Behind the door at the end of the world

[Mikeavelli]

Up North at the top of the world. Frozen lands where nothing lives, or unlives. Where nothing exists but the howling winds, treacherous ice, and biting cold.

Up there, where precious few have ever gone, and still fewer have ever returned, there is a door, forged from metal stronger than Adamantium, marked with magical wards that none in our world have ever possessed the skill to create. Past all the protections, there is a final warning, a message written over and over again, in every language ever written, "Do not Enter. End of the World."

[hr]

This is the Macguffin, the thing in my campaign that has been hinted at, and (recently) directly revealed to exist for nearly half the campaign. The door is protected by fate itself, nothing bound by fate had any chance of getting past, and so the most knowledgeable sages of the world wrote about it, wondered what was past it, and then decided they had better take the warning seriously.

For various reasons which make sense in the campaign world, no-one in the world is bound by fate anymore, so that little restriction no longer applies. As a result, almost every high-level NPC in the world is now heading up there.

Some want to find out what's behind the door, some others think that's a terrible idea and want to stop the first group, almost all of these are individuals the (almost epic-level) party has interacted with extensively over the course of the campaign.

It's a campaign-ending adventure where the party will have the chance to settle almost every remaining plot thread before the campaign is rebooted (they're decent optimizers, so the power level of 20th level PC's is spiraling off into brokenness) - and there's just one problem.

I never decided what was behind the door.

It's D&D 3.5 but I'm posting here because I don't terribly want it to be a mechanical thing, just awesome ideas. Any takers?

[dsmiles]

Perhaps behind the door is an unfinished portion of the world:

"Standing in the vast whiteness before you is a turquoise-skinned man with massive feathered wings. He wears a bright orange garment and matching helmet. He wields a staff with a large red octagon perched atop it. Emblazoned in a glowing, white script are the letters S, T, O, and P. He speaks. 'You may go no further, beyond this point the world is unfinished. The gods in who control this portion of the world have been deadlocked, waiting for a mortal to come along and make a decision. A decision as to how this portion of the world is to be formed.'"Yes, it's a Planetar in a road guard vest and hard hat, carrying a stop sign.

[Jude_H]

The extension of an established campaign theme.
A front stoop.
The start of the world.
A cupboard.
A billiards table.
An unkempt mutt.

But that first one is probably what I'd go for.

[TheCountAlucard]

Beyond the door lies the world-body of one of the great Primordials who engineered the world; as the innovator of Fate itself, this one decreed that Fate would prevent intruders from intruding on him as he slept away the ages.

However, his vast, mechanical body is slowly dying, from a sickness he possessed before the beginning of time, and thus he has grown too weak to awaken himself. Though this titanic body is a realm of brass and shadow, of lightning and oil and steam and crystal, it is sick.

He is not alone, though; within the technological reaches lies a number of civilizations, populated by the descendants of humanoids he'd stolen away in the First Age to provide him with their prayers. As his titanic body slowly dies around them, the people have taken to desperate measures, creating great mechanical heroes to try and solve their ever-increasing problems.

With the help of the PCs, he may yet be awakened and cured.[/ripoff]

[The Rose Dragon]

Behind the door at the end of the world lies the end of the world. If you open it, the world is destroyed. Therefore, no one should open it. Obviously, the PCs will do so.

((It was a necessary design flaw.))

[navar100]

Two beings sit at a table, Law and Chaos.

Chaos speaks enthusiatically: "I win. Told you curiosity trumps all rules, regulations, and warnings."

Law responds: "Congratulations! The world ends. Now it gets remade into something more balanced, where the power doesn't get so extreme." (i.e. next campaign) Law smiles victoriously as Chaos slowly realizes how he just lost.

[dsmiles]

Two beings sit at a table, Law and Chaos.

Chaos speaks enthusiatically: "I win. Told you curiosity trumps all rules, regulations, and warnings."

Law responds: "Congratulations! The world ends. Now it gets remade into something more balanced, where the power doesn't get so extreme." (i.e. next campaign) Law smiles victoriously as Chaos slowly realizes how he just lost.

It must be a game of Calvinball with Law as Hobbes, and Chaos as Calvin!

[Lord Loss]

the Far Realm would work rather nicely, unleashing terrible horrors upon the world à la Pandora's Box. Except, y'know with Eldritch Horrors. And it would make for a cool next campaign, a world beseiged with terrible creatures (aberrations), with the PCs attempting to shut the darn door.

[Eruantion]

I'd say it would open to a seemingly endless vista of the universe. After the door is opened, it disappears, leaving them standing in front of a cliff in front of this never-ending scene; this puts them literally at the end of the world. As they gaze enraptured by the sprawl of creation, the earth around them begins to fall away, taking them with it. Everything begins to spin, faster and faster, until it blurs into nothingness.

[Mikeavelli]

The extension of an established campaign theme.

The theme since the beginning has been "Choices."

And I'm liking this direction.

Two beings sit at a table, Law and Chaos.

Chaos speaks enthusiatically: "I win. Told you curiosity trumps all rules, regulations, and warnings."

Law responds: "Congratulations! The world ends. Now it gets remade into something more balanced, where the power doesn't get so extreme." (i.e. next campaign) Law smiles victoriously as Chaos slowly realizes how he just lost.

Also this!

the Far Realm would work rather nicely, unleashing terrible horrors upon the world à la Pandora's Box. Except, y'know with Eldritch Horrors. And it would make for a cool next campaign, a world beseiged with terrible creatures (aberrations), with the PCs attempting to shut the darn door.

A Far Realm incursion is actually (part of) what caused the unravelling of fate for the whole world, and a Far Realm monstrosity \ Crazy Wizard hybrid is one of the things heading up North with the intention of opening it.

The players have had some limited communication with it though, and it's already established that it doesn't really know what's behind the door either.

[hr]

The rebooted campaign is scheduled to take place in the same world, after the door situation has been resolved, so no complete end of the world can occur.

[Talakeal]

I once had a similar device as a campaign ending. Beyond the door was a new world ready to be born, and the expectations of the person who opened it shaped the form that world would take. It was a metagame way of introducing the next campaign and asking the player's what sort of game you want.

It could also lead to an area outside of any given world which leads into other worlds, sort of like the wood between the worlds in the Narnia books.

[Sitzkrieg]

A blank, featureless wall. It's the edge of the world, anyway.

Or: A vast stone network of hallways with maps of every decision anyone has ever made etched into the stone as a timeline. Using an adamantine weapon, the characters can alter the past by scratching out past decisions. However, at the point in time where fate has been broken, lies the recently slain body of a frail old woman, clutching a chisel. Beyond this point there is only uncarved stone.

[Siosilvar]

A restaurant.

[dsmiles]

A restaurant.

No, that's at the end of the universe.

[Necroticplague]

Or: A vast stone network of hallways with maps of every decision anyone has ever made etched into the stone as a timeline. Using an adamantine weapon, the characters can alter the past by scratching out past decisions. However, at the point in time where fate has been broken, lies the recently slain body of a frail old woman, clutching a chisel. Beyond this point there is only uncarved stone.

I like this idea, personally. Try carving out a fate for yourself, in the most literal fashion.

[hangedman1984]

It's a campaign-ending adventure where the party will have the chance to settle almost every remaining plot thread before the campaign is rebooted (they're decent optimizers, so the power level of 20th level PC's is spiraling off into brokenness)

*emphasis mine*

this, make it an in-game reboot where the entire setting resets to the moment of creation, to begin again. History possibly following a slightly different path over the ages until it reaches the point in history where the game was originally set. And this world be where the new campaign starts, same world, possibly radically different history.

[gibbo88]

I know I'm pinching the idea from elsewhere, but what about it connects to a hallway which connects onwards to all the different worlds that can, might, do and did exist.

You open the door slowly, tentatively, waiting for the fire and light to engulf the world. It does not. Before you extends a hall, bare and at the same time beautiful. There is no visible source of light but you can, or think you can, see the end of the hall though you get the feeling it is massively distant. Spaced down the hall are other doors, and further down you can see *Insert name of dead good/evil character in your world* walking through a door and looking surprised, as you imagine yourself to look. Shifting signs sit above the doors, changing between every language that you know, but many more that you don't, eventually returning to the beginning.

Blah blah blah. In the end while it is the end of their world it can be the start of any number if you step through the right door. The power is that you can change events that haven't occurred in the other worlds and bend fate to your will, hence why fate was stopping you from getting through the door.

[Siosilvar]

No, that's at the end of the universe.

A café, then?

[Enix18]

What if you don't have to tell them what's beyond the door?

At the end of the campaign, they open the gateway and step through to find—The End. Queue next campaign.

Then, in the next game you run, say that whatever happened at that door so many years ago was something major, maybe something world-changing. Let the players find out that whatever issue or enemy they're now facing is connected to what their previous characters did, and then let them try and discover what was actually behind that door that lead to the current state of affairs.

It's an interesting concept, I think, though I'm not sure if most parties would like such an anti-climax, even if it is for the sake of a greater reveal in the next campaign...

[Another_Poet]

make it an in-game reboot where the entire setting resets to the moment of creation

I'd start with this, but with a Twilight Zone twist.

The PCs, as the first people to walk through the door, do not die with the death of the universe; they become the first gods to make the new world.

Allow them to work collaboratively for a while to design the next world, with its races and natural laws. If they cannot come to an agreement then make different areas reflect their different preferences.

Once they are done--and only then--tell them this:

"As the gods of this world you are the souls of this world. When it dies, you die. Where do you put the door at the end of the world, and how do you protect it?"

Once this decision is made, start the new campaign with 1st level characters who are either avatars of the gods, servants of the gods, or unknown pawns of the gods. Their mission is to prevent the door from being opened.

[Starwulf]

I'd start with this, but with a Twilight Zone twist.

The PCs, as the first people to walk through the door, do not die with the death of the universe; they become the first gods to make the new world.

Allow them to work collaboratively for a while to design the next world, with its races and natural laws. If they cannot come to an agreement then make different areas reflect their different preferences.

Once they are done--and only then--tell them this:

"As the gods of this world you are the souls of this world. When it dies, you die. Where do you put the door at the end of the world, and how do you protect it?"

Once this decision is made, start the new campaign with 1st level characters who are either avatars of the gods, servants of the gods, or unknown pawns of the gods. Their mission is to prevent the door from being opened.

That sounds remarkably fun and interesting. I'd go with this one OP. This one or the one about the Primordial creator of the world whose body is dying. You could let them keep their epic levels, and the start of the new campaign has them going all over the multi-verse trying to find specific things to heal the creator. Even if they are optimized, start throwing creatures their equal but in numbers if need be to challenge them. Have the strongest of the strong creatures guarding the pieces they need, perhaps even a family of them that had been tasked to guard it, long since forgotten why they are guarding it.

[NichG]

I think you should take advantage of this, play up that the door is the end of the campaign, etc, etc, and then when they open it, they start the final segment rather than it just being over right there.

For example, the PCs or the villains or whomever gets to the door first, and (of course) open it. There's an immense pressure as space itself expands from the other side of the door, flinging everyone back. When its over, a new planet hangs in the sky, fire limning its surface. Everyone, everywhere gets a strong impression that this planet is important, that its fate determines everything. Something of critical importance lies upon it, threatened by disaster that was held in stasis only long enough for people who could defeat fate itself could come along, so that its inevitable destruction could be prevented.

Or something like that...

[Ravens_cry]

Behind the door is a small, bent over man, or woman, of whatever race opens the door. His, or her, face, shows the signs of age typical of the their race, but their hands show the calluses of a crafter and they wear typical craftworkers clothes. The door opener is invited inside to talk about "The Work." and if they do, the old one sits down with them nods and smiles, listening intently to what they have to say. After a while, the old one, stands ,thanks them for their visit, escorts them outside, and shuts the door. The opener finds themselves back at wherever they consider home, wherever or whenever that may be.

[dsmiles]

A café, then?

Yeah, a café should be small enough for the end of just a world.

[Cespenar]

What if you don't have to tell them what's beyond the door?

At the end of the campaign, they open the gateway and step through to find—The End. Queue next campaign.

Then, in the next game you run, say that whatever happened at that door so many years ago was something major, maybe something world-changing. Let the players find out that whatever issue or enemy they're now facing is connected to what their previous characters did, and then let them try and discover what was actually behind that door that lead to the current state of affairs.

It's an interesting concept, I think, though I'm not sure if most parties would like such an anti-climax, even if it is for the sake of a greater reveal in the next campaign...

This. Revelations are never as fulfilling as mysteries.

[Tvtyrant]

They enter the door...and exit it in a world that is filled with metal birds and giant towers. :P

Or you could have something really cool and have them enter a place that looks like a massive lake; strewn through the lake are tiny marbles that when closely inspected are planets. At the center of the lake is a single pearl of pure white light. The players can go to hundreds of worlds, but they are drawn to that one. Touching it ends the game, and by implication the universe.

[J.Gellert]

I never decided what was behind the door.

It's D&D 3.5 but I'm posting here because I don't terribly want it to be a mechanical thing, just awesome ideas. Any takers?

"...a marvellous realm of circling clouds, fires and suns beyond the heavens."

Spoiler

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[randomhero00]

Personally, what I'd put behind the door, is a creative "nothing-ness". That is to say, once they enter I'd say something like; "You see white all around you. You do not see any of your party members or anything else."

Basically what would happen in this "white-out" world is pure creative energy. And as soon as they imagined themselves they'd appear. Once they "create" themselves (which can actually be at any power level) a security system would go off. The system would "imagine" itself whatever the party does at a level that would defeat them or challenge them depending on your mood :P

Anyways, to find the McGuffin would require them to say "I imagine X" X being the McGuffin. Treat it like a wish. So that if they don't say (which they probably won't) "safely in my hands" then some sort of monster will appear with it.

[Mr.Bookworm]

When they open it, they can see nothing beyond the door. If they step through, the door slams shut behind them, and they find themselves in a void, with a door exactly like the one they came through floating in front of them, save for what is written on it.

It says "Enter. Beginning of the world."

[Notreallyhere77]

The PCs open the door, and see a short corridor ending in a staircase leading upwards. A sign at the foot of the stairs reads "To the Tapestry of Fate" in Celestial. The staircase, invisible and intangible to those who have not walked through the door and corridor, leads miles skyward, and its occupants are unnaffected by wind and weather. At some point, they reach the firmament, which is velvety and cool to the touch, damp, and climbable, due to a grid of handholds and footholds and cords. It would appear that the future is written (or woven) into the stars themselves. Why do you think astrologers study the stars to divine the future? They know the secret. Now, any suffieciently talented weaver can pick up the thread where it was severed and continue weaving the Tapestry before the world becomes stagnant due to futurelessness.

How's that?