough strength that he could walk without looking as though the next stiff breeze might finish what the ocean had started.

Then Wynmore decided the moment called for something else—a speech. He raised one boot onto a nearby chair, cleared his throat, and addressed what he described as "the people of Oakbarrow," despite the fact that his immediate audience consisted mostly of a shopkeeper and two drowned sailors.

Wynmore proclaimed his previous victories against the vine blights, needle blights and vampiric threat that had terrorized the town. He invoked his legendary weapon, The Employee of the Month. He vowed to march alongside the “apparently-not-dead men” beside him toward the millpond, the cursed shipwreck and whatever awaited them beyond.

He raised one finger toward the heavens. “I, Wynmore Wendall, dedicated tavern worker, three-time champion of the underground fighting circuit…"

He briefly reconsidered whether that should have been public information, then pressed onward. "I shall protect this town, if it’s the last thing I do!” Wynmore thumped his chest and delivered his triumphant promise: “I SHALL RETURN!”

Silence followed.

Someone outside recognized that Wynmore was apparently “giving another speech.” Harlowe applauded. Stenfold revealed that Wynmore had never done this during their days aboard ship. The shopkeeper mostly worried about the chair. But when Wynmore finally turned to leave, the humor faded. The shopkeeper called after him.

“Wendall.”

Wynmore stopped.

“Come back.”

Wynmore nodded. Then he, Stenfold and Harlowe left Oakbarrow.

The Roads Beyond Oakbarrow

They traveled for roughly an hour as daylight faded. The deeper they moved into the countryside, the colder and damper the air became. Finally, the trees opened around an abandoned mill. Below it lay the millpond—perfectly still, perfectly black, reflecting none of the evening sky.

Then the bell rang.

GONNNNNNG.

Not somewhere in the distance—from beneath the pond. Ripples spread across the surface, and for a moment Wynmore could see through the black water. A wooden staircase descended impossibly beneath the pond. Far below, lanterns glowed in blue‑black darkness. The drowned road.

Somewhere on the other side waited the wreck of Wynmore’s old ship. The bell. The coffin. The creature that had stolen part of Wynmore’s memory. And perhaps the answer to why Wynmore Wendall had been the only man aboard who survived.

Harlowe stepped toward the water and warned Wynmore to stay close. And if someone called his name once they entered the drowned road, he should make certain he could see who was saying it before answering.

Wynmore looked into the darkness. There was only one direction left to go: onward.

And there, at the edge of the black millpond with the drowned road open beneath them. Wynmore a plan.

Destroy the bell. Kill the creature in the coffin. Keep himself alive.

But were any of those things actually possible?

To be concluded...

Part 3

A-Town D&D Landing Page

Wynmore Wendall: Bells in the Deep - Part 1

"Wynmore Wendall: Bells in the Deep" 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, based on descriptions provided throughout the campaign. The story was driven by AI and shaped by decisions made by a human and his dice rolls along the way.

Oakbarrow Tavern

For the first time in what felt like forever, Wynmore Wendall was back at work. Not adventuring. Not fighting corrupted creatures or saving towns from blighted nature. Not wielding a magical sword against some world-ending horror.

Working.

The tavern still carried scars from his last adventure. Upstairs, half of his bedroom wall remained obliterated from the attack on the town, a heavy canvas stretched across the gap where stone and timber had once stood. Repairs could wait. Barrels needed moving, deliveries unloading, tables clearing, customers serving.

On the surviving wall hung The Employee of the Month—Wynmore’s Flame Tongue greatsword. Cold. Quiet. Retired. Wynmore had gone back to punching the clock.

One perfectly ordinary day, the tavern door opened.

A man stepped inside, dripping wet despite the clear weather. Seaweed clung to his tattered clothing. Gray skin stretched tight across an almost skeletal frame, and each step left a black puddle of seawater on the wooden floor.

Wynmore stared. He knew that face. He had served under that face aboard a ship he believed had vanished beneath the waves with every soul aboard.

The figure looked directly at him. “Wendall.”

Wynmore blinked—and laughed. Hard. Surely this was a waking nightmare, some trick of exhaustion, some lingering damage from everything he had survived.

The drowned man simply watched. “You used to do that,” he said at last. “When something frightened you badly enough, you’d laugh first.”

The laughter faltered. The stranger reached inside his ruined coat and set a small, corroded brass plate on the nearest table. It had once hung on the captain’s cabin door.

“I woke beneath the water, Wendall,” the figure said. “And the ship was still there.” He paused. “So were the others.”

Wynmore noticed the seawater around the man’s boots wasn’t soaking into the floorboards. It was freezing them.

“I don’t have long,” the drowned captain said. “You can laugh after. Right now, I need you to listen.”

An awkward silence followed. Wynmore shifted his weight—and his chair collapsed beneath him. The massive fighter crashed to the floor in a heap of splintered wood and wounded dignity.

The drowned man stared down at him. “You got bigger.”

That was enough. Wynmore grabbed a broken chair leg and swung from the floor.

The improvised club connected hard, striking the captain in the ribs with a wet, hollow thud and sending him staggering into a table. Black seawater spilled from his mouth.

“You always were an idiot, Wendall,” the captain growled. But he didn’t retaliate. Instead, he warned Wynmore that the shipwreck had not been caused by the storm. Something had come aboard first.

Wynmore scrambled upright and tried to grapple the thing wearing his captain’s face, but the drowned man slipped free.

Every mug in the tavern rippled. Somewhere impossibly far inland, the sound of a ship’s bell rolled across the town.

GONNNNG.

The captain’s expression changed. “Too late.”

He rushed to the tavern door and barred it. Something struck the other side. Three slow knocks followed.

“Cap’n?” The voice belonged to a dead man—a young deckhand named Harlowe.

Wynmore remembered him. The talkative watches. The moment he saw Harlowe swept overboard during the wreck.

The captain warned Wynmore not to answer. The voice outside shifted tactics.

“Wynmore, you left us!”

The captain snapped that Wynmore had not abandoned anyone. He had survived.

Wynmore looked at the drowned figure in his tavern and finally allowed himself to believe the impossible.

“Cap? … Captain Stenfold?”

“Aye.”

Captain Stenfold had returned—and he had a story to tell.

Three days before the fatal storm, Stenfold’s crew had discovered strange wreckage floating far from any land: ancient timber, torn sailcloth, and a small carved shrine.

Inside the shrine was a black iron bell with no clapper. The sailors wanted nothing to do with it. Old maritime superstition warned against taking strange things from wrecks, especially those the sea had not willingly surrendered.

Stenfold ignored them and brought the bell aboard.

That night, it rang.

Crew members began hearing the voices of dead loved ones. Seawater appeared on deck during calm weather. Footsteps crossed places no one had walked.

Eventually, one sailor saw something worse: himself. Soaked. Dead. Watching from the far side of the deck.

The crew demanded Stenfold throw the bell overboard. Determined to prove they were letting superstition overwhelm reason, the captain picked it up himself.

He rang it.

The storm arrived before sunrise. Everyone aboard died. Everyone… except Wynmore Wendall.

Stenfold claimed he later awakened inside his cabin on the seabed. The broken ship lay around him in darkness, and the dead crew walked its corridors. Sometimes they seemed to be themselves.

Sometimes something else seemed to be wearing them.

They remained trapped beneath the water for years. Wynmore was the only member of the crew who was missing.

Three nights earlier, the bell had begun ringing again. The door to Stenfold’s cabin opened, and somehow the captain escaped.

Now the thing connected to the wreck appeared to be searching for the one survivor it never reclaimed: Wynmore.

Wet footsteps approached the tavern from several directions.

Wynmore knew what came next. He looked toward the stairs.

“Well, Cap…” He ran.

Upstairs, among the scars left by his previous adventure, Wynmore reached the intact wall of his bedroom and wrapped a hand around the hilt of The Employee of the Month.

Downstairs, the tavern door shattered. The drowned crew had arrived. Wynmore raced back toward the fight.

Harlowe stood among three drowned sailors inside the tavern, gray-skinned and rotting, barnacles growing from exposed bone. Captain Stenfold had positioned himself between them and the terrified patrons.

Wynmore started with javelins. The first slammed into one drowned sailor and staggered him. The second flew nearly perfect—Wynmore never missed with the javelin—driving through another sailor and smashing him backward into the broken doorway.

He moved between the drowned crew and the patrons.

Both hands closed around his sword. His brow furrowed.

Quietly, almost reverently, Wynmore Wendall spoke the words that once meant it was time to become something more than an ordinary employee.

“It’s time to clock in.”

The Employee of the Month erupted in flame.

Harlowe stared at the blazing weapon. “What in the hells is that?”

The fight began in earnest. Rusted weapons carrying unnatural cold slashed into Wynmore. He answered with fire and steel. One sailor fell, collapsing into soaked clothing, seaweed, barnacles, and a pool of black seawater.

Wynmore turned on the second. Another swing. Another burst of fire. Then another. The second drowned sailor collapsed like the first.

Only Harlowe remained. He looked at the two empty places where his fellow crewmen had been destroyed. “You’ve changed.”

Wynmore didn’t strike immediately. “What is going on here?”

For a moment, Harlowe’s personality broke through whatever force controlled him.

He told Wynmore the storm had not been the beginning. The bell had not been the worst thing Stenfold brought aboard. Something else had been tangled among the wreckage—a coffin. Black wood, iron bands, no name.

Stenfold had brought that aboard as well.

According to Harlowe, Wynmore himself had gone into the ship’s hold after knocking began coming from inside it. Harlowe followed him. The coffin was open. Something was inside.

“At first it looked drowned,” Harlowe said. Then it looked at Wynmore. And took Wynmore’s face.

Wynmore had apparently stood in the hold of that doomed ship and seen his own drowned corpse lying inside a mysterious coffin. He remembered none of it.

Whatever had been controlling Harlowe reclaimed him.

“Come home, Wynmore.” Harlowe tried to seize him.

Wynmore planted his feet and refused to be moved.

“Right,” Harlowe muttered. “Forgot about that.”

The fight continued, but Wynmore no longer wanted to destroy his former crewmate. He wanted answers.

He surged forward and struck Harlowe twice with The Employee of the Month, deliberately controlling his blows.

Harlowe absorbed the first devastating hit and somehow remained standing.

For one moment, his real voice returned.

“Again.” A plea.

Wynmore obliged. The second blow dropped him. Unlike the other drowned sailors, Harlowe did not dissolve. He remained on the tavern floor, unconscious, seawater trickling from his mouth.

Whatever he had become, Wynmore had managed to keep him alive—or at least intact. The battle was over.

The tavern lay devastated. Broken tables. A destroyed front door. Seawater across the floorboards. Wynmore’s javelins scattered among piles of seaweed and the remnants of drowned sailors.

Harlowe lay unconscious at his feet. Captain Stenfold stood nearby. And now Wynmore knew his old captain had withheld something enormous.

The bell had not been the only object taken from the wreckage. There had been a coffin. Something had been inside it—something that looked like Wynmore.

Stenfold slowly looked at the flaming greatsword in Wynmore’s hands.

“Before you start swinging that thing at me…” He swallowed. “…I can explain.”

To be continued...

Part 2

A-Town D&D Landing Page

FanX Flashback - Lita Panel Highlights [FanX 2025]

WWE Hall of Famer Lita looked back on a career built by taking chances during her FanX 2025 appearance, from discovering professional wrestling as the perfect mix of athletics and rock ’n’ roll to main-eventing “Raw” with Trish Stratus and returning years later to win championship gold with Becky Lynch. She also reflected on the responsibility she felt to make opportunities count for the women who followed her, the growing representation in today’s wrestling landscape and a few current stars she wouldn’t mind stepping into the ring with.

I also had the chance to meet Lita for a few minutes during the convention and chat with her briefly, and she could not have been nicer - personable, gracious and remarkably humble for someone with such an accomplished career.

Here are a few of the highlights from her panel:

On how much notice she had before unexpectedly wrestling on “Raw” and winning the WWE Women’s Tag Team Championship with Becky Lynch in 2023:

Lita: Let’s just say we were on the East Coast, right? So live at 8? Yeah, okay.

I don’t know if we were, but I’d say for sure the doors were open when I was told that day - maybe 5, 5:30, something like that.

The plan was to come back for WrestleMania, but not to have a match before WrestleMania. So I had set up my training to get ready and still give myself a month of training, but that had not started before that day.

So my first training for my WrestleMania match was winning the tag titles that day.

Much like the very first Royal Rumble, you got to see the first time I touched the ring after a large gap.

Not ideal, but you just kind of cross your fingers and hold your breath and go for it.

I made a career out of it, so why should it change now?

On how she first decided to become a professional wrestler:

Lita: My origin story is not very orthodox. I do not recommend it.

When people ask me how I got into wrestling because they would like to wrestle, my answer is: Google a wrestling school near you. That is going to serve you much better.

But my origin story was, I was playing in bands as well as competing up and down the East Coast in judo. Both were just passions of mine, and both were taking up my free time.

I did not grow up with wrestling, but when I happened upon it, immediately I was like, “Wow, this is magical.” It’s like being a rock star and an athlete in one gig.

So I thought I would combine the two - combine my judo competition with playing in bands - and try to figure that out. And how little I knew about it. We did not have the internet. You couldn’t just ask Siri or Alexa or Jeeves. Even Jeeves wasn’t around yet.

It was almost like when you’re in elementary school and you have career day and you’re like, “These are the career options you can have.” It was like I had just discovered a new career.

And as an adult - I’m in my early 20s here - people would be like, “How’s it going?”

I’m like, “Great. Do you know what? I’m going to be a professional wrestler.”

And I’m saying it like Mighty Molly, like, you know, “All right, whatever.”

So, yeah, it was basically starting from a foundation of zero.

I will say the rock-star background and the judo did kind of come into benefit, but I had zero background other than that as far as how to infiltrate the - at least then - very secret society of professional wrestling. I did all right.

On main-eventing “Raw” with Trish Stratus in 2004 and feeling responsible for making the opportunity count:

Lita: Steph [McMahon] and I had the first main event when I won the first title, but they don’t call it that.

The reason they call Trish and I the first main event is because [the Stephanie match] had all the bells and whistles. The Rock was our special guest referee, Hunter [Paul "Triple H" Levesque] was down there, Kurt Angle was down there, the Hardy Boys were down there. There was a lot going on.

Whereas Trish and I, it was just Trish, just Lita, nothing else, closing out the show.

Moderator: So how was it when creative came to you and was like, “We have something for you. You’re going on last”? Tell me about that experience, what it meant to you then and maybe what it means to you now.

Lita: If you’ve been a fan of WWE for any length of time, you know things change at the very last minute all the time.

I had already conditioned myself to never think something was happening or get excited about something until it was in your hands.

So even when they told us, “You’re closing out the show,” we’re like, “Yeah, cool. The match will get cut. It’ll get moved. They’re going to do something else.”

The show gets rewritten five times a day, sometimes from scratch. That was not out of the ordinary.

So we were cautiously optimistic that it might be a cool night at work, but not really able to be excited.

[She explains that “Raw” was two hours at the time, with important matches usually positioned to open the show, bridge the two hours or close the night.]

Once we got through the first hour, I was like, “I don’t think there’s anywhere else they can put us. There’s no other match left on the card that they’re going to want to close the show with. I think we’re getting this.”

So it was exciting, but throughout the day I almost felt this duty to play it cool for my own mental capacity, but also... this has got to be solid.

It has to be solid so that someone else can get the main event later.

Throughout our careers, we had always kind of pushed it a little bit. We’d be like, “Just let us - we’ll be off the ladder. It’s fine.” And they’re like, “Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine.”

I felt like that’s kind of how we kept getting our opportunities - sneaking them.

So I did feel a duty. This has got to be solid so that someone else can get the main event later.

And it wasn’t until afterward, coming back through the curtain, that the guys from the locker room were there clapping for us in gorilla position.

That was when I was even remotely like, “Oh wow, we did a thing.”

Even beyond that, they were cutting our time mid-match. So to be able to navigate the production end of things as well, and give them faith that we could handle ourselves out there, was important. It was nice.

On current WWE wrestlers she would be interested in working with:

Lita: Oh, it keeps being more each time I don’t watch for this long, and I’m like, “Oh man, there’s more.”

I mean, come on, Giulia would be the obvious choice, number one, because she does have a modern-day similar story.

First of all, [I was] very inspired by Rey Mysterio, who is, if I had to single out one person that I was attached to, Rey Mysterio.

And so all these years later, for him still to be doing that and having that way to connect with the fans on such a deeper level...

And then, obviously, coming in and cutting your teeth the hard way.

But gosh, I could just start telling you a list of the people that are in the locker room right now.

I loved working with IYO when we did me, Becky and Trish versus Damage CTRL, and I would love to interact with her more, too.

Moderator: AJ [Lee] just came back.

Lita: Yes, yes. Definitely some crossover there with Trish.

On the growth of representation in women’s wrestling and how it can inspire future wrestlers:

Lita: I just knew what I wanted, and I couldn’t even really visualize it because it didn’t exist.

And that was okay to me. It was like, “I just want to do this thing.”

What I love about now is the representation across the board is so much richer, where so many more different types of people can find inspiration in different faces or different stories.

Yes, the time they’re getting on TV. Yes, the matches they’re getting to do. Yes, showcasing their athletic ability.

But the representation - the diversification of what it looks like to become a female athlete, or specifically a professional wrestler - I love that, because I didn’t see that.

And while I didn’t see that as a barrier, I just think it makes a clearer path for people to go after something.

On choosing four women for a wrestling “Mount Rushmore”:

Lita: It’s really difficult.

Normally when I’m with Trish, we just go ahead and both put ourselves on there, so then we take out two spots.

It feels a little weirder when I’m by myself to be like, “Well, so me and Trish.”

But we’ll just stick with it: I’d say me, Trish, Chyna and Charlotte [Flair].

FanX Flashback - Home Improvement Reunion Panel Highlights [FanX 2025]

As a product of the late '80s and '90s, the "Home Improvement" reunion panel at FanX 2025 was a blast. It reunited cast regulars Richard Karn, Patricia Richardson and Debbe Dunning for an hour of reminiscing, nostalgia, and family-friendly laughs. Here are some of the quick highlights:

On what “Home Improvement” meant to her career and becoming part of the cast:

Debbe Dunning: I was working on all sorts of commercials and little bits of shows here and there. When I came in the first year, I came in as Kiki Van Fursterwallenscheinlaw. Remember that?

I was blessed enough to be asked back after Pamela decided to go, and I realized I had a family. I had a place where people tuned in.

It’s a crazy thing when you work so hard and all of a sudden you’re like, now you have a name. You’ve actually made a name for yourself doing everything that you love.

I loved showing up. I loved the fact that my dressing room became a nursery when I had a kid. This show was so good for me.

We had antics. We were a family. When you work with somebody year after year, five days a week, you become like family. Sometimes we’d argue. Sometimes we’d be a little pissy. But at the end of the day, we all really, really loved our job.

I feel like you guys come to our table and say, “This was one of the best parts of our childhood, because this is when our families would meet at dinner on a Tuesday or Wednesday night.” It really left an imprint.

So I feel very blessed to have been part of this show. And thank you guys for not only showing up today, but for all your nice comments. I was here two years ago and I was like, “Oh, I’m definitely coming back.”

You guys are just amazing.

On joining “Home Improvement” at the last minute and when she realized the show could become a hit:

Patricia Richardson: I was a last-minute replacement for Frances Fisher, who’s a friend of mine now and a wonderful actress.

[Richardson explains that Fisher’s performance simply wasn’t the tone the producers ultimately wanted for Jill Taylor.]

It wasn’t that she was bad. It was that, the way the show is written, if you play the wife as a victim, they were worried because [Tim’s character] was seeming abusive.

I’d already been signed with Disney for something that was supposed to happen in September. I had just given birth to twins three months before this. I was not interested in working then.

But they called me on a Wednesday and said, “We want you to start tomorrow. You’ll rehearse Thursday and Friday, maybe Saturday. Monday we’ll do cameras. Tuesday we shoot the show.”

I hadn’t worked in a year because I was pregnant, in bed, and then had two kids with colic.

Richard Karn: Tell them the show that you were supposed to do.

Richardson: The show I was supposed to do, ironically, was called “Home Movies,” and it was by the people who wrote “The Wonder Years.”

It was supposed to be a dramedy about a young husband and wife with a very young child, which was really what I was interested in doing. I’d already done three sitcoms that failed.

[Richardson explains that she and her then-husband, actor Ray Baker, had been through enough pilots to know that big studio-audience reactions did not guarantee a pickup.]

So when we did the pilot, the laughs were like -

Richard Karn: Eleven seconds. Thirteen seconds.

Richardson: They didn’t know who we were. They hadn’t seen the show yet, so they were laughing in the moment without having any context.

I’m sitting there waiting through these laughs - waiting, waiting, waiting - and thinking, “God, we have done so many pilots.” I knew they always stack the audience with your friends, so I thought the reason we were getting these ridiculous laughs was because it was full of friends.

I was like, “These people are nuts.” I almost wanted to go, “Calm down, calm down. We’re trying to do a show.”

When it was over, I went upstairs and my husband was there. I still thought I would do the show, it would fail, and I could go home and be with my babies.

There had been other shows with a stand-up and a family that had bombed, so I just thought, whatever.

But the script was good.

And even when something is going really well, that’s not a guarantee. In Hollywood, you can do a brilliant sitcom and not get picked up.

Then Ray said, “Well, welcome to the show you’re going to be doing for the next seven years.”

And I was like, “What? That’s not my plan.”

And he said, “It is so good.”

I was stunned. I just didn’t know.

[Richardson says her confidence grew when ABC gave “Home Improvement” a strong time slot next to “Roseanne.”]

And we were up against “Seinfeld.”

And we won. We beat “Seinfeld.”

However, they moved “Seinfeld” to Thursday night, and that became Must See TV. And it became, well, “‘Seinfeld’ is the smart show, and ‘Home Improvement’ is the show for children and their parents.”

Which is a good thing, because now we are really rewatching it, and it is such a safe show. It’s a show that you don’t have to worry about. And it’s also giving a really great lesson.

I feel like you guys have learned something from it and been affected in some way by it, and mostly it’s all been positive.

So when you ask when I knew it was going to be a hit... I felt like it was a hit when I started. I really did.

We were always People’s Choice. Every time we went to an awards thing, we won.

And I really didn’t watch it because I was working so hard. You work a full week, and then coming home and actually sitting there watching the show that you’re on... we would just tape it.

We’d be working when it aired.

FanX Flashback - Sean Astin Panel Highlights [FanX 2025]

Our next FanX Flashback takes us to the Grand Ballroom panel featuring Sean Astin at FanX 2025. Astin covered a lot of ground during his appearance, from the possibility of a long-awaited “Goonies” sequel to his time on “Stranger Things” and his newly expanded role in public service. Along the way, he reflected on joining beloved franchises, what Bob Newby meant to Joyce Byers, why he once imagined becoming a congressman and the simple rule he tries to follow when stepping into an already-successful project: “Don’t suck.”

Here are a few of the highlights:

On whether “The Goonies 2” is actually happening and whether the original cast could return:
Sean Astin: No, he was in Italy at the film festival and said that he finished the draft. I know what you know, but I have a sense of confidence that it’s actually happening. Fans seem to want it. I know it’s been years.

Moderator: Maybe they’ll want the original cast to be in it as well. I don’t know. I mean, would you like to get the band back together in some form?

Astin: I mean, it’s just lived in all of our imagination for so long, probably because of the conventions, that this is what people want. It’s what they want. And we’ve all had different ideas for it. Corey Feldman and I wrote a treatment for it, and we pitched that treatment, and they’re like, “Oh, no, I’m not gonna do that.” So, you know, it’ll be weird if we’re not…

Moderator: Yeah.

Astin: So it’s gotta be good.

On whether he could eventually run for political office after becoming SAG-AFTRA president:
Astin: So before I put my name forward to be the SAG president - SAG president - I talked to my wife and kids. And I think this role is about as much as I’m gonna convince them is okay. I think at this point my wife is like, “We have these dogs, there’s a rocking chair somewhere, we’re gonna, you know, we get to just relax and have each other and time.” So who knows what the future holds in store? I always hate it when politicians who are obviously about to do something are like, “I really don’t know.” It’s like, “Yeah, you do. We already saw the bumper stickers on the back of your car,” right? Whatever. But I don’t know. I always thought I’d be a congressman or something.

Moderator: But this role of union leader –

Astin: Well, yeah. I love “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” anything Frank Capra ever did, [several unclear film references/titles], “To Kill a Mockingbird.” As a performer, you aspire to this great civic virtue. That’s the thing: What can you do to contribute to the lives of the people around you?

And because I’m an actor who’s enjoyed more than my fair share of good fortune working and earning, you might start to buy the press. You might start to believe that you can actually do all that.

So, I have no idea. But what I look for in people who are doing that, I want to see people who are passionate. I want to see people who are honest, but not held to some ridiculous cartoon standard.

And I want to see people who have real, genuine curiosity and passion for what it is that they’re going to be doing, you know, and, like, that. And as much as you go for good leaders, we need to be good people. Like, leaders require good people.

On playing Bob Newby in “Stranger Things” and joining franchises that were already massive:
Astin: I learned about “Stranger Things” coming to conventions. People would come up to me, “Have you seen Stranger Things?” I’m like, “What is that?” They’re like, “No, no, no, it’s Goonies. It’s Goonies. It’s Goonies.” I’m like, “It’s Goonies? Goonies didn’t have big monsters.” It looked a little scarier, but they’re riding bikes, there’s RadioShack, it’s the ’80s.

To me, Bob’s function in the story was to give Joyce and the audience a moment to breathe, because you’d spent an entire season with her in absolute terror with the loss of her son. It was kind of unrelenting cruelty to that character.

So they gave her a few episodes where she could have somebody who was there and cared about her, and cared about her kids. His whole thing was just like, “Bring some puzzles. I want you to be happy.” Boy, that would be pretty great if some of us knew how to do that - just make someone else happy.

[Astin said he appreciated joining a show that had already become a major cultural phenomenon, comparing the experience to entering other established worlds such as “The Color of Magic” and “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”]

The feeling is, number one, you want to make sure you do your job and don’t suck, right? That’s the number one thing: don’t suck. And contribute. Find some way to contribute to what this thing is that’s being created.

I actually auditioned for a different character. I auditioned for the reporter, the guy who was investigating [Barb]. But then they said, “Can you come back and read for this other guy, Bob?” I was super appreciative that they had accomplished this amazing thing, and I was there to basically help it keep going.

I didn’t know, when I got “Lord of the Rings,” anything about the Tolkien lore and mythology and how well-known that story was around the world, in every language, for generations. I knew it intellectually, but I didn’t feel it like that.

So “Stranger Things,” yeah, it was pretty great to just be able to walk in and feel like I get to be with all these people who are doing this. The Duffer Brothers, the world they created...

I didn’t get to work with Millie. I was bummed out. In the eighth episode, they sent her to Chicago for some reason to get in, like, gang fights in Chicago. (The audience laughs.) I don’t know what happened in that episode.

But she wasn’t there, so I didn’t get to interact with her. That was the only disappointment I had, because I just thought that what they had all created with Eleven was just next level. But I got to hang with my peeps, and it was fun.

FanX Flashback - Zachary Levi Panel Highlights [FanX 2025]

With FanX Salt Lake Comic Convention right around the corner, it's time for that time-honored tradition of scrambling to transcribe a ton of audio clips from last year's convention. But, thankfully, with the recent realization that technology is amazing and we no longer have to manually re-listen to these clips, try to determine what the celebrity is saying over the audience noise, and type it out word-by-word, this process just got significantly easier and faster!

So hey. Zachary Levi has been an awesome guest for several FanX conventions. His panels are always must-see, and he gives some truly thought-provoking and uplifting responses to the fans' questions - and he's coming back in a couple weeks! Can't wait! Looking forward to it.

With no further ado, here are some highlights from his panel in 2025, in which he discussed his greatest hits, hinted at potential projects in the future, and shared some very insightful thoughts about human emotions. Enjoy!

On what he would do if he had a magic purple crayon (like his movie “Harold and the Purple Crayon”) in real life:

I know this is a little lofty for the kids, although drawing a cool jet ski wouldn’t be bad. But I think that we are overtaken with consumption, we are overtaken with materialism, we all are overtaken with consumerism. We all are being programmed to, like, “Oh, I need this thing, I need that thing, and I need the new phone and I need the new bag, and I need whatever all that stuff is.” And the reality is, guys, we don’t need almost any of that stuff. What we need is community - that’s a huge thing. By the way, that’s one of the things I love about conventions: so much wonderful community at conventions, right? So many people that are really passionate about so many things, and you get to come together about that - you get to come together with your love for that. So, genuinely, I would be drawing peace on Earth. I would be drawing good will toward men. Whatever that looks like, that’s what I would be drawing.

On whether the “Chuck” movie could ever reasonably happen:

That’s a great question. And it’s a question that I would love to answer with a “Chuck” movie one day. (The audience cheers loudly.) Listen, listen. So at some point, I might - I might - need everybody in this room, or… Actually, that’s a good question. Who here is a “Chuck” fan? (The audience cheers loudly.) That’s a good answer. So, I am actively - and have actively - been trying to get Warner Bros., who own the rights to “Chuck,” to be open to, at least, allowing me [to make] a “Chuck” movie. I believe that the show - of all the shows that keep getting rebooted or movies that are made from shows - I feel like “Chuck” is so deserving of that, and you, the fans, are so deserving of that, because we did kind of end the show on a little bit of a cliffhanger. If you haven’t seen the show, I won’t spoil it for you, but you should go see the show. And I think we need to resolve that. At the very least, we need to resolve that. So, in order to do that, there might be a moment in the near-ish future - I don’t know - where I might, on [social media], I might post to the world, and I might say, “Hey, go to this website and say - raise your hand - and say, ‘I want this.’” Not only will I need you to sign that petition… I know there’s some petitions that have floated around but none of them have been really official, so none of them have really been […] respected by the [movie studio]. So, to do an official petition or an official website, where I can send all of you people to it and say, “If you want this, let me know”… and it can’t stop at you; you’ve got to spread that all over the world. It becomes your mission, beyond that, right? And if I could get enough of those signatures and even, like, commitments of, like, “I would spend $10” or “I would spend $20,” or “I would go, I would spend money on this thing,” I think we could make that thing happen. And it would be cool, going back to your question, “What would Chuck and Sarah and Casey and Ellie and Awesome and Morgan… What would their lives look like, 15 years down the road?” - because we’re almost there. I know this because of this. (He gestures to his hair.) Look at all this gray!

On his favorite episode of “Chuck”:

I would say, if I had to pick one, um, the first episode that I got to direct, which was in season three - I think it was episode - it ended up airing as episode 13 or something. It was called “Chuck Versus the Beard.” And it was the episode where Morgan finally found out about everything that was going on. (The audience cheers.) And that was special for myriad reasons. One, it was the first one I got to direct, and I was really grateful for that. But one of the most frustrating things about playing that role was I hated that I had to constantly lie to everyone in my life all the time. And it felt a little repetitive eventually. You know, a helicopter is dropping me off in the courtyard, and I’m like, “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know what that was.” And I was like - you know. So, so - and Morgan was kind of like the first of, of, like, kind of, you know, broke the yoke a little bit to, like, start - then other people started finding the secret. Um, so that was my favorite, I think. Yeah. Yeah.

On his least favorite character in “Tangled”:

I don’t know that I have a… Like, I think all the characters in “Tangled” are fantastic. Like, they’re so fantastically done. They’re so fantastically made. You know, it’d be easy to say, “Well, my least favorite is the evil, you know, Mother Gothel.” But she’s a fantastic character. You know what I mean? Like, she’s - she’s so good. “Mother Knows Best” is such a fantastic song. (The audience cheers.) Um, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Uh, it would be easy for me to say Maximus, because he was a little bit of a pain in the - (The audience laughs.) Yeah. Touché. Also, some of you have heard me rant about this before: How is it that Maximus got a Pop before Flynn got a Pop?! (The audience cheers and laughs.) That made me angry, bro. Angry. (An audience member shouts, “You don’t need a Pop - you’re gorgeous!”) I - I don’t need a Pop because I’m gorgeous? All right. (The audience laughs.) I love all the compliments. This is good. This is very nice. (Another audience member shouts something.) Okay, enough already. (The audience laughs.) They did. They got my nose right. The Pop got my nose right.

On his favorite part of playing Shazam:

The Wizard chose Billy because of his heart. It wasn’t because he was, you know, hyper-intelligent, or wise, or experienced. He was a child, right? But when you give that level of power to someone, it’s their heart that ultimately dictates how that power affects the world. And Billy had a heart that cared and was sacrificial, and really wanted - literally laid his life on the line in order to save his family and to save the world. And so, I think that’s my favorite part of playing Shazam, for sure.

On identifying with Anxiety in “Inside Out 2” and the importance of crying:

This is why we’ve got to love ourselves. This is why we’ve got to love each other. Because it’s hard. Life is hard. (The audience applauds and cheers.) I watched “Inside Out 2,” and they introduce - if you haven’t seen it - they introduce Anxiety into the story. I could not stop crying. Like, I - my girlfriend was sitting next to me - (He imitates exaggerated sobbing; the audience laughs.) My girlfriend - I don’t know why I - Also, listen, I’m not embarrassed about this. We should all cry. It’s important. Especially guys. (The audience cheers.) Especially us guys. But I’m watching this movie, and I’m watching Anxiety portrayed in this funny, wacky, animated form in this young girl’s head, and I silently weep. Like, I didn’t want to audibly weep, because everyone in the theater would have been like, “This guy is out of his mind. Like, something is - did he stab himself? How bad is the popcorn?” (The audience laughs.) I could - I just - I saw myself in that, in that Anxiety represented in this form, and it wrecked me. It wrecked me. But that’s beautiful. So, that’s up there. That’s up there as well. But also all the other ones I was talking about. Thank you.