One of the questions I get asked most often is surprisingly simple:
“How much prep do you actually do before a session?”
The honest answer?
Less than I used to.
That probably sounds strange coming from someone who loves worldbuilding, campaign design, and collecting maps, books, miniatures, and terrain. But over the last year or so I’ve realized that good prep isn’t about creating more material – it’s about creating the right material.
The players are going to surprise me anyway.
My job isn’t to predict everything they’ll do. My job is to know the world well enough that I can respond naturally when they inevitably wander off the path I expected.
Here’s what my preparation process looks like before most game nights.
Step 1: Review the Last Session (if there was one)
I never begin by opening my adventure book.
Instead, I revisit what happened last session.
One of the biggest improvements to my workflow has been recording my games and uploading them into NotebookLM. It transcribes the session, removes most of the table chatter, and gives me a surprisingly accurate summary of everything that happened. (I will definitely write more about this whole process in a future blog post!)
Sometimes I’ll ask questions like:
- What NPC promises are still unresolved?
- Which plot hooks did the players ignore?
- What clues did they discover?
- Which character moments seemed important?
It’s remarkable how often players accidentally create future story threads that I hadn’t planned.
Those become some of the best parts of the campaign.
Step 2: Decide What Matters
I don’t prepare five different adventures.
I prepare the one that’s most likely.
If the party is halfway through Death House, that’s where my attention goes.
If they’re travelling toward the Misty Forest, I prepare the Misty Forest.
If there’s a reasonable chance they’ll completely derail the session…
… I spend a little time preparing that possibility too.
Experience has taught me that trying to prepare every possible outcome is impossible.
Preparing the most probable outcome – and understanding the world around it – is far more effective.
Step 3: Brainstorm with AI
This is probably where my process has changed the most of the last year.
I use AI extensively—not to replace my creativity, but to challenge it.
I’ll ask questions like:
- What motivations would this NPC realistically have?
- Give me five encounter ideas that fit this location.
- What clues would make this mystery more satisfying?
Most of the suggestions never make it into the game.
But one good idea out of twenty is worth the conversation.
It’s like having another experienced Dungeon Master sitting beside me while I prep.
Step 4: Build the Table Experience
This is the fun part.
I’ll gather whatever I need for the session:
- Maps
- Miniatures
- Terrain
- Handouts
- Letters
- Props
- Music
- Ambient sound
I’m a big believer that immersion comes from lots of small details rather than one expensive centerpiece.
A weathered letter with a wax seal.
A faded map.
The right soundtrack.
A miniature that perfectly represents the villain.
None of these things are essential.
Together, they make the world feel real.
Step 5: Review the Rules
Every session has one or two mechanics that deserve a refresher.
Maybe a monster with unusual legendary actions.
Maybe a spell interaction I haven’t seen in months.
Maybe grappling.
I don’t try to memorize every rule in D&D.
Instead, I identify the handful of rules that are likely to matter in my next game.
That dramatically reduces the number of pauses during play.
Step 6: Prepare to Improvise
This might sound contradictory after everything I’ve just described.
But the goal of preparation isn’t to avoid improvisation.
It’s to improvise with confidence.
Once I know:
- the NPCs,
- the locations,
- the motivations,
- the likely encounters,
- and the important rules,
I’m comfortable throwing my notes aside if the players decide to do something unexpected.
And they always do.
Some of our most memorable sessions have come from moments I never could have prepared for.
My Actual Prep Time
People often imagine Dungeon Masters spending twenty hours every week preparing.
Sometimes that’s true.
Usually it isn’t.
A typical weekly prep session for me looks something like this:
- 20 minutes reviewing last session
- 30 minutes brainstorming ideas
- 30 minutes preparing encounters
- 20 minutes gathering maps and assets
- 20 minutes reviewing rules
Roughly two hours.
Some weeks it’s less.
Some weeks—especially before major story arcs—it can be considerably more.
But consistency beats marathon prep sessions every time.
The Real Secret
The biggest lesson I’ve learned isn’t about AI.
It isn’t about terrain.
It isn’t about miniatures.
It isn’t even about preparation.
It’s about trusting your players.
Players don’t remember perfectly balanced encounters.
They don’t remember every stat block.
They remember impossible choices.
Unexpected victories.
Hilarious failures.
The NPC who somehow became their favourite character despite only appearing for five minutes.
That’s the magic we’re trying to create.
Everything else is just preparation for those moments.
What’s Next?
Over the next few months I’ll be sharing more behind-the-scenes looks at how I run games, the tools I’m experimenting with, AI workflows that have genuinely improved my prep, and lessons I’ve learned from both successful sessions and spectacular failures.
If you’re a Dungeon Master – or you’re thinking about becoming one – I hope some of these ideas help make your own game nights just a little easier to run.
And if your players completely derail your carefully prepared session next week…
Welcome to the club.
And lastly, what did I miss? If I’ve overlooked anything, please do share in the comments below!
Leave a Reply