The Age of Worms took us over two years to run through and we fianlly had the conclusion adventure - Kyuss died though he took racked up six deaths (should have been 7). The party made much use of Wish and Miracle magic, Revifify magic, and had a Celestial Paragon at their side aiding them (as well as the sphere of annhilation).
They barely made it.
They had a fairly easy time of it though Ahlaster - only the Overworm encounter (briefly) and the encounter with Marilee gave them trouble.
What of Lashonna? They had help dealing with her...
Morreto from the tomb of Icosiel (he had a HUGE part in the campaign, his story grew in the telling) had plans for the energies released from the Wormgod's death - but realized that it was unlikely they'd survive Lashonna to get to Kyuss (the Silver Sorceress was READY for them and had pulled out all the stops).
Knowing he'd have to bring in amazing power to deal with her he reached out with his magic to the only entities he believed would be interested: The Dark Powers of Ravenloft.
The powers sent a proxy to contact the PC's and told them that the pressence of Kyuss was too strong for them to get involved directly - they had to help by doing two things: (1) opening a Gate to the Outlands and (2) wishing Lashonna to walk into it.
Happily for the PC's they managed to pull it off, and as Lashonna (to her horror) walked into the portal (I gave her a 50/50 chance of being allowed a Will save - she failed) she was taken by the Dark Powers and placed into her own private Hell - or so they thought.
Now, the campaign epilogue:
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Many corners of the Multiverse have the 'pleasure' of boasting the spetacle of true horror for those unfortunate enough to behold them.
But in one horrible corner of creation, no other place bar (perhaps) the Far Realm, can match the horror of what has taken shape.
Behold a vast and sickly land of towering greenish mountains and yawning chasms filled with green mist. The skies above are filled with writhing and bubbling greenish brown clouds which seem to swirl around a great central mountain tor. A revulsive pal greenish-yellow illumination seeps from the clouds, adding new layers of horror to the myriad of worm-infested abominations that writhe over and burrow through the ground.
On the top of the realm's central mountain stands a giagantic spire of black stone. Green energy writhes across it, almost as if they were giagantic worms made of pure green energy passing across and through the spire here and there. Thunder rolls and blue-black lightning lances down, striking a giagantic writhing green something, bringing an angry roar that dwarfs the sound of the thunder. Kyuss worms then begin to rain down from the clouds above - ever eager to find flesh to devour.
* * *
Lashona, the Queen of Worms, looked out upon her domain from the pinacle of the Spire of Long Shadows. The anger and despaire that had threatned to overwhelm her had passed - replaced with a myriad of darker emotions. Her groom, the great Wormgod Kyuss was dead - slain by interlopers she herself had built up for her own fell purposes. Tools that had become too powerful to control.
Her hands clenched in a moment of rage - her face twisting into something utterly unbecomming for the beautiful elven form she favored.
Thunder rumbled again and more kyuss worms bounced off the windows of her chamber. She smiled at this, knowing that each storm brought new horrors upon the mortals unfortunate to be trapped here with her. Writhing Doom is what she named her domain - and she could feel the anguish of everything in it. She could also feel her power growing with each new transformation wrought by her adopted children.
The laugh of pure wicked glee startled even the most jaded and corrupt of her undead servitors in earshot. Revenge would one day be hers - but now was the time to grow. She knew the natures of the beings that had entrapped her - but they had failed to grasp something fundamental. Ravenloft was a place built to contain death and horror - but she and her children were different.
Oh yes.
The true nature and evil of her children is that they not only required life for sustenence, they were partially alive themselves. And that which lives continues to spread and grow - time was all that was necessary...
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With the death of Kyuss, Moreto was wating to harvest the bounty of divine energy released.
Here is his epilogue (he is served by two NPC's from my campaign, one an ancient Ur-Flan who tricked a PC into giving up his younger body, the other a PC who was utterly corrupted by dabbling in abyssal magics - he cast a forbidden epic spell to slay Ashardalon in a previous campaign).
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With a heavy jerk forward Moreto was thrust out of the crystalline chamber and onto the floor. Lines of green and purple magical energy rolled over his naked pale flesh, causing his long-undead muscles to twitch and writhe. A magical maelstrom continued a moment more in the elevated chamber – the last vestiges of the harvest so carefully cultivated and drawn to this very spot.
Then all was quiet.
The other figures in the room watched with uncertain trepidation – even Moreto was unsure of what would happen when the time came. Moments passed, then one of the senior figures motioned for a cowering human to go forward and check on their leader. The pathetic fellow, a fat and ugly fellow balked at the task.
“He’s dead, I say we get the Hells out of here!” shouted Balabar Smenk defiantly. He had once been the ruler of Diamond Lake not so long ago. Good times, at least until the cursed interlopers came and ruined everything.
“We must know!” said a purple-robed figure in a young, but crackling voice. It was if he believed he was old, and made his voice to sound thus.
Fear gripped Balabar anew – as bad as the interlopers had been, this man was worse. A man of cruelty and evil that Balabar suspected that even Moreto did not understood. He knew his own kind when he saw it – and the thought chilled him to the bone. Fear overcoming reason, Balabar crept forward toward the figure crumpled before him. He could feel the magical power emanating from the figure, a sickening combination of hot/cold that also felt oily.
It all felt wrong.
And then Moreto looked up.
A lifetime of selfishness and cruelty, all personified in the bloated form of Balabar Smenk, came to an abrupt halt in a single heartbeat. Balbar, mere inches from Moreto, suddenly found himself looking into depthless eyes and in this moment he truly knew fear. And then oblivion. In an instant the fat man was erased from existence – the divine power obliterating Smenk body and soul. All from the merest glance.
It was tomorrow – much had changed.
“The Wormgod is dead.” Said Moreto to his fellow conspirators. Of the dozen or so persons who had attended Moreto and his “endeavor,” only two remained. The only two strong enough to survive in his presence. “This is no accident – our Master intended this, and for us to capitalize. We’ve much to do.”
“Our master is one of strange ways – slaying this servant, sparing that. We alone survive from his chosen – it falls to us to complete what has begun” the purple-robed figure said, his young voice cracking with each syllable.
“The Age of Worms was not an end, it was a Means” said the remaining figure, a tall, bald, demonic looking human in black with skull motifs embossed on his ebon robes. “He who sleeps engineered this from the beginning – Kyuss was a pawn, a creature of evil, corruption, and consumption whose purpose was only to serve the greatest of ends. Our Lord’s freedom.”
“The Wormgod’s end shall serve us well” said Moreto, now fully dressed and fully recovered from his ordeal. “Our Lord engineered Kyuss’ ascension for no other purpose than for his harvest – Kyuss was to be consumed, much as he consumed all around him.” Moreto was thoughtful for a moment, then continued. “I believe the Final Event has come, and it is time for us to fulfill His purpose. I propose to liberate the Shothragot.”
Time seemed to stop in the chamber as all three figures locked gazes.
“You know the price that entails!” shrieked the purple-clad figure. “The Suel and Bakluish annihilated themselves in the wake of that vestige!”
“You will squander what we have worked so hard to attain” said the skull enthusiast. “The key to that horror’s prison is your own ruin. You will sacrifice all you have gained – perhaps more – to unleash its madness upon the Oerth.”
Moreto regarded each with his now purple eyes – depthless eyes filled with the power of divinity. “Zelfin, Altrec – long have you labored for the freedom of our Master. You have read the same signs and secrets as I. Do you think it any coincidence that the power necessary to release his greatest servant came into our hands as this time? Do you believe that this might is only here to serve our own ends?”
Zelfin looked horrified at Moreto’s words. “You would sacrifice your newly-gained divinity to unleash a madness you cannot control? It may destroy us all in the process!”
Altrec , however, looked pensive. “Your plan, Moreto, is an enormous risk. The prophecies of the Age of Worms have indeed come to pass – that Kyuss would arise, but be slain in the deed. But you have already shown you can risk and win – your dealings with the Dark Powers of Ravenloft showed this. Pointing them toward those pawns so Lashonna could be removed proved your nerve and the risks you were willing to take. I believe the time is right for what you propose.”
Moreto’s confidence waxed anew – and the corona of his divinity glowed a deep and penetrating purple. It could not be doubted he was the Chosen of Tharizdun – and the one to deliver his god from his eternal prison. “Then let us begin – with this creation’s end shall ours begin. Our Master will unmake all that is impure and wrong with this multiverse – and we shall sit at his right hand to usher in the new reality. A reality of our own making.”
Fade to black.
This is not over….
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What the hell's going on?
Lashonna is going to "break the rules" or Ravenloft - eventually - because the Dark Powers misunderstand the nature of the undead of Kyuss. This is an error that will cost the mortal realm dear in a campaign to come.
Moreto, however, is busy in his task of releasing Tharizdun - he wants to see his Lord destory the universe and remake it in a form more pleasing to the True Ghoul (you'd all get a kick of how this NPC went from 2-paragraph bit player to major power player, much of it with the assistance of the PC's).
Moreto is going to exend the harvested divine energy to free the Shathragot (see the Wizards of the Cost Dragon magazine stuff on it) - which will weaken the bonds of Tharizdun's prison so that Moreto and company has a chance to free him. From there Moreto will let the Shathragot run rapant while he penetrates the deepest valts of the Isle of Cursed Souls to recover the remaining artifacts necessary to accomplish his goal.
This all culminates in a modified version of the Quicksilver Hourglass - with the price of failure the release of Tharizdun itself.
Good stuff.