TheMinxTail
2010-04-16, 07:23 PM
While making myself a cup of tea as us residents of the UK are compelled to do, I found myself struck by some degree of inspiration, the lead in for the main topic, if you shall indulge me furtehr good reader:
The paragons among mortals that are your characters [LV20 PCs] thought that with the fall of all that darkness that had come before them, all the corpses left smited, slashed and burned behind them, that on this seemingly normal - or as by thier perception of the concept, normal - trek through the enigmatic dungeon could pose as much of a threat as the one you sensed the second the first of you layed hands upon the door. As it swings ajar, without the casting of a single detect spell, your perceptions are overloaded, yourselves overpowerred as you step into teh chamber, before even reality itself seems to rebind, reshape to better fit your perceptions. Before you is and odd man - dressed in the most outlandish clothes, his head resting on teh back of his hands, a board and table before his humble throne in the far edge of the room. Feeling a compulsion run through you that not even the Paladin can quite resist as he beckons forth with a wave of his hand, not taking his eyes from the board and the pieces therein for a moment, you approach, noting the movement of teh pieces on teh board as you do so. As you near close enough to recognise the statuettes strewn across the board as yourselves, he holds out his palm, commanding a pause from you as he looks forth, not up at you, throwing back his cowl. 'Greetings', he says, in a voice containing authority taht rings throughout yourskull as he speaks such simple words. 'I am the Dungeon Master.'
A tad hammy, I know, but I thought up the words as I went along, and hey, I managed to do it all vefore my tea got cold (come to think of it, that's what motivated me to finish the final chapter to the first draft of my novel, must remember to utilise this technique). My thusfar unpublished works aside, I decided that it would be cool if, as an epilogue to an epic campaign, preferably one that steered the PCs through memorable advantures from first to twentieth level of killing everything from goblin commoners to the ridiculously overtemplated Balor Lord Lich and his horde of fallen angels, the PCs could fight the Dungeon Master himself - a being who is basically God. This presents all sorts of handling options and concundrems that, sadly, I am a tad removed from; after all the level 5 party that I DM for doesn't even have the brains for cantrips yet, I'm not going to have the ultimate foe randomly appear to them for quite a bit - hell, at least one of them will have graduated by the time they can handle Pit Fiends. In such a case, those more experienced of currently relevant DMs might be able to guide my thoughts on how to approach such an encounter, as one day I do plan on using it to wrap up the last of the loose ends (though probably in another campaign - thsi one is sort of falling apart at the seams due to my inexperience).
The first question is of what reason teh DM would want to fight the PCs directly. This is, granted, something that I can worry about in a more case specific context. However, the biggest one I thought of is to test them, trial them, perhaps to see if they are worthy of ascension or defending their world a bit longer. In the case of the former, the PCs might have the conundrum in mind of finally taking teh small window of oppurtunity of ascending to what is basically Heaven in every sense of the concept, that or a demigod level campaign (have to break the limit somehow), and be prompted to chose between rewards or staying on earth a while longer to defend the world. A more epic explanation is that they have become old and withered, or the final battle drained much of their power, or the world has in some almost etheral way outgrown them (i.e. if all the criminals in Gotham turned themselves in and teh psychopaths became adjusted and the worst anyone ever did was insurace fraud, does it really need Batman?), but as their whole adult lives have been nothing but impossible odds after impossible odds spread throughout high-fantasy battles, tehy cannot bare to simply fade into the background. Sensing their wishes, the Dunegon Master himself appears - a large tower manifesting in the middle of their hometown that no one else can interact with or detect, each level containing one of their old adverseries, the twenty first level their ultimate opponent. While the dungeon master may pull his punches enough to not ultimately eradicate them instantly, he does give them a run for their money, and an honourable death, fighting by the sidss of their friends, exactly how they would have wanted it. In such a case, the dungeon master might pretend to be a hellbent villain, a childish personality taht has grown bored of and wants to scrap their very existence, even pretending to fall along with the last of the PCs with a cry of 'curses' to leave them safe in the knowledge they succeeded.
Another concundrum is the general appearance of the so-called dungeons master. I have four main categories, though their are plenty of variations I am sure, these seem the most intresting. First is the typical Gandalf-type look, old man, robes, white hair, you know the stereotypical wizard even if he is a, say, Fighter. The key to this one is helping pull off the impression of the almighty being, and an intesting spin would be have teh Pcs each, whether it is there or not, see something of an elderly male figure they revered in him - the retired knight who passed down everything he knew of swordplay to the Paladin, the archmage who vanished off the face of teh earth after overseeing the wizard's graduation ceremony, etcetera. The second is effectively nothing - either an utterly nondescript character, perhaps hidden in the shadows, or one who is magically warded from perception by the mere inhabitants of the D&D multiverse - either way think the Thing In the Shadows that Xykon has, though perhaps with better taste in food. The third is abberation - something that is alien even in biology and makes little to no secret of it, such as the Cthulhu or Pennywise the Dancing Clown. This is more of a combat effect - the PCs would have to overcome a very strange set of challenges to prevail - unheard of spell-like effects that Spell Resistence has no effect against. For me personally, I don't think that would have quite teh right feel unless it were the lead in for a new campaign world. Finally, the fourth is, of course, me. I don't mean if you try this technique make a character based on me personally, I mean the actual DM. The advantage to this is that the second you describe the Dungeon Master's unkempt hair and eery glare, the PCs will know from the getgo who this person is - and shiver to think what's about to be thrown at them. This might be a bit of an ego trip, but its probably the technique I would use. after all, more than any of the other categories I thought up, this is the one taht teh players will most readily accept before them as Dungeon Master - the face that's stared across at them from teh other side of screen and board for the last year's weekends.
The final question is of how the combat plays out, which I would like to see discussed amongst you all in this forum as I am sure it will have the most varied response. I would personally have a shapeshifting arena taht split off teh PCs into a background fro single combat best fitting their personality/experience/fighting style - the fabricated smouldering ruins of the Grand Cathedral and Imperial Castle for the royal Paladin, an actual gladiatorial arena for the Fighter, an eschewed space version of a darkened street for the Rogue, whatever. The Dungeon Master then splits into multiple forms, each looking like a cross between his regular self and the PC he faced in that location, particularly in gear. The idea is that the OCs must prove their individual capabilities ina battle with someone who is supposed to be jsut like them but better - perhaps without Age Penalties or some sort of template, but otherwise like a Mirror of Opposition. This section would not be limited to combat either - for example, the Ranger is sent away to a celestial forest wherein he must find the Dunegon Master or another object befor ehe himself is found, during which teh DM effectively closes his metaphoriacal (or physical) third eye to 'even' the playing field. Or the wizard faces off for a battle of grandeur with magic crafting, or a contest or riddles. In the case of noncombat sequences, or the given examples or trading riddles, it may be quite hard to pull off (see also the compiled explanation for why stupid people can't effectively roleplay smart people, though not necessarily visa versa), though if pulled off with just the right ability could be the most memorable part of the campaign. After the PCs each triumph in their chosen category, perhaps surpassng the last of their shortcomings, the arena morphs into something represting the groups unity - perhaps the place where they first met but with a far more supernatural tinge to it or their previous final battlefield, though now abandonned as the Dunegon Master pulls himself together, Effectively becoming an epic level Psion or something of the sorty (lets face it at high levels, when you think cosmic being, you either think Psionics or gave never heard of Psions), or hell, a dragon. Dungeons and DRAGONS after all; have it come full circle if yoru players won't smasm to death from the near-pun. The concepts aren't mutually exclusive by the by - you could totally have a Great Wyrm Psion. Now that would be a final boss. Either way, the PCs face their largest bag of hit points yet and wittle him down over the course of an epic batlle, expending every last charge in their epic staff etcetera, until the DM is 'slain'. At that point, he manifests one more time in the form of a disembodied voice to congratulate them as they reappear on the road the were swept off of, or on teh proad to their next campaign series as epic characters, and I do my best to simulate a where-are-they-now ending credits montage in DnD form.
Well, tell me what you think. I had a silly idea about using specific adventures to train PCs into DMs so we could rotate every now and then, but it can wait for a more approprioate forum. Anyway, thanks for reading this increadibly long post. I could be working on redrafting my 300 page confusing epic before approaching more agents or publishers, but hey; DnD wouldn't be the same if it didn't consume the lives of all but the most emotionally balances of its players, now would it?
Edit: Removed a few spelling mistakes from coloured text, too lazy to do all.
The paragons among mortals that are your characters [LV20 PCs] thought that with the fall of all that darkness that had come before them, all the corpses left smited, slashed and burned behind them, that on this seemingly normal - or as by thier perception of the concept, normal - trek through the enigmatic dungeon could pose as much of a threat as the one you sensed the second the first of you layed hands upon the door. As it swings ajar, without the casting of a single detect spell, your perceptions are overloaded, yourselves overpowerred as you step into teh chamber, before even reality itself seems to rebind, reshape to better fit your perceptions. Before you is and odd man - dressed in the most outlandish clothes, his head resting on teh back of his hands, a board and table before his humble throne in the far edge of the room. Feeling a compulsion run through you that not even the Paladin can quite resist as he beckons forth with a wave of his hand, not taking his eyes from the board and the pieces therein for a moment, you approach, noting the movement of teh pieces on teh board as you do so. As you near close enough to recognise the statuettes strewn across the board as yourselves, he holds out his palm, commanding a pause from you as he looks forth, not up at you, throwing back his cowl. 'Greetings', he says, in a voice containing authority taht rings throughout yourskull as he speaks such simple words. 'I am the Dungeon Master.'
A tad hammy, I know, but I thought up the words as I went along, and hey, I managed to do it all vefore my tea got cold (come to think of it, that's what motivated me to finish the final chapter to the first draft of my novel, must remember to utilise this technique). My thusfar unpublished works aside, I decided that it would be cool if, as an epilogue to an epic campaign, preferably one that steered the PCs through memorable advantures from first to twentieth level of killing everything from goblin commoners to the ridiculously overtemplated Balor Lord Lich and his horde of fallen angels, the PCs could fight the Dungeon Master himself - a being who is basically God. This presents all sorts of handling options and concundrems that, sadly, I am a tad removed from; after all the level 5 party that I DM for doesn't even have the brains for cantrips yet, I'm not going to have the ultimate foe randomly appear to them for quite a bit - hell, at least one of them will have graduated by the time they can handle Pit Fiends. In such a case, those more experienced of currently relevant DMs might be able to guide my thoughts on how to approach such an encounter, as one day I do plan on using it to wrap up the last of the loose ends (though probably in another campaign - thsi one is sort of falling apart at the seams due to my inexperience).
The first question is of what reason teh DM would want to fight the PCs directly. This is, granted, something that I can worry about in a more case specific context. However, the biggest one I thought of is to test them, trial them, perhaps to see if they are worthy of ascension or defending their world a bit longer. In the case of the former, the PCs might have the conundrum in mind of finally taking teh small window of oppurtunity of ascending to what is basically Heaven in every sense of the concept, that or a demigod level campaign (have to break the limit somehow), and be prompted to chose between rewards or staying on earth a while longer to defend the world. A more epic explanation is that they have become old and withered, or the final battle drained much of their power, or the world has in some almost etheral way outgrown them (i.e. if all the criminals in Gotham turned themselves in and teh psychopaths became adjusted and the worst anyone ever did was insurace fraud, does it really need Batman?), but as their whole adult lives have been nothing but impossible odds after impossible odds spread throughout high-fantasy battles, tehy cannot bare to simply fade into the background. Sensing their wishes, the Dunegon Master himself appears - a large tower manifesting in the middle of their hometown that no one else can interact with or detect, each level containing one of their old adverseries, the twenty first level their ultimate opponent. While the dungeon master may pull his punches enough to not ultimately eradicate them instantly, he does give them a run for their money, and an honourable death, fighting by the sidss of their friends, exactly how they would have wanted it. In such a case, the dungeon master might pretend to be a hellbent villain, a childish personality taht has grown bored of and wants to scrap their very existence, even pretending to fall along with the last of the PCs with a cry of 'curses' to leave them safe in the knowledge they succeeded.
Another concundrum is the general appearance of the so-called dungeons master. I have four main categories, though their are plenty of variations I am sure, these seem the most intresting. First is the typical Gandalf-type look, old man, robes, white hair, you know the stereotypical wizard even if he is a, say, Fighter. The key to this one is helping pull off the impression of the almighty being, and an intesting spin would be have teh Pcs each, whether it is there or not, see something of an elderly male figure they revered in him - the retired knight who passed down everything he knew of swordplay to the Paladin, the archmage who vanished off the face of teh earth after overseeing the wizard's graduation ceremony, etcetera. The second is effectively nothing - either an utterly nondescript character, perhaps hidden in the shadows, or one who is magically warded from perception by the mere inhabitants of the D&D multiverse - either way think the Thing In the Shadows that Xykon has, though perhaps with better taste in food. The third is abberation - something that is alien even in biology and makes little to no secret of it, such as the Cthulhu or Pennywise the Dancing Clown. This is more of a combat effect - the PCs would have to overcome a very strange set of challenges to prevail - unheard of spell-like effects that Spell Resistence has no effect against. For me personally, I don't think that would have quite teh right feel unless it were the lead in for a new campaign world. Finally, the fourth is, of course, me. I don't mean if you try this technique make a character based on me personally, I mean the actual DM. The advantage to this is that the second you describe the Dungeon Master's unkempt hair and eery glare, the PCs will know from the getgo who this person is - and shiver to think what's about to be thrown at them. This might be a bit of an ego trip, but its probably the technique I would use. after all, more than any of the other categories I thought up, this is the one taht teh players will most readily accept before them as Dungeon Master - the face that's stared across at them from teh other side of screen and board for the last year's weekends.
The final question is of how the combat plays out, which I would like to see discussed amongst you all in this forum as I am sure it will have the most varied response. I would personally have a shapeshifting arena taht split off teh PCs into a background fro single combat best fitting their personality/experience/fighting style - the fabricated smouldering ruins of the Grand Cathedral and Imperial Castle for the royal Paladin, an actual gladiatorial arena for the Fighter, an eschewed space version of a darkened street for the Rogue, whatever. The Dungeon Master then splits into multiple forms, each looking like a cross between his regular self and the PC he faced in that location, particularly in gear. The idea is that the OCs must prove their individual capabilities ina battle with someone who is supposed to be jsut like them but better - perhaps without Age Penalties or some sort of template, but otherwise like a Mirror of Opposition. This section would not be limited to combat either - for example, the Ranger is sent away to a celestial forest wherein he must find the Dunegon Master or another object befor ehe himself is found, during which teh DM effectively closes his metaphoriacal (or physical) third eye to 'even' the playing field. Or the wizard faces off for a battle of grandeur with magic crafting, or a contest or riddles. In the case of noncombat sequences, or the given examples or trading riddles, it may be quite hard to pull off (see also the compiled explanation for why stupid people can't effectively roleplay smart people, though not necessarily visa versa), though if pulled off with just the right ability could be the most memorable part of the campaign. After the PCs each triumph in their chosen category, perhaps surpassng the last of their shortcomings, the arena morphs into something represting the groups unity - perhaps the place where they first met but with a far more supernatural tinge to it or their previous final battlefield, though now abandonned as the Dunegon Master pulls himself together, Effectively becoming an epic level Psion or something of the sorty (lets face it at high levels, when you think cosmic being, you either think Psionics or gave never heard of Psions), or hell, a dragon. Dungeons and DRAGONS after all; have it come full circle if yoru players won't smasm to death from the near-pun. The concepts aren't mutually exclusive by the by - you could totally have a Great Wyrm Psion. Now that would be a final boss. Either way, the PCs face their largest bag of hit points yet and wittle him down over the course of an epic batlle, expending every last charge in their epic staff etcetera, until the DM is 'slain'. At that point, he manifests one more time in the form of a disembodied voice to congratulate them as they reappear on the road the were swept off of, or on teh proad to their next campaign series as epic characters, and I do my best to simulate a where-are-they-now ending credits montage in DnD form.
Well, tell me what you think. I had a silly idea about using specific adventures to train PCs into DMs so we could rotate every now and then, but it can wait for a more approprioate forum. Anyway, thanks for reading this increadibly long post. I could be working on redrafting my 300 page confusing epic before approaching more agents or publishers, but hey; DnD wouldn't be the same if it didn't consume the lives of all but the most emotionally balances of its players, now would it?
Edit: Removed a few spelling mistakes from coloured text, too lazy to do all.