It was all going to end like this, one day or another
Hooks:
It starts out as a simple enough job, some noble or other has acquired some potentially profitable land but learned too late that it rests within the hunting grounds of some dangerous monsters lairing in a ruin in the nearby mountains. After being hired by an agent of the noble with a sizable upfront payment and the promise of more to come, the party find themselves hiking up into the foothills towards an abandoned abbey. It's your standard monster hunt... aside from the mostly devoured bodies indicating the party are not the first ones to be sent up the mountain.... or the rambling immortal corpse chained up for what seems like decades in a secret cell in the abbey's foundations.
It's a week or so later that the visions start... only rumours at first, people having bad dreams about a hateful red sun in a black sky, horrifying shapes moving about a blasted and ashen countryside... but then one of the heroes "awakens" in the burnt out ruins of the in they went to sleep in last night and are forced to fight for their life against various monstrosities before gasping awake. These visions are unpredictable and intermittent, and as speculation mounts of what they might mean further tales come creeping in about people dying in thier sleep or even rising from their beds to go on a mindless rampage after falling under the influence of whatever it is they're seeing.
Some time later the party is approached again by the noble's agent... though this time they're dishevelled, paranoid, and have obviously been running for their life for some days. They explain that their employer is up to something wicked, they don't know what, but its got something to do with the old abbey and the visions and its only going to get worse if they're not stopped.
Setup: Consigned to the dustbin of history nearly a century ago, the soothsayer Tirman Houndstongue was known in his day for producing prophecies as cryptic as they were accurate. The "Houndstongue Harkenings" were required readings for mystics of the day, until the new writings suddenly stopped as most presumed that the diviner had simply dropped dead in one of his famously fevered writing sessions. One by one the events hinted at by Tirman's writings were divined and came to pass, and the once famous fortuneteller fell into obscurity.
The truth is far stranger than what is remembered: After years of seeminly innocuous prophecies Houndstongue started predicting the end of the world, and in fear of his widely circulated ramblings causing a panic the church censored his writings and imprisoned him in an isolated monestary that only a select few knew about. For the rest of his life Tirman rambled on about all the horrors that would befall the world during the end times.. and then kept on rambling after he died, seeminly animated by the NEED to keep pronouncing the end of days, pausing only to talk about the terrible fates that would befal his captors and how their actions were all for not. Less than a decade later an outbreak of plague struck the monestary, leaving the corpse forgotten in its cell.
Forgotten, except for a certain noble by the name of Vandermyr , who's family's rise to prominence came about as party of Tirman's prophecies. Though born generations after the oracle's apparent death, Vandermyr developed an obsession with Houndstongue's writings thinking that they didn't just apply to specific events but spoke of underlying patterns in fate. After lucking into increasingly successive business ventures, Vandermyr bent his family's resources to discovering lost scraps of Tirman lore, eventually stumbling into the truth of his abduction, and his eventual resting place, buying the estate nearby.
Sending multiple groups to seek out scraps of unpublished prophecy under the guise of monsterhunting, Vandermyr was DELIGHTED to encounter the recitating cadaver of his idol once the party reported back, going so far as to visit the monastery himself before commanding servants to drag Tirman's remains back to his manor. In long hours spent listening at the corpse's feet comes to a revelation: that the apocalyptic ravings are just cryptic metaphor, misunderstood by the narrow minded churchfolk, and that surely they would lead him, and the Vandermyr family to rise to even greater heights.
Further Adventures:
Vandermyr is an idiot and he's kickstarted the end of days, which makes the party atleast partially culpable. It might take them a while to connect the auspicious signs to clues left in the dungeon, but once they figure it out they'll need to break into Vandemyr's manor for answers. Thankfully they're not alone in this task, as despite being a mouthpiece for otherworldy forces and stone dead for well over a hundred years, Tirman's been trying to prophecy AROUND the death of the world, it'll just take the party a bit of champion level bullshit decoding to figure out how.
Unbenknownsed to anyone including him, Tirman's prophecies were delivered by an extradimensional horror with power over predestination known as the Nigh-Tyrant. From its home amid the carcasses of devoured worlds this pisonic predator would weave itself into the causality of a realm it wished to devour, influencing events to allow it to travel between realms and rampage as it pleased. The problem with fighting this entity is that its consciousness is made up in-part of all the guilt and madness wracked oracles it used in the past, meaning its ability to predict the party's actions is manifold. Whats more, it commands those lesser nightmares that have come to dwell in the aftermath of its apocalypse, and can dispatch them to the party's world through various hidden means.
You can't go around subverting fate and not expect the gods to get involved. Istusis or other fate-warping gods are a lightly choice for late-game party benefactors, and the heroes may find their journey altered at several points to steer them in the needed direction before actual intervention takes place.
If you need to further up the stakes, consider having the belayed end of days get the attention of the outergod with dominon over failed apocalypses who senses the titan's death like a vulture on the wind
Villain: End Without Rest, Outer God of Ceaseless Apocalypse
How many times can a thing break before it can break no more?
The mummified corpse of a titanic dragon defies all laws of scale and destiny to sink its teeth into a bleeding sun, a fleet of ships like clockwork locusts stripmine a world for spare parts, angels gone feral parade down the road while scourging their flesh singing songs of the coming endtimes in a thousand witless tongues. All these things and more are the being known as “End without Rest”, an engine of destruction that wanders the multiverse without aim, a nomadic Armageddon looking to impose itself on the mythologies of other worlds.
End without Rest is a god for those who are convinced that final days are upon them, whether that be doom preaching madmen, the scions of crumbling empire, or religious fanatics convinced they alone will be saved. It is the impulse to ignore your own safety and the safety of others, and to instead heap all the good things of life upon a pyre and watch them burn. End without Rest senses these pyres like signal beacons, and descends on the arsonist’s innocent world to make good on all their fears.
Adventure Hooks:
Exploring the ruins of a now forgotten city leads the party into conflict with a series of strange, rust-covered automotons that seem to have been haunting the site since its fall. Pushing deeper, they find the machines defending the wreck of a long grounded astral ship, with the surrounding evidence pointing to the city’s inhabitants having died defending against an army of these constructs a thousand years ago.
A few generations ago, a charismatic priest found a book of prophecies, and took his followers out to the badlands where they could be safe from the cleansing fire that was about to destroy their homeland. The apocalypse is now overdue, and the priest’s followers have gone a bit squirly in the meantime, living off the land in pious austerity and attacking travellers and native inhabitants of the badlands for supplies. The most recent head of their congregation has decided to take a more active approach to prophecy, and has begun a series of grisly raids with the intent of triggering the endtimes by orchestrating his own omens.
The stars bleed, the horizon seems to burn, and the party have to run for cover as a falling star makes its way directly towards their camp. Returning to the smoking crater they find a Planetar angel gasping for life, heavenly light bleeding from innumerable battle wounds. With their last breath, they recount their battle with a fallen angel intent on beginning the end of the world by blowing a sacred horn. This plannetar gave its life to avert this crisis, and with their last ounce of strength to knock the horn from their foe’s hands and sent it crashing to earth. Now the party must race to find where the second “falling star” landed before their fallen adversary completes their final mission.
Background: The origins of End without Rest stand as a testament for what happens when gods and mortals meddle with the ineffable nature of fate. It begins with a petty war god watching as a world reached the predestined end of its mythology, it sun devoured by a great beast to usher in the final age of darkness and dissolution that would spell that realm’s end. This wargod was not the type to see a whole world full of people and weep at the futility of all, or rush in to try and set fate onto a different course.... she was the type to see something that could destroy pantheons and start thinking about how it could be weaponized.
End without Rest is the result of all her efforts: The body of an apocalyptic dragon, mummified from its long time in the void, pulled from the dead realms and reawakened with a supernova burning in its belly. Around this monstrosity she set a legion of constructs to maintain, defend, and reign the beast, answerable only to her. She wielded her new weapon with glee and with pride, carving out an empire of worlds that bowed to hear in fear of the apocaylpse she could bring down on them... until she fucked up and brought it down on herself instead.
With its master consumed and her divine fire burning in its furnace of a heart, there was nothing to stop End without Rest from growing, of reaching the critical mass of its own godhood, of moving from world to world ending them based on instinct alone. This process has repeated so long that the remnants of other apocalypses have got swept up in the apocalypse engine’s wake: routed legions of the endtimes pledging themselves to its service, orphaned harbingers following it in hopes of finding meaning after their task is complete.
Titles: The Apocalypse Engine, Suneater, the unready end
Signs: Confused visions of the enditmes, animals going feral, objects rusting breaking or unraveling before they should.
Symbols: The Jaws of a beast (often black, often skeletal) closing around a red sun. Iron locusts
