I started writing this not long after we finished up the final session but quickly lost interest. It's been a few months and now that I've had time to decompress it feels right to finish it up and tie it all off with the benefit of time massaging away the irrelevant moments. To get to it:
So we had our final session.
Dice were thrown, drinks were had, crazy burgers were made. It was an epic session; everyone was sweating and passed out by the end of it. Although, that may have been because our AirBNB's AC broke in the 90F heat.
The multiverse was saved. In a way. And this is how it happened:
They arrived at the Fortress of Conclusion, tentative and suspicious. The end was here and their quarry was no where to be seen. The great gates of the fortress stood open, a massive maw inviting disaster. An ill omen in the form of the tortured form of the wizard Desatysso was left to greet them. He craved death, they gave it to him.
And so they entered into the maw, I show the players this as they get their first look:
Almost in unison my players all looked at me and said, "You bastard." The absolute highest praise for a dungeon master.
They'd already run through the tomb earlier as part of the adventure Return to the Tomb of Horrors so its been fresh in their memory. Burned even. They've also seen it a few other times, scattered one shots, etc. I'll make a post at some point about the apocryphal Tomb, it has some history in my games and I feel like I have a unique perspective on the thing from having run it so many times.
To make a much longer story somewhat shorter, the tomb was largely avoidable since they knew where all the traps were but they did notice a number of strange discrepancies. First was these strange black spikes hammered into the ceiling, usually above some particular object. The first was the shattered sentient bow of one of the characters that Acererak had yoinked during a previous combat. Other spikes pointed at the corpse of Acererak's servant Leon (a particularly loyal mortal servant slain by the party many sessions previously), the captured form of Acererak's Balor father, the ghost of his mother, his research thesis, and a particularly tasty cookie. Those sorts of things, you catch the drift. Reworked elements from the final dungeon in the Return to the Tomb of Horrors.
Then they came into the columned hall and confronted the Arch-Lich himself. To their surprise, his phylactery was already dust on the floor; destroyed from their perspective by some outside force (the actions and sacrifice of my other group). He said he was tired and they are all going to die. They laughed at him. He brought forth his army. They quit laughing.
What followed was nearly 12 hours of combat, blood shed on all sides. It was tense and to my credit, I kept it together for the most part.
If we were going to challenge a group of over a dozen 20th level characters, by god it would require something special. And so I dispensed with groups of pretty much every flavor of monster tribe; from a flight of each chromatic dragon to each of the demons and devils, to a host of mindflayers and other aberrations straight from the far realms. They did well enough, but understandably their resources started to dwindle. Spells were lost, consumables tossed, and rests were not possible. It didn't look good. Until they noticed the black spikes and yanked one out of the wall and the true situation revealed itself; the dungeon could be rearranged.
The previous week I had found and downloaded a scale version of the tomb (https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/86168/Tomb-of-Horrors-Map-Set) and had cut it out. It was spread throughout three rooms in the lower level of the AirBNB. By pulling the spikes, they could pick up any room and move it such that its entrances matched up with another, i.e. swap rooms around. What was once a stressful but not terribly exciting series of combats immediately became a tactical opportunity, everyone bent on manipulating the geometry of the tomb to their advantage. Every trap, pit, and illusion could be flipped on their opponents. They could set up ambushes, split up groups of monsters, and make distractions. Play their opponents against each other (it wasn't an accident Acererak separated the Demons and Devils; little reenactment of the blood war anyone?). I don't think I've seen my group ever as engaged and a few hours later the dust settled and they found themselves again before Acererak, triumph in their eyes. They didn't see the Time Stop, Delayed Blast Fireball, Cloudkill coming...
A few of them went down straight away, obliterated by that combo. Their few NPC allies didn't stand a chance. They were furious. And Acererak just dropped another with a Power Word Kill before raising their dead allies to serve him. Again, it looked like the end was here. Except their wizard had saved his Wish. We all turned to him...
"I wish for us all to be restored to ..."
"Counterspell"
"What"
"He uses counterspell, at ninth level."
You could feel a pin drop as everyone looked around at each other. Panic and disgust. Of course he would.
"I can use my reaction during my turn too right?"
"I believe so yes."
"So I can counterspell the counterspell?"
"Normally easily, but for Acererak you'll still need to roll."
"What do I need?"
"You'll need a total of 23, it's nearly impossible with your bonus of +5."
"But it is possible, so I'll roll."
Tension again, watching the dice slowly stop. It showed a 15. Not enough. Fear. It might as well have been over. They searched for any other advantage, trying anything they could. It didn't stick and they looked crestfallen.
"Hey, didn't I cast guidance on him a turn or two ago?"
"You... did didn't you. And you haven't cast another concentration spell or take damage so its still up."
"We are at 20, he just needs a 3 or a 4."
They rolled a 4. Cheers, dancing, and jubilation resounded as their comrades returned. The rest of the fight wasn't easy, Acererak gave it everything but the tide turned. A few other tricks, a second stage, and a brutal smack down later it was over: Acererak was seemingly dead. It was already 1 in the morning, everyone was slumped over in their chairs exhausted but satisfied. And then I made a critical mistake; Acererak made a wish as well for them to see things from his perspective. They debated whether to counterspell it or not but ultimately decided they were curious enough to see what that meant. So we started up a game of 12 candles.
Unfortunately it didn't go as planned. You can imagine the intended affect, they experience a game where they know they are going to lose from the beginning, they feel that gut punch reminder of life, and we leave it off with a bittersweet note (seriously check out ten candles, its a great game: https://cavalrygames.com/ten-candles). It would be a great tool to have them think about the perspective of the somewhat fourth wall breaking character that Acererak had become. But I was far too tired and it was my first time running the game. It went very poorly and we wrapped it up frustrated and disappointed.
My players were troopers and stuck it out another hour to do an epilogue scene with their characters which was amazing, tears were shed and their stories concluded. But I felt robbed as we could have used the time from ten-candles to have a more full complete ending for everyone to finish whatever business they had but that itself is life; You can't always get what you want. A teaching moment perhaps, know your limits and respect them.
Everyone had a good time, maybe even a great one. The game ended and although I felt it could have gone better, after a few months to decompress and process not only the inevitable feeling of loss associated with completing something like this, but also my disappointment in how it ended, I feel at peace with the outcome. I've since started up a Pathfinder 2e game which has been very well received but I find my thoughts occasionally drifting back towards that low lying hill with three entrances. In some ways voices still echo within, torches casting light on mysterious murals and profane traps of devious design. Its magnetic attraction has me pondering hidden meanings, as if plumbing the depths myself for their secrets. Even in my games now my players still reference it; "But what color is it...?", "How many entrances!?", "Don't touch that fucking thing, it could be like that green maw...". And in that way the Arch-Lich triumphed beyond his wildest dreams: that place has left an indelible mark upon them.
It also helps that their first wish in their new multiverse was to bring him back with a new chance at life. I play him as their mercenary companies chronicler, writing their stories into legend through the company newspaper and very occasionally delving into lost tombs from a forgotten age, torch in hand, ten-foot pole in the other. Certainly not Gary's intention, but much like his tomb he has become something else.
The legend of the Tomb of Horrors finally lives.
-- Bing Image Creator Generated Image
