Behind the Die: How My Own Campaigns Shape My Published Work

Behind the Die by Charlie Stayton 

When I sit down to design a new adventure for publication, I don’t start with a blank slate. I start with the echoes of dice rolling across my table, the laughter of players debating their next move, and the unexpected choices that turn my carefully plotted sessions upside down. My own campaigns—messy, chaotic, joyful, and unpredictable—are the heartbeat of everything I publish.

The Campaign Table as a Testing Ground

Every Dungeon Master knows that players rarely follow the path you lay in front of them. That’s not a frustration; it’s a gift. My campaigns become a living laboratory where I watch how plots unravel, how clues are pieced together (or hilariously overlooked), and how encounters spark creativity at the table. When an NPC I imagined as a minor tavernkeeper suddenly becomes the star of the show, that’s a note for me: players respond to character-driven storytelling. Those lessons migrate directly into my published work.

From Improvisation to Structure

Improvised campaign moments often evolve into structured mechanics or story beats in my modules. A throwaway mystery about a missing ring becomes a fully fleshed-out murder investigation. A random shipwreck on the fly morphs into a carefully designed nautical adventure with cutaway maps and ghostly encounters. By seeing what grabs my players’ attention, I can refine those moments into polished, replayable experiences for others.

The Player’s Perspective Matters

When you publish for a broad audience, it’s easy to get caught up in lore dumps and elaborate worldbuilding. Running live campaigns keeps me grounded in the player’s perspective. They want drama, agency, and the thrill of discovery. The campaign table reminds me that adventures don’t need to explain every detail of history—they need to leave enough space for players to fill in the blanks with their own creativity.

Published Adventures as “Polished Memories”

In many ways, my adventures are polished memories of game nights past. They carry the fingerprints of my players—their clever ideas, their stubborn detours, and their emotional reactions. When readers play through something like Murder at Marrowwind Manor or Shadows of Coexistence, they’re not just getting my story. They’re stepping into a narrative forged by many minds around my table, distilled into a form others can now enjoy.

Why This Matters

Behind the Die isn’t just about publishing modules—it’s about sharing the joy of collaborative storytelling. By weaving my own campaigns into my writing, I ensure that my work doesn’t just read like an adventure. It feels like one, alive with the same surprises, tensions, and laughter that have kept me rolling dice for years.