TOPIC: R4 2025: SWADE DeadLands - Redemption, Resurrected

Howdy Everyone,

The online character creator is open for the upcoming Deadlands game!

It's pre-loaded with the stats, edges and hinderances of the original SWADE book, the Deadlands sourcebook and the Companion, similar to D&D beyond.
savaged.us/campaigns/2952-c7d8715f-0837-45b2-00b1-4ac01d92d5a6

Start characters off at Novice 1 for now, but there will be quite a few advances during the campaign, if you survive!

If you need any help, drop me a message or check in during the sessions.

Happy rootin' and tootin'!
Ye Haw

Hey everyone,

The reckoners gone n' took my sense of time, and I'm gonna be on holiday on the 19th.

If anyone would be so kind as to host a one-shot for week 1, I'd be much obliged (extra benny for whoever steps up )

Thanks, and sorry for my poor sense in picking holidays!

Always happy to run something - unless a new DM wants to give it a go

Hi All

I'm not going to be there this Thursday, got a meeting for an upcoming scout camp.

Tom

Episode I: The Dirt Don’t Lie

A Tale from Redemption, The Weird West

A hellish screech and a flash of strange green light tore a train's passengers clean outta the world of the livin’, leavin’ a heap of bodies and four poor souls buried like yesterday’s bad news. But the dead didn’t stay down long.

Mana Steel, Smithy Wesson, Two-Gun Kid, and a silent but fearsome Red Indian warrior clawed their way out of hastily dug graves behind the town of Redemption, scarin’ the hell outta ol’ Cletus the Gravedigger, who took one look at Smithy’s shootin’ and lit out for town, sans his prized shovel—now blessed with a bullet hole.

Shaken but upright, the posse helped each other from their coffins and took a moment to “salvage” some belongings from their fellow passengers—Two-Gun nabbed a fine pocket watch, Mana pocketed a hand-fan.

Sheriff Reyes rode in to sort things out, only to find himself disarmed and snared in a blink by fast lead and foul magic. Fortunately, a few calm words from the warrior cooled things down. The town preacher, Father Rose, proved they weren’t Harrowed, just 'Revived', as the locals came to call ’em. Reyes, not one to trust easy, put ‘em under the watchful eye of Deputy Smithe, taskin’ them to investigate the wreck.

After Sheriff Reyes handed the posse over to Deputy Smithe, the lawman took 'em straight to the abandoned train to see what they could remember. While pokin’ through the wreckage, Mana stumbled upon a leather-bound briefcase tucked beneath a scorched bench seat. Inside lay an interesting and heavy item—cold to the touch and hummin’ with a quiet menace. She slipped it into her luggage without a word. At the time, it didn’t seem to shine like trouble—but fate would soon see to that. The unnamed warrior looked for her stowed horse, to find it as missin' as the train's driver.

But rather than search for clues, the posse searched for valuables. Two-Gun slipped away a lady’s fine luggage and an invitation addressed to a Lady Ereditch. Mana retrieved her belongings—and with it, that same curious, heavy artifact. None of the others saw it, and soon enough, neither did she.

That night, after exhuming more poor souls wrongly buried, the Revived holed up in the saloon—only to be roused by the Deputy with strange news: more Revived had awoken. A portly gentleman and his frightened wife, still shaken and witless.

No memories came back, so instead, Smithe led the crew out into the badlands to track the Origami Gang—paper-bodied sons o’ bitches that rob through books and vanish without a trace.

The posse found a book sittin’ in the middle of nowhere. It sprang open to reveal four bandits and a pack of coyotes. But the gang didn’t stand a chance. Two-Gun’s pistols sang death, and Mana—makin’ a devil’s deal—took on the form of an alpha wolf and sent the coyotes scatterin’. The last bandit died from sheer terror.

When the dust cleared, the bounty was claimed—but Mana noticed something missin’. That heavy, strange item she’d picked up? Gone. Not stolen. Not misplaced. Just… vanished.

Back in town, they found the wife screamin’—her husband had walked out into the desert like a man possessed. They followed his trail north, into cursed lands where the wind don’t blow and even the sun seems scared.

It wasn’t long before Smithe started coughin’ dust and sweatin’ out his insides. That’s when they saw it: a Duster, slitherin’ in like a heat mirage with more of its kind behind it.

And the desert… was real hungry.

Episode 2: Dusters and Dust-Ups

The Revived took to the trail, chasing down a lead on a missing fellow from their ghost rock-blasted train ride—the portly gent who hadn’t been seen since their mysterious resurrection. The tracks led them deep into the scorched wilds—Duster territory. Cute as prairie bunnies at first glance, these critters drain every drop of water from their prey… and Deputy Smythe was their latest victim, left a husk in the dirt.

The posse didn't take kindly to that.

Two-Gun lit up the desert with lead, felling the fuzzballs by the dozen. Mana took a darker route, striking a Deal with the Devil to summon a geyser, luring the Dusters. The mad scientist, quick on the uptake, let loose a makeshift waterbomb, finishing the rest in a splashy finale.

Their triumph, however, called out something worse.

From the sands rose a dust witch—more spirit than flesh. She seemed to recognize Mana, calling her “another chosen of the Harbingers,” and handed her a green gem pulsing with strange energy. “Run,” she said, and the posse obliged—on foot, and by a bizarre pedal-powered contraption, hot on their heels.

Two-Gun dropped a gun-toting Duster in a last stand, and soon the posse came across their quarry—the portly man, long dead. On him: the missing ritual dagger, blade bundled in a sketch of an Aztec temple and sacrifice drawn in blood and charcoal.

Returning to Redemption with the bodies, the posse quelled a restless mob protesting their presence. They concealed the truth of Smythe’s death to the poor townsfolk and informed Sheriff Reyes, who took to the saloon to break the news to the grieving widow.

Mana, ever the schemer, rallied the townsfolk into throwing a party to lift spirits. The snake oil salesman hawked his wares with his usual flair, and Two-Gun visited one of the feuding general stores—buying up all things flammable and volatile, as one does.

The search for transportation gave them a lead to a man known as Crazy Pete, while Mana picked up a tomahawk laced with rare Ghost Steel. Later, she attempted to comfort the widow... and failed. The woman left, silent and alone.

As night fell and the saloon filled with folk and drink, the party took note: the bar stayed stocked, no matter how much was poured.

Then the music stopped.

A man in black strolled through the doors, bearing the sigil of the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Sheriff Reyes flanked him, his face drawn with tension.

The Pinkerton looked the posse over and said just four words:

“We need to talk.”