Opening Scene for Something Wicked This Way Comes

Every campaign starts at a particular time. Mine usually start after blood has been drawn.

I've always written out the first scene of a campaign. I start campaigns in media res, which is a fancy phrase that means "in the middle of things". To start in the middle requires a beginning. That beginning requires some exposition. Said exposition may require the PCs to sit quietly while the opening scene of the campaign is played out. Asking a player to have his character sit quietly while all sorts of shenanigans are going on is an impossibility. Writing out the opening scene tends to save me from players wanting to act or say something after the first sentence is read.

When the exposition of the opening scene is done, the characters become player characters. At that moment, the PCs can start interacting with the game world.

Plus, no one wants to listen to a GM as he mumbles through an entire page of exposition. It's easier to read.

Here is what I have for the opening scene for Deadlands: Reloaded: Something Wicked This Way Comes.

"It’s Monday, June 30, 1879. You’re on a train heading for the town of Dark Horse, Kansas for whatever reason. It’s midafternoon, and you’ll reach town before sundown. Most trains don’t run at night anymore. There are too many bandits and . . . other things out there.

There are several travelers in the one passenger car with you. The only one of note is a slovenly and drunk priest.

The train slows to take a curve, and you see a group of masked riders appear from a thicket of trees. They ride hard for the train. You’re expecting a classic train robbery, so you start making your usual preparations. However, one of the riders, a well dressed individual and obviously the leader, throws a small wooden box through an open window. The box hits with a thud, whatever is in it must be heavy.

The rider shouts, “Father O’Henry, prepare to meet to your Maker!”

Then gunfire erupts as the riders start peppering the passenger car with bullets. This is obviously not a simple robbery.

Suddenly, there is a whooshing sound from the small wooden box. Smoke boils out of the box and your nostrils are assaulted by the stench of sulfur. Out of the smoke steps a creature of nightmare and lunacy. It’s dressed like a cowboy, all in black: black cowboy hat, black cowboy boots, and a long, black duster. It grips a wicked pair of black shooting irons in its hands. Whatever is wearing those accoutrements, though, is no cowboy, or even human. At least eight feet tall, it stoops to avoid hitting the ceiling; it has green skin, oversize nose and ears, and a forked tongue that hangs out of its mouth.

The creature aims its two guns at the slovenly and drunk priest. Blasts of hellfire leap from both barrels and hit the holy man in the chest. He goes down in a heap.

[Time for Fear Checks and let’s Deal Initiative!]"


Tim