The April sun awakens the sleepy hamlet of Dunshore.

Inside the Lazy Sow Inn, an old man wipes the bar he’s cleaned more than a thousand times. In one corner, an achingly beautiful girl of 17 quietly sweeps the floor.

In another corner, three adventurers break their fast.

Randarr, the dwarf, angrily saws a thick ham steak. Truth be told, he was rarely angry, yet most perceived his manners that way.

Trayla, the elf, serenely nibbles a waycake while contemplating the mass of green leaves on her plate.

Harper Lown, the human, slowly downs honeyed breakfast ale. It tingles his throat and crisps his senses. It has been a long week…

The homey scene shatters as a child, no more than ten, crashes into the inn. Eyes wild and seized by a great panic, he stops in the middle of the hall gulping air.

“Pray child,” cries the old innkeeper, “what is wrong?”

“Goblins… orcs have assaulted the wall in the west quarter! It is ablaze even now!” responded the terrified boy.

“May the goddess protect us!” screamed the girl as the broom fell from her trembling hands.

The adventurers look at each other. There is a pause…

From out of the ether, there is a disembodied voice, which says in an annoyed lilt, “Do you go there?”

The scene is broken.

Back to Reality

The inn shimmers away. In its place is a murky table littered with Mountain Dew bottles, Domino’s pizza boxes, Dorito bags, and dice… lots of dice.

Anyone whoever has been a Dungeon Master or a Game Master has uttered those four words in a moment of frustration. You’ve painted the scene. You’ve given the players a hook, but they don’t take the bait.

So, you break the scene wondering if they will join the game. Why didn’t one of the players have their character stand up and shout, “To the wall, my friends! We must defend the town!”

It’s easy for the GM to think the players don’t want to play or are just being difficult. But before we jump to conclusions, let’s examine this situation a bit.

First, the players may not have honed their improvising skills to a certain level yet. It honestly may not occur to them that the ball is in their court and they need to go to the wall to fight the goblins. So, it is our job as Game Masters to help.

Taking the example above, it is a common way many gaming sessions begin. But, it doesn’t really help the characters.

By beginning in a quiet relaxed setting, the players usually think they are supposed to talk or plan something or just have conversation in their roles. So when the action hook begins, there will be some confusion.

Also, players can experience choice paralysis when presented with a chaotic scene after a quiet opening. Should they protect the innkeeper and his granddaughter? Should they go fight? Should they flee the city to fetch reinforcements from the fort two miles away?

Start in the Middle of Things

To avoid this confusion and keep the game intact as much as possible, begin in medias res.

In medias res simply means, “in the middle of things.” It is a literary term for starting your story in the middle of the action.

Instead of starting in the inn, place your characters on the wall in the middle of the attack. Give them no choice but to defend themselves and the town.

Don’t worry about railroading. Asking the dreaded, “Do you go there?” is railroading. Starting the session in the middle of combat is a device that increases excitement.

Action Helps the Players

Commencing in action also helps the characters bond and gives the players a shared experience right from the beginning.

Once the battle is over, present players with choices. You’ll find they are in a better position to act, and the story should be rolling by this point.

Never say, “Do you go there?” Think ahead. Help the players understand how to contribute to moving the story forward. Try in medias res. You won’t regret it, and your players will love it.