Wraith: the Oblivion is, at its core, a story of what becomes of a person when everything she had - and understood - is rudely taken from her by death. What does a person do once the rules have changed, and she's been placed into a truly horrible situation?

Many such souls give up or give in, and some are unfortunate enough to have no real chance to shine - except dully, as a coin. But those with the strength, conviction and luck {or was that Fate?} to become long-lasting player characters are eventually given a choice: they must either find a way to balance their new "lives" with their old, or else hew closely to what they left behind, or what lies in front of them.

That's the central focus of the game, right there: how to keep going when all is lost. Everything else {The Hierarchy, the Guilds, the Oblivion War, Dark Kingdoms, etc.} is just there to play into the character's goals, or create adversity to them. As long as you keep that in mind, you can have a great Wraith Chronicle with hardly any of it there, and you can have a great Wraith Chronicle with all of it there.

Now, however, the tables have turned - and harshly so. The rules have changed once more, to the point where the world the characters exist in now - the Shadowlands - clearly wants to destroy them. The illusion is gone, the distractions are crumbling, and all that is truly left are the characters, themselves.

So...

Give the Characters {and Players} What they Want

That should go without saying: they are the stars of this particular show, and should be given the chance to have some degree of resolution. There is no guarantee that they'll take it, or that their attempts to resolve things will work out, of course. But the character's internal drives should be worked into the End Time Chronicle, somehow.

Wraith: the Oblivion makes this easier, in some respects, because the keys to a character's resolution are written quite clearly upon that character's sheet. Now more than ever, Passions are the key, and there should be something in an Oblivion Chronicle to ensure that each character gets the chance to resolve her main Passion. At the very least, the character should have a chance to come to terms with it, if complete, capital-R Resolution is impossible.

That said, characters are a lot more than dots on a page. Any Wraith who's been played for enough time doubtless has a number of other goals, ideas, schemes and hopes that aren't reflected in their Passions. Take a good stock of where these are at, and find some way to work them into the weave in a way that makes sense.

And don't forget that players are not their characters. Maybe one player doesn't want to have her Wraith's main Passion resolved, with or without a capital R? Maybe she likes the fact that the Wraith is always having to deal with the problems created by it? If so, don't force it on her: find something else that she does want some sort of conclusion to, and use it, instead.

Make the Chronicle Fit the Characters {and Players}

Then there's the shape of the Oblivion Chronicle, itself, to consider. If the characters' own drama is at the foreground, then what should be going on around them?

The best way to answer that question is to answer two other questions: "What sort of Chronicles have you been running, all along?" and, more importantly, "What do your players want?"

If your Troupe is used to personal affairs and psychodrama, having their characters suddenly uprooted to go on some grand adventure might not please everyone. Likewise, if the characters have been involved in very active struggles against Spectres, rival Guilds or another Dark Kingdom's forces, having them hunker down and wait out The End might prove incredibly boring.

On the other hand, there's something to be said for doing something different. If the characters are heavily involved in creepy political machinations with backroom rivals, then having to go on an "extended errand" with the same people might be an intriguing climax. And being stuck in a crumbling Citadel with those same people might do the same thing.

But, again, remember that the players' desires should be taken into high consideration. If they're likely to be bored or uninspired, or - worse - feel nothing for the Scenario at all, then you probably shouldn't spring it on them.

Don't Forget The Big Themes

We said, earlier, that Wraith: the Oblivion is a story of what becomes of a person when everything she had - and understood - is rudely taken from her by death. And playing out from the awful situation she finds herself in are the two main themes of Wraith: Horror and Hope.

Horror - Out of all the games that White Wolf ever made, Wraith was the only one that really approached the notion of being about horror. Not only was a realm of terror and fear just one step beyond the Shadowlands, lurking in the Tempest, but its dark agents were everywhere around your character, at all times. And if that wasn't bad enough, then having to deal with a shard of that darkness inside yourself - the intelligent, inner adversary trying to destroy you, or make you destroy yourself - was the brutal, constant reminder that you are doomed.

Well, as bad as all that was... things are now much, much worse. Oblivion was always feeding away at the Underworld, but leisurely so. That time is past, and whatever checks and balances It had on its hunger are gone. Now is the time of the devouring, when all stops are pulled out, and everything must go.

What are the characters most afraid of? The great Army of Oblivion crashing down on their Necropolis? All their friends and allies being lost to the Darkness, within or without? Seeing their loved ones threatened as the Skinlands are threatened by Oblivion? Or losing control over their own souls?

Find out the shape of that fear, and make it the crux of the Chronicle's action.

Hope - The flip side of Wraith's coin, Hope is what keeps Wraiths hanging onto their miserable circumstances. Hope of things getting better, or at least no worse. Hope of promotion, or power. Hope of escape, or possibly even Transcendence. Hope of hope, itself.

So what do you do when Doomsday rears its head, and Oblivion threatens to take all that hope away? What does a Chronicle become when everything that the characters have worked for, and towards, is crushed underfoot by the primal darkness? Can they still hang onto their hopes and dreams, or do they have to have to abandon them all in their mad scramble for higher ground?

Find out what they'll continue to fight for, rather than just against, and make that the brass ring of the climax, or conclusion.

Avoid Railroading the Characters, When Possible

Now, this may be difficult, given the nature of the End Times. When the entire world is collapsing around you, the number of pathways - clear or obscured - dwindle rather quickly, and if it's run or die, then non-suicidal characters have little choice but to take the few options presented to them. And this style of presenting a story cannot really be called anything but railroading.

That said, there varying degrees of being railroaded:

* Avoid having super NPCs come in and tell the characters what to do, or make them do it.

* Avoid having the same NPCs save the day - at all: this is the characters' chance to stand or fall, not anyone else's.

* Avoid leaving a massive macguffin laying around for the players to find and use to take to the next mandated step of the plot.

* For that matter, avoid mandates altogether, other than Oblivion's final rise: let things happen as best fits the Story, and the characters' reaction to it.

* Avoid situations where all the characters can do is watch things happen, whether between NPCs or all by themselves up in a high tower.

* Avoid relying on sweeping panoramic views of what's going on, except in key moments, too: concentrate on what's going on in the characters' immediate area, so that the action is kept personal, except for those brief moments when you can pull the curtain back to show how bad things actually are.

And in the end, or towards it, respect any player's decision to have her character sit down and let it happen. In Wraith, the ability to choose when one surrenders to the inevitable is one of the few freedoms a character has. So if a player thinks her Wraith just wouldn't go on, or no longer has the will to, then don't goad her player on with obviously artificial reasons, or save her bacon with a fudged die roll, timely rescue or "lucky break."

Just let her go, and see if the player wants to play a bit part, or help coordinate the chaos from there on out.