Solving the Mystery You Didn’t Know You Created (A Guide to Adventure Brainstorming)

I wrote countless adventures for my campaigns, and I’ve tried a lot of different approaches to get the creative gears turning. One technique I keep coming back to is starting with random nodes. It’s not always where I begin, but there’s something freeing about letting the randomness take over and seeing where it leads. Brainstorming an adventure is like solving a mystery you didn’t know you created.

In this post, I’d like to walk you through how I use this method to brainstorm node-based adventures. It’s a process that’s worked for me, and whether you’re starting with a blank page or just looking for a fresh way to approach your storytelling, I think you’ll find it useful.

You can also find an application of this method in our brainstorming video:

Step 1: First Impressions & Themes

You’ve got your random nodes on the board. Don’t overthink it. Just look. What catches your eye first? That’s your Focal Point. It might be the shadowy NPC lurking in a corner or a location that feels like it’s begging for a secret to be uncovered. Whatever grabs your attention first, mark it. This is where we start.

Next, think about the feel of the nodes you’ve laid out. What threads do they suggest? Maybe they all seem to orbit around secrecy or power struggles. That’s the theme trying to come through. You don’t have to define it too much, just enough to give your mind something to latch onto as you keep going.

I think what’s important here is to move fast. You’re not solving the puzzle right now. You’re just laying the pieces on the table and seeing what stands out.

Step 2: Defining the Nodes

Now that you’ve got your focal point, it’s time to figure out what these nodes actually do.

Take each node, one at a time, and ask yourself a few questions to guide you. Don’t force the nodes into a storyline. You’re just exploring, seeing how these pieces fit together in the world you’re building.

What is this node’s place in the world?

Whether it’s a person, a building, or something abstract like a symbol or event, think about how this node fits into the world around it. What role does it play? Is it a force of change, a background presence, or a catalyst for conflict? How does it fit into the world, and what does it mean to those who encounter it?

What is this node’s drive?

Everything, even a place or an object, has some kind of drive. An NPC might be motivated by greed, revenge or loyalty, but a location can have its own pull—maybe it’s a fortress designed to keep something hidden, or a market that thrives on secrecy. What’s the underlying force behind this node? Whether it’s a character, a place, or an event, think about what it’s moving toward or resisting. This is what will shape its influence in the world and guide its role in the story.

What are the conflicts or stakes tied to this node?

Conflicts drive stories, and each node should have its own set of tensions. Maybe the NPC is caught between two rival factions, or the ancient ruins sit on a fault line, threatening to crumble at any moment. What happens if this node is ignored? What if it’s pushed too far? Every node should have some pressure built into it. It makes them active, gives them energy, and that energy will propel your story forward.

How does this node connect to the others?

I think this is where most of the magic happens. You start seeing the threads. Maybe that NPC knows something about the relic, or the tavern is where shady deals go down. Look for the natural connections, the things that just make sense. The goal here is to see where threads start to cross, where one node might impact another. Sometimes the connection is obvious, other times it’ll surprise you. Let that happen.

Here’s what I love about this whole process: instead of a plot, you’re creating a web. The nodes exist, and the players will find their way through them in ways you can’t predict. That’s the fun of it.

Step 3: Establishing Hooks

So now you’ve got your nodes laid out. You’ve got a sense of the world you’re building and the connections starting to form. But now it’s time to think about the players. How do they get pulled into this world you’re building?

Hooks are what get your players invested. They’re the invitations to the story, the reasons why the party will care about that NPC or why they’ll go after that mysterious artifact.

A hook can be created by responding to two simple questions:

What makes the players care?

Maybe it’s an NPC with a personal vendetta or a faction hiring them for a job. Maybe it’s a personal connection, an NPC with a shared history, or a faction that threatens something they hold dear. It could even be something as simple as curiosity: there’s a rumor about a cursed item, and the party wants to know if it’s true. The goal here is to plant a seed. Once they’re curious, they’re in.

What’s at stake?

It’s not enough to hook the players, you’ve got to give them a reason to act. If they don’t engage, what happens? Does the villain get stronger? Does the mystery go unsolved? Does something precious slip away? Whatever it is, make it clear that inaction has consequences.

I really think that hooks shouldn’t be complicated. They’re there to offer a handhold, not tie players to the plot. Once the players step through, the adventure will take care of itself.

From experience, I also think that multiple hooks are always better than one. Different characters, different motivations. Give them options. One player might respond to a threat, another to a promise of wealth, and another just wants to prove themselves. The more entry points you have, the more natural it feels when they jump in.

Step 4: Placing Clues

This stage is dedicated to thinking about how the players are going to move through this web of nodes you’ve created, and through its mysteries. This is where clues come in. Clues are bits of information that guide your players, from one node to the next, from one secret to another.

Key Secrets and Information

I like to start by looking at the larger story. What do the players need to know to make this adventure work?

Maybe it’s the hidden history of a long-forgotten temple, or the identity of the shadowy figure pulling the strings behind the scenes. Whatever it is, these are the things your players need to discover in order to navigate the adventure.

Here’s what I do: I make a list of the essential pieces of information, the things that will move the players forward. These are the core secrets. Without them, the players might get stuck, or worse, lose interest.

Where to Place the Clues

Once you’ve got your core secrets lined up, the next step is figuring out where and how to reveal them. I like to think about where it makes sense in the world for these clues to show up. Does a clue make sense as something a character says, something hidden in a journal, or maybe an object they find in an abandoned ruin?

And don’t limit yourself to just one option. A clue doesn’t have to be tied to a single node. Maybe that crucial piece of information can come from multiple places. This is where Justin Alexander’s Three Clue Rule is a game-changer. The idea is simple: for any crucial piece of information, plant three different ways to uncover it. This ensures that even if the players miss one (or two), they still have a chance to stay on track.

Step 5: Refining Player Agency

At this point, the story is starting to take shape. You’ve got your nodes, the connections between them, and the clues that guide the players along. Now it’s time to think about player choice. As much as I love creating situations, what I love more is seeing how players tear them apart.

What I aim for at this stage is to make sure that every interaction feels like it matters. Players should sense that their actions, whether bold or cautious, have consequences. And sometimes, it’s what they don’t do that triggers the most interesting outcomes.

Here’s how I like to approach it.

The Choices

At every node, you can ask yourself: What are the players deciding here?

Every node is an opportunity. It might be a decision about whether to trust a shady NPC or explore an ancient ruin. The question is: what choice are you giving your players when they encounter this node?

I like to keep it simple here. What are the most interesting choices at each node? Sometimes it’s obvious—a hostile creature, a suspicious ally—but other times, the choices are more subtle. Does the party linger in the city to investigate a rumor, or do they press on with their quest? Do they take a deal with a faction, knowing it might lead to complications later?

I think it’s important to give players real options. No fake choices, no illusions of agency. If you set up a decision, it should have weight behind it. The decision needs to matter.

The Consequences

Once you’ve got your decisions in place, you need to think about the consequences. Every action (or inaction) should push the story forward. If the players choose to trust that NPC, how does it impact their next steps? If they ignore a clue, what happens in the world because of it?

The consequences don’t have to be immediate, but they should always be felt. Maybe ignoring a clue lets the villain get stronger. Maybe choosing to help one faction angers another. These ripples create tension, which keeps the story interesting.

Branching Outcomes

Now, we need to think about the outcomes. Every decision your players make should create a branch in the story, even if it’s a small one. Maybe they choose to ally with one faction, which closes off opportunities with another. Maybe they decide to explore a forgotten ruin, uncovering a secret that shifts the balance of power in the region.

I don’t try to map out every possible outcome, you can’t predict all the directions your players will go. But I do sketch out a few key branches and I take some time to mentally explore some less obvious options. What happens if they follow the clues? What happens if they miss them? If they side with the NPC, where does that lead? If they oppose them, how does the story change?

Step 6: Finalizing Structure and Flow

When I reach this stage, I step back and take a look at the whole picture. The goal here is to fine-tune the pace and flow of the adventure, without locking the players into a single path.

Now, if you’re running a sandbox adventure, structure might not be your biggest concern. The players decide where to go and when, and you’re there to respond. But in something more time-sensitive or event-driven, pacing becomes a bit more important. You’re still not railroading, but you do want to make sure things are moving in a way that keeps players engaged.

Here’s what I do to check the flow:

First up: Pacing.

Pacing is one of those things you feel more than you see. As much as possible, you want to maintain a steady beat that keeps players engaged. I try to think in terms of balance, not control. You can’t script the players’ choices, but you can make sure there are always opportunities for something interesting to happen.

You want the adventure to feel dynamic, with some moments of tension, some moments of relief, and a few surprises. I like to space out the clues and encounters, enough to maintain interest, but not so close together that players feel overwhelmed. It’s a balancing act, for sure, and one I’m always refining as I run the game. But I know I’m better at this when I spent some time thinking about it, and writing some ideas during the prep phase.

Next: Challenge Variety.

Not every moment in the adventure needs to be life-or-death. Some challenges are about combat, sure, but others might involve social negotiation, puzzles, or even moral dilemmas. I try to mix up the difficulty too. When everything is difficult, the game can feel like a grind. When everything is easy, it loses its sense of reward.

I’ll take a look at the nodes and the choices available at each. What kind of challenges are there?

What I aim for is variety. A mix of problems that different players and character types can solve. This makes sure that everyone gets a moment to shine, and that no one approach dominates the game. When I know the players or characters in advance, I build a quick checklist to make sure everyone can get their share of opportunities to shine.

Finally: Flexibility.

This is the heart of node-based design. Flexibility. The players need to feel like they’re shaping the story, not just following it. So here, I double-check that their choices really matter.

Do the clues and connections lead to multiple outcomes? If the players miss one clue, can they find another way forward? If they decide to ally with one faction, does that close doors elsewhere? The key is that the structure supports multiple outcomes, without locking them into a single route.

This step is really about embracing the uncertainty. You’re not in control of how the story unfolds, and that’s the point. You’re creating a structure that can adapt and evolve based on the players’ decisions. And if that means the villain escapes or the players uncover a hidden ally you didn’t plan for? Even better.

Now It’s Your Turn

Brainstorming is about getting things started. Laying down a few random ideas, following the threads, and seeing where they take you. The nodes don’t have to connect perfectly at first. They’re like pieces of a puzzle. One that might surprise you once all the edges start to line up.

This technique isn’t meant to give you all the answers; it’s meant to help you uncover them. Take what works, leave the rest, and trust that the best ideas will emerge as you build. Adventure writing, like playing, is about discovery. So let yourself explore, your players will thank you for it.


Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *