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Svedka
2010-11-03, 10:44 PM
Hello everybody, I'm a long time lurker but first time poster. Up until now I have never felt as though I have had anything interesting to say. After recently finishing my last campaign I think I may actually have a point to discuss.

Picture this, a completely homebrewed sci-fi black comedy campaign, it's the last episode. The protagonists are speeding across the galaxy to the long lost planet known only as Sputnik. Once Sputnik was a research installation for the glorious empire of Motherland (space Russians). The PCs have heard a rumor that on sputnik the Motherlandic scientists have cracked the secret of eternal life and prosperity, right before the planet went dark and dropped out of communication. The PCs plan to steal the secret for both great profit and to finish the work of a friend who was lost working to this goal.

The PCs are hardened space mercenaries, one is a Motherlander himself and an ex priest of Spetznaz (the Motherlandic bear god of war). One is football hooligan / knife enthusiast from Cambria (Space Britain). The third is a six armed bird man with a law degree and a genetic inability to tell the truth under any circumstance. The final member of the crew is a 7 foot tall weasel man with a strong sense of honor and little to no sense of humor.

The PCs arrive and find the scientist's compound infested with zombies, they suspect a bioweapon dropped by trans-dimensional fascists (it's kinda how they roll). Irrelevant of the source of the zombies, the PCs quickly pass some hard repair checks and convert the ship's drink synthesizer to dispense napalm. Using this, a cigarette lighter and a big of hose from the ship that "didn't look important" they clear out the zombies. After landing and entering the base, to their horror the protagonists find that the secret of eternal life and prosperity is in fact a beauty salon and the rumor was nothing more than an immense stuff up in translation. Suddenly a ship appears, the PCs arch rivals have tracked them here and are ready for a showdown. However, instead of attacking the PCs being to explain the situation. After explaining the misunderstanding both teams of mercs have a laugh and go their separate ways....

*Credits roll*

Although this ending is clearly an anticlimax it actually felt like a suitable, and furthermore all of my players seemed satisfied. Has anyone else here ever had a campaign end in a less that explosive fashion, yet at the same time not feel like a letdown?

Gan The Grey
2010-11-04, 12:49 AM
Spoilered for the end of the Red Hand of Doom campaign.

The PC's have invaded the Inner Sanctum of the Fane of Tiamat, and successfully defeated Azarr Kul. They are low on spells and HPs, and are looking skyward at the infernal portal with great unease. Suddenly, a great pillar of multicolored fire erupts from the center of the dias, consuming the battered remnants of the fallen warlord with a deafening roar. The raging inferno quickly coalesces into the five-headed form of evil dragonkind herself - an aspect of Tiamat.

The PC's grit their teeth. Curses are uttered under heaving, weary breaths. Despite the near certainty of death looming before them with bared teeth and unfurled wings, they hold their ground and prepare for the worst. The party fighter wastes little time, charging spear-first into the waiting maws of the beast, immediately eating three AoO's and nearly falling unconscious. His attack barely scratches its hardened scales.

Things are looking grim. The tank is nearly dead and their opponent has yet to even take her turn. The player's resign themselves to the fact that they will die where they stand, and the history books will remember them as the heroes that failed to close the portal to Hell. They congratulate each other on making it this far, and reach for their dice.

That is, all but the cleric.

"Is it my turn?" he asks flatly without blinking.

I wave a hand towards the battlemap. "It's all yours."

He points at the miniature of Orcus I'm using to represent the Aspect. "Dismissal."

I raise a surprised eyebrow, glance at the creature's stats, and snort. "Fat chance of that, sir." I throw the dice, seriously expecting this to be little more than a waste of his turn.

Natural. Freaking. 1.

But then, I'm sure you saw that coming. I and my players, however, did not.

dsmiles
2010-11-04, 04:37 AM
~snip~

Seriously? A letdown? I though that was kind of epic, but then again, my sense of humor is a little warped.

Welknair
2010-11-04, 08:15 AM
Umm... Actually, I thought that was kind of win. Unorthodox, but still win.

If you and your players liked it, that's all that matters.