Let me set the scene: You’re sitting around a table with your most nerdy mates, there’s a few beers floating around, a bowl of Doritos, and the Lord of the Rings Original Soundtrack playing softly in the background. You’re an honourable Paladin of the Light who’s trying to get information out of a troll that you and your party have captured; and you’re called upon by the Dungeon Master to make a skill check. You choose to persuade this troll as that is how you would act as a Paladin, so the Dungeon Master calls upon you to make a skill check.

Before the dice even clatter, the real work has already happened. In D&D, that groundwork is Session Zero, the chat where you set expectations, align on the vibe, and agree on the kind of story you’re making together. In my day job, that’s a Discovery Workshop. We decide the goalposts early: what success looks like, what we’re not doing, and how we’ll handle curveballs. It’s less about rules-lawyering and more about clearing the runway so creativity can take off.

Then there’s safety tools. At the table, we use things like Lines & Veils or a simple pause signal to keep play brave but respectful. If “interrogating a captive” strays into someone’s no-go zone, we cut, reframe, and move on. In creative work, that’s our meeting norms and accessibility. No cheap shots, no guilt-tripping, and space for anyone to opt out of an approach that doesn’t feel right. Boundaries don’t limit ideas; they protect them.

Back to the paladin and the troll. You picked Persuasion because that’s true to your character. That choice matters. It’s player agency—the engine of co-creation. A good Dungeon Master doesn’t railroad the scene; they respond to your intent and build with you. Great brand work feels the same. I bring the map and the monster manual (process, systems, craft), you bring the character sheet (values, audience, voice), and together we decide where to push, where to pivot, and what treasure we’re really chasing.

When the d20 rolls, it’s not a pass/fail exam. It’s a moment of truth inside a framework we agreed on: shared aims, clear boundaries, and freedom to choose a path. That’s how campaigns stay fun and how projects ship strong.

So yes, beer, Doritos, Howard Shore, and a stubborn troll. But the secret sauce is earlier: set the table well, keep it safe, and share the pen. Do that, and even a failed roll can move the story forward—at the table or in a brand launch.