Ahhh...all cliches have that seed of truth...and weem has given it to us!
You all start in a....
- Thread starter kitsune9
- Start date
"You start to go to a tavern...but there is a private party being held inside, and you're not invited.
And if you have any doubts about that, ask the wall of meat named Tiny whose frame is overflowing the boundaries of the door.
So there you stand before the barred portal, seen only by the nighttime eyes of the heavens...and those who stand enshrouded by shadows.
And in this neighborhood, that means a lot of eyes...
Somewhere in the distance, you hear a scream!"
The exact wording of the scream sets the tone of the adventure- "Thief!" "Murder!" or "Rape!" or a general "Help!" will warrant one kind of response, while "Fire!" or "Raiders!" will initiate a different kind.
And if you have any doubts about that, ask the wall of meat named Tiny whose frame is overflowing the boundaries of the door.
So there you stand before the barred portal, seen only by the nighttime eyes of the heavens...and those who stand enshrouded by shadows.
And in this neighborhood, that means a lot of eyes...
Somewhere in the distance, you hear a scream!"
The exact wording of the scream sets the tone of the adventure- "Thief!" "Murder!" or "Rape!" or a general "Help!" will warrant one kind of response, while "Fire!" or "Raiders!" will initiate a different kind.
Quartz
Hero
You were on your way back from market, pockets full of gold from the sale of your parents' grain. You are thus not prepared for the ruin / enemy army / whatever which greets you as you come in sight of the village.
This gives the PCs their starting money, a reason for sticking together, and a backstory.
This gives the PCs their starting money, a reason for sticking together, and a backstory.
Quartz
Hero
Ah yes, Michael Moorcock, wasn't it?
Shades of Green
Explorer
You all start on a wide, sandy beach. Wooden debris litter the sand, reminding you of yesterday's terrible storm. The sky, however, is now perfectly clear, the storm all gone; your ship is also gone, sunk beneath the waves. You, the lucky survivors, find yourself among the ship's remains that have made it to the shore: many planks, half a mast, several torn ropes, a big barrel and a few chests. Beyond the sandy beach you can see the outline of unfamiliar trees, and you can hear the chirping of weird birds and, possibly other animals.
What do you do?
What do you do?
Moorcock or less...
I'm a big fan of MM, and because most of my players aren't, I've been free to plunder his imagination to fuel FRPG games.
I've used a variation on his mist-shrouded Black Ship that appears on the beach to take the party to shores unknown; the Ghost Women searching for their mates; elements of his Bastable stories have graced my supers set in the world of Space: 1889.
If you're going to steal, steal from the best!
Here's basically how I started my last D&D campaign. It was inspired by a combination of the cover art from a Stormbringer RPG supplement (Slaves of Fate) and Kodo's theme song to The Hunted.
"You're on the Isle of ________ for a great celebration- the wedding (admittedly, one of political convenience) of the children of two great warring nations, so to seal the treaty of non-aggression between them.
After days of feasts and fetes, the celebration winds down, and it is time to go home. Along with other celebrants, you board a ship to take you back to the mainland- the first step in your long journey home.
About midway on your 3 day voyage, the spy on the mainmast spots a storm on the horizon...an impossible storm, flickering from within with bolts of multicolored lightning. Covering miles and miles of sky, it roils towards your ship against the flow of the wind that fills your sails. Witch-weather! And at its fore, like the tip of an arrow, a ship. A mastless, black ship.
In no time at all, it is upon you, beside you...and its inhuman crew is launching grappling lines. You're being boarded!"
The raiders are large, catlike humanoids, like no being you have ever seen or heard of in the world. They launch wave after wave of attackers, and after a heroic struggle, take the ship. Those who surrendered are killed. The mortally wounded are toyed with, then killed. The ones who resisted but were ultimately captured are drugged, then dragged belowdecks.
"You wake, your head throbbing with the aftereffects of some drug. The sun is above you, burning your naked (!) flesh, and your back rests upon hot sand. Your hands are bound. The smoky smell of slow roasted meat wafts up your nostrils, origins unknown.
'Ahhhh...good to see you stir, pinky!' a growling voice says to you. Rough, furry hands yank you up from the ground without effort.
You look around- besides you stand several other people you recognize as fellow passengers, all in a similar state to your own.
'Pinkies! Because of your brave efforts, you have been granted an honor! You are to be set free on this island- the private hunting preserve of our Emperor. In 2 days time, he will arrive here, and will hunt you for his amusement. You will know the hunt has begun when you hear the drums. To be fair, and in honor of your bravery in battle, your gear has been scattered about the island. If you run and fight, you may even win your freedom. If you do not, your fate will be the same as his...'
His great, furry hand points 20 yards down the beach, where a small humanoid body has been placed on a spit over a wood & charcoal fire...
Behind you, a quick motion with a knife- or is it a claw- severs your bindings, and you are given a shove towards the treeline.
'Run, pinkies! RUN! Hah hah hah haaaaah!'
The PCs got to run into the island's foliage and I let the players discuss their options. Let them search for their gear. Let them find some of it.
Then, after a while, I hit the "Play" button on my CD player so that Kodo's theme from "The Hunted" burst out of my system's speakers. (It is a pure piece of drum music in the tyco style...very impressive and thundering. The players actually acted as if they were being hunted & under time pressure- voices raised and stressed, shorter tempers, and the like.)
"You're on the Isle of ________ for a great celebration- the wedding (admittedly, one of political convenience) of the children of two great warring nations, so to seal the treaty of non-aggression between them.
After days of feasts and fetes, the celebration winds down, and it is time to go home. Along with other celebrants, you board a ship to take you back to the mainland- the first step in your long journey home.
About midway on your 3 day voyage, the spy on the mainmast spots a storm on the horizon...an impossible storm, flickering from within with bolts of multicolored lightning. Covering miles and miles of sky, it roils towards your ship against the flow of the wind that fills your sails. Witch-weather! And at its fore, like the tip of an arrow, a ship. A mastless, black ship.
In no time at all, it is upon you, beside you...and its inhuman crew is launching grappling lines. You're being boarded!"
The raiders are large, catlike humanoids, like no being you have ever seen or heard of in the world. They launch wave after wave of attackers, and after a heroic struggle, take the ship. Those who surrendered are killed. The mortally wounded are toyed with, then killed. The ones who resisted but were ultimately captured are drugged, then dragged belowdecks.
"You wake, your head throbbing with the aftereffects of some drug. The sun is above you, burning your naked (!) flesh, and your back rests upon hot sand. Your hands are bound. The smoky smell of slow roasted meat wafts up your nostrils, origins unknown.
'Ahhhh...good to see you stir, pinky!' a growling voice says to you. Rough, furry hands yank you up from the ground without effort.
You look around- besides you stand several other people you recognize as fellow passengers, all in a similar state to your own.
'Pinkies! Because of your brave efforts, you have been granted an honor! You are to be set free on this island- the private hunting preserve of our Emperor. In 2 days time, he will arrive here, and will hunt you for his amusement. You will know the hunt has begun when you hear the drums. To be fair, and in honor of your bravery in battle, your gear has been scattered about the island. If you run and fight, you may even win your freedom. If you do not, your fate will be the same as his...'
His great, furry hand points 20 yards down the beach, where a small humanoid body has been placed on a spit over a wood & charcoal fire...
Behind you, a quick motion with a knife- or is it a claw- severs your bindings, and you are given a shove towards the treeline.
'Run, pinkies! RUN! Hah hah hah haaaaah!'
The PCs got to run into the island's foliage and I let the players discuss their options. Let them search for their gear. Let them find some of it.
Then, after a while, I hit the "Play" button on my CD player so that Kodo's theme from "The Hunted" burst out of my system's speakers. (It is a pure piece of drum music in the tyco style...very impressive and thundering. The players actually acted as if they were being hunted & under time pressure- voices raised and stressed, shorter tempers, and the like.)
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kitsune9
Adventurer
Clever Weem!
kitsune9
Adventurer
Okay, my turn again!
You start looking out into the city. From your view, you can see the splendors of the majestic city from the lowest quarter of the slums to the spires of the nobles who rule from their lofty towers. The only thing marring your view of the city is the heavy iron bars that block your way. It's been a few days since your arrest and being thrown in prison.
Trumped up charges, falsified evidence, and no chance to defend yourself. Such was your lot and the fate of others sharing the same cell with you. You, and the other unfortunates like yourself await the inevitable for your so-called "crimes"--death. Your execution is to be held tomorrow and you can hear the gallows being mended in the courtyard far below. You lament your fate and curse the gods for such terrible luck. As you move away from the view of the city, the door to your cell begins to click as the keys to the heavy lock turns.
Suddenly, your cell is flooded with light as a cloaked and armed figure steps in and......
You start looking out into the city. From your view, you can see the splendors of the majestic city from the lowest quarter of the slums to the spires of the nobles who rule from their lofty towers. The only thing marring your view of the city is the heavy iron bars that block your way. It's been a few days since your arrest and being thrown in prison.
Trumped up charges, falsified evidence, and no chance to defend yourself. Such was your lot and the fate of others sharing the same cell with you. You, and the other unfortunates like yourself await the inevitable for your so-called "crimes"--death. Your execution is to be held tomorrow and you can hear the gallows being mended in the courtyard far below. You lament your fate and curse the gods for such terrible luck. As you move away from the view of the city, the door to your cell begins to click as the keys to the heavy lock turns.
Suddenly, your cell is flooded with light as a cloaked and armed figure steps in and......
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