Encounters in Motion: Designing Evolving Random Tables
Random encounter tables are a key tool to inject unpredictability and a sense of life into dungeons, megadungeons, and wilderness exploration. But if we want to truly create the illusion of a living, breathing world, we need well-crafted tables.
The days of dry lists like “2d6 wolves — 4d6 bandits — 5 spiders” are behind us.
One of my favorite examples is Forbidden Lands, which offers rich encounter paragraphs filled with lore, sidequests, and flavor. However, I find them too long to use at the table without prep. When I ran the game, I had to pre-read and prepare encounters in advance. This worked — but it also killed some of the improvisational magic for me as a GM.
Personally, I prefer encounter tables that go beyond combat. I like to include strange phenomena, bits of lore, and weird occurrences that reflect the tone and ecology of the region being explored. When I do include creature encounters, I use a two-table method: one for the creature, and another for their current activity — things like patrolling, hunting, eating, or fleeing. This way, goblins aren’t just “there” — they’re doing something. They might be hunting, arguing over loot, or wounded and looking for help, which opens the door to far more interesting roleplay than just another initiative roll.
I also enjoy designing specific tables for different dungeon regions or wilderness zones. This reinforces immersion and realism. My traditional tables were usually 12–20 entries long to keep things fresh — but that’s a lot of mental work.
That’s when I started experimenting with a new idea I found scattered in old forums and systems:
progressive encounter tables.
Instead of 20 unique entries, you make a shorter table — maybe 6 to 8 entries — but each one has 3 progressive stages. When you roll an encounter, you read stage 1 and mark it off. If that number comes up again, you read stage 2 — and the next time, stage 3.
This approach has several benefits:
You only need to come up with 6–8 core ideas, and then evolve them across three beats. This is way easier than designing 20 completely different encounters, and way more efficient when building encounters for large spaces like megadungeons, sprawling wilderness areas, or complex dream-layers.
It creates a sense of world progression.
Instead of isolated moments, your encounters start to feel like they’re part of something bigger. For example:
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Stage 1 — You find some massive, clawed footprints leading away from a collapsed tree.
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Stage 2 — You discover the half-dissolved corpse of a horse. The acid has an unnatural shimmer to it.
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Stage 3 — You finally come face to face with a towering creature whose body shifts and phases like a broken reflection.
Players don’t just roll on a table and get a monster—they witness clues, changes in the environment, pieces of a story unfolding over time. This transforms a random table into a self-directed quest, something they might choose to follow or ignore, and that gives them agency.
It rewards players who pay attention.
When random events are connected and the players start noticing recurring signs—a symbol, a type of wound, a song heard again—they feel clever. That moment when someone at the table says, “Wait… that was the thing from earlier,” creates real engagement. It makes the world feel alive without needing exposition dumps or constant lore explanations.
It lets you build tension naturally.
With these progressive entries, you can create suspense over time. Something strange shows up once. Then again, but worse. And finally, it becomes unavoidable. This builds momentum and expectation without needing you to prep a full arc or story in advance. It works wonderfully in dungeons where the PCs might revisit the same areas and notice changes, or in wilderness journeys where things escalate the deeper they go.
And most importantly: these tables are fun to write. You don’t need to come up with twenty disconnected entries. You just need six or seven ideas you like, and imagine how they might unfold. It becomes more like writing a little microstory than filling a random chart with stat blocks.
I think these tables are ideal for smaller dungeon areas or contained sections of a megadungeon that players visit often. In these cases, you're working with a limited number of factions and environmental elements. You don’t need tons of variety — you need things to evolve and reinforce themes. These tables work especially well in mini-regions or self-contained arcs of a campaign. For example:
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Through the Valley of the Manticore
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The Shadow of the Silver Axe
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The Caves of Chaos
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Or (my next experiment) a West Marches campaign using Shadowdark: Western Reaches
The Western Reaches (via Cursed Scrolls) already divides the world into small interconnected biomes, and I think progressive tables would work beautifully in these areas. Since players will revisit these regions, progressive encounters help avoid repetition and inject a sense of movement and consequence into the world.
Case Study: The Incandescent Grottoes.
To show what I mean, I took the standard random encounter table from Gavin Norman’s The Incandescent Grottoes and reworked it into a progressive format.
Here’s the original:
Original Incandescent Grottoes – Random Events Table
d12 | Event |
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1 | A rushing gust of wind, accompanied by ghostly voices moaning “Save us from the Faceless One!” |
2 | A waggling, finger-sized, green mushroom (edible, heals 1d4hp) pops out of a wall. |
3 | A damp patch on a wall coalesces briefly into a face, whispering “Dissolution.” |
4 | PCs shudder as an aura of freezing cold sweeps through. |
5 | PCs’ light sources flicker violet and tangerine for 1 turn. |
6 | A cacophony of babbling voices echoes from afar. |
7 | 2d6 Kobolds (see Area 4 for stats) searching for a gang of charlatan moss-peddlers. |
8 | 1d3 Troglodytes (from Area 35) quietly conspiring to murder Pidder. |
9 | 1d3+1 Imperial Soldiers (plate mail, prism-topped helms) searching for a woman with a crystal-tipped staff (the Rogue Prismist in Area 51). Stats: AC 2 [17], HD 1 (4hp), Att 1 × sword (1d8), THAC0 19 [0], MV 60' (20'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (F1), ML 9, AL Neutral, XP 10. |
10 | A Carcass Crawler laying eggs in a giant rat’s corpse. Stats: AC 7 [12], HD 3+1* (14hp), Att 8 × tentacle (paralysis), THAC0 16 [+3], MV 120' (40'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (2), ML 9, AL Neutral, XP 75. |
11 | A black-robed Necromancer and 1d6 Guards heading for Area 40 with a sack of bones. Necromancer: AC 8 [11], HD 4* (10hp), Att 1 × dagger (1d4) or 1 × spell, THAC0 19 [0], MV 120' (40'), SV D13 W14 P13 B16 S15 (MU4), ML 7, AL Neutral, XP 125. Spells: charm person, sleep, ESP, web. Guards: AC 2 [17], HD 1 (4hp), Att 1 × spear (1d6), THAC0 19 [0], MV 60' (20'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (F1), ML 9, AL Neutral, XP 10. |
12 | 2d4 Giant Centipedes scuttling along the walls. Stats: AC 9 [10], HD ½* (2hp), Att 1 × bite (poison), THAC0 19 [0], MV 60' (20'), SV D14 W15 P16 B17 S18 (NH), ML 7, AL Neutral, XP 6. Poison: save or become horribly sick for ten days; no physical activity except half-speed movement. |
And here’s the progressive version I created:
Progressive Encounter Table (12 Entries, 3 Stages Each)
# | Stage 1 | Stage 2 | Stage 3 |
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1 | A sudden gust of wind extinguishes torches. Ghostly voices whisper: “Save us from the Faceless One!” | A translucent figure floats by, repeating: “Too late… He comes.” PCs save vs spells or are frightened 1 hour (−2 mental stats). | Semi-humanoid slimes appear, saying: “The Faceless Lord is kind. Join our family!” They offer safety in exchange for flesh. |
2 | A finger-sized green mushroom waggles from a wall crack. Eating heals 1d4 HP. | A cluster of green mushrooms waggle. Eating 3+ mushrooms triggers a voice: “Thank you, Mother, for letting us live inside you.” | Those who ate 3+ mushrooms bloat; skin becomes fungal. A spore cloud deals 1d6 damage; save vs poison or get infection (repeat). |
3 | A damp patch forms a blurry face whispering “Dissolution.” | The face returns, whispering: “Northeast. Dissolution. All be one.” Save vs spells or −1 coordination for 1 hr. | Ceiling distorts into massive face screaming: “DISSOLUTION! ALL BE ONE!” Nearby enemies alerted; PCs save vs paralysis or stun. |
4 | An unnatural chill causes PCs to shudder; no visible source. | Frost forms; save vs cold or take 1d4 cold damage and disadvantage on Dex checks for 10 min. | Fierce polar blast halts progress 1d4 hours; each turn save vs cold or take 1d4 cold damage. |
5 | Light sources flicker violet and tangerine for 1 turn. | Flickering intensifies; save vs spells or blinded 1 round and −disadvantage perception 10 min. | Flickering light forms an apparition that absorbs all light then vanishes; lanterns explode and become unusable. |
6 | Distant babbling voices echo faintly, causing unease. | Voices chant: “Master of Dissolution, come for your sacrifices!” | Necromancer + 8 followers appear, intent on delivering PCs to Faceless One. |
7 | Kobolds see PCs from afar and flee to warn their lair (Area 4). | PCs find crude traps with mushroom bait. | 12 kobolds block the path, attacking if PCs look weak, else open to negotiation. |
8 | 1d3 troglodytes whisper conspiracies about Pidder. | Twice as many troglodytes conspiring loudly to kill Pidder. | 12 troglodytes celebrate their new leader, destroyer of Pidder; aggressive if PCs spotted. |
9 | Heavy human footprints, rations and torches remain; foreigners also in the cave. | Original encounter: 1d3+1 Imperial soldiers searching for Rogue Prismist. | Worn group, missing one soldier, demands rations and supplies aggressively from PCs. |
10 | A carcass crawler lays eggs in a giant rat corpse. | If not killed before, mother crawler flees carrying dozens of babies. | Mother with grown offspring attacks. Baby swarm acts as single creature with triple HP and 3 attacks. |
11 | Necromancer and 1d6 guards carry a sack of bones toward Area 40. | Same as stage 1 but with 2 skeletons escorting. | 2d6 skeletons patrol the area, likely under necromancer’s control. |
12 | 2d4 giant centipedes scuttle quietly along walls. | Centipedes stalk PCs; all fail perception, surprise attack. Save vs poison or sickened 10 min (-2 speed, disadvantage physical checks). | If not killed, double the centipedes arrive aggressively hunting PCs. |
Note: The original table has 12 entries, which is likely too many for a progressive system — numbers may not come up enough times to complete sequences. For actual use, I’d recommend picking your favorite 6–8 encounters from the list and building your own table. All of the sequences I wrote expand the dungeon’s lore, emphasize the presence of the Faceless One, or give the dungeon’s factions more personality. Even the “weird oddities” evolve and get weirder.
I’ll continue experimenting with this idea at my table and plan to share more examples and tools soon. By allowing encounters to evolve over time, you invite players into a world that feels alive and changing—where every detail matters and tension builds with each step. It’s a simple shift that can deepen immersion and storytelling in any campaign.
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