After enduring ten grueling sessions of relentless combat, the weary party finally emerges from the depths of the nefarious BBEG castle. Before them loom colossal stone doors, standing an intimidating twenty feet tall. The dark, foreboding surface of the doors is adorned with intricate battle scenes, meticulously carved in shadowy relief. Glimmers of silver, gold, and bronze embellishments punctuate the engravings, accentuating the chilling artistry.
Summoning the last vestiges of their strength, the party’s valiant fighter exerts every ounce of effort to pry open the massive doors. A hushed anticipation fills the air as the doors creak and groan under the strain, slowly revealing what lies beyond. What awaits them is a sight to behold—an expansive throne room stretching into the depths. Illuminated by a single beam of ethereal light, a throne stands regally at a distance of nearly three hundred feet.
With cautious steps, the party stealthily advances toward the throne, their hearts pounding in their chests. However, their hopes are shattered as they discover that the throne they sought was but an illusory mirage, a deceptive projection. Disguised beneath it, obscured from view, rests the true throne, no taller than three inches. Seated upon this diminutive throne, an audacious mouse dons a complete suit of battle armor. Gazing upon the approaching party, a sinister smirk curls upon its rodent features, filled with contemptuous delight.
Tension permeates the air as fate hangs by a thread. The party readies themselves for the ultimate showdown, an all-or-nothing clash.
Roll for initiative.
The wizard, whose magical energies have been depleted long ago, glimmers with a glint of determination in their eyes. Channeling their last remaining reservoirs of power, they cast their final spell—a desperate fire bolt launched into the abyss.
In an instant, the malevolent mouse lord is engulfed in a torrent of scorching flames, its malicious laughter replaced by agonized shrieks that echo through the chamber. The flames consume it, reducing the once formidable enemy to naught but ashes, scattering upon the cold, stone floor.
And so, the battle concludes, leaving the victorious party standing amidst the remnants of their adversary. The echoes of their triumph reverberate through the hallowed halls, forever etching their names into the annals of legend.
Basically this. The party has finished the actual final fight, but you throw something at them and give them some kind of boost that’ll let them go ham. Kind of a form of catharsis, letting them feel like bad-asses. Kinda like FFVII or Demon Souls.
I’m thinking about giving my players a victory lap, where they’ve already beat the BBEG in two or three phases, then have to escape the castle as it crashes down around them. From the rubble comes the BBEG, transformed into a gargantuan monster by his dark god. However, by slaying him and doing a bunch of other stuff, the PCs have finally returned the good diety to the land. He gives them a blessing that’s basically a long rest + massive damage buff. Queue the heavy metal soundtrack while I narrate my players being complete badasses while they fight this massive beast.
Either as a player or a DM, I don’t like a huge opponent that’s easily defeated.
I do like the idea of a victory lap, where they steamroll their way out after defeating the big bad, but I don’t think throwing a bigger bad at them is the best idea, especially if it goes down easily. Maybe if you’re setting up the next big bad for the next campaign.
Usually I just do some kind of “the cavern collapsing around you” escape with dex or str rolls, but if anyone fails, I let the people who passed give them help to give them advantage (and they almost always pass, and if they don’t, they only lose HP, which at this point is not a big deal).
What would a victory lap be in this context?
After enduring ten grueling sessions of relentless combat, the weary party finally emerges from the depths of the nefarious BBEG castle. Before them loom colossal stone doors, standing an intimidating twenty feet tall. The dark, foreboding surface of the doors is adorned with intricate battle scenes, meticulously carved in shadowy relief. Glimmers of silver, gold, and bronze embellishments punctuate the engravings, accentuating the chilling artistry.
Summoning the last vestiges of their strength, the party’s valiant fighter exerts every ounce of effort to pry open the massive doors. A hushed anticipation fills the air as the doors creak and groan under the strain, slowly revealing what lies beyond. What awaits them is a sight to behold—an expansive throne room stretching into the depths. Illuminated by a single beam of ethereal light, a throne stands regally at a distance of nearly three hundred feet.
With cautious steps, the party stealthily advances toward the throne, their hearts pounding in their chests. However, their hopes are shattered as they discover that the throne they sought was but an illusory mirage, a deceptive projection. Disguised beneath it, obscured from view, rests the true throne, no taller than three inches. Seated upon this diminutive throne, an audacious mouse dons a complete suit of battle armor. Gazing upon the approaching party, a sinister smirk curls upon its rodent features, filled with contemptuous delight.
Tension permeates the air as fate hangs by a thread. The party readies themselves for the ultimate showdown, an all-or-nothing clash.
Roll for initiative.
The wizard, whose magical energies have been depleted long ago, glimmers with a glint of determination in their eyes. Channeling their last remaining reservoirs of power, they cast their final spell—a desperate fire bolt launched into the abyss.
In an instant, the malevolent mouse lord is engulfed in a torrent of scorching flames, its malicious laughter replaced by agonized shrieks that echo through the chamber. The flames consume it, reducing the once formidable enemy to naught but ashes, scattering upon the cold, stone floor.
And so, the battle concludes, leaving the victorious party standing amidst the remnants of their adversary. The echoes of their triumph reverberate through the hallowed halls, forever etching their names into the annals of legend.
The end.
Basically this. The party has finished the actual final fight, but you throw something at them and give them some kind of boost that’ll let them go ham. Kind of a form of catharsis, letting them feel like bad-asses. Kinda like FFVII or Demon Souls.
I’m thinking about giving my players a victory lap, where they’ve already beat the BBEG in two or three phases, then have to escape the castle as it crashes down around them. From the rubble comes the BBEG, transformed into a gargantuan monster by his dark god. However, by slaying him and doing a bunch of other stuff, the PCs have finally returned the good diety to the land. He gives them a blessing that’s basically a long rest + massive damage buff. Queue the heavy metal soundtrack while I narrate my players being complete badasses while they fight this massive beast.
Either as a player or a DM, I don’t like a huge opponent that’s easily defeated.
I do like the idea of a victory lap, where they steamroll their way out after defeating the big bad, but I don’t think throwing a bigger bad at them is the best idea, especially if it goes down easily. Maybe if you’re setting up the next big bad for the next campaign.
Usually I just do some kind of “the cavern collapsing around you” escape with dex or str rolls, but if anyone fails, I let the people who passed give them help to give them advantage (and they almost always pass, and if they don’t, they only lose HP, which at this point is not a big deal).