Should the GM hide their rolls behind a GM screen or should they roll openly where the players can see the results?

A lot of people actually think that hiding their dice rolls is the primary or even ONLY reason for a GM to use a screen, and this can even mire discussions about using GM screens in a debate about whether or not the GM should be hiding their rolls. And the debate about whether or not a GM should be hiding their rolls can often be entirely swallowed up in an argument about whether or not a GM should be fudging their rolls. (Which is, according to these debates, the only possible reason a GM would have for hiding their rolls.)

At this point, as you can see, the argument is already several layers deep in largely unexamined premises.

Let’s see if we can unpack things a bit.

First, I discuss a bunch of great reasons for using a GM screen in On the Use of GM Screens, and hiding your dice rolls doesn’t even make the list. In fact, it’s fully possibly to use a GM screen and NOT hide your dice rolls. So let’s lay aside the idea that these are intrinsically linked.

Second, for the purposes of this post, let’s take it as a given that the GM should never fudge their rolls.

Having discarded fudging as a motivation, why would a GM want to hide their rolls? In my experience, there are three factors:

Convenience. As I mentioned, there are a lot of great reasons for using a GM screen. Therefore, although I don’t always us a screen, I do often use a screen. And while it’s possible to use a screen without hiding your dice rolls, it’s frequently inconvenient.

So when I’m using a screen, I mostly roll behind the screen because it’s easier. In most systems, it would be a huge pain in the ass to stand up and roll the dice on the far side of the screen every time I needed t roll.

Secrecy. There’s a wide variety of situations in which a dice roll is generating information which the players’ characters don’t have access to. (Or, at least, not immediately.) Therefore, it often makes sense also hide that information form the players.

Examples of this includes Stealth checks, random encounter checks, saving throws against illusions, and any number of other possibilities.

Dramatic Effect. When properly framed so that everyone at the table knows what number needs to be rolled on the dice — without doing any additional math; just “I need a 17 or better” — there can be an immense amount of suspense placed on the die roll and a hugely effective and emotional moment that happens when the dice are rolled and the result is immediately seen!

When a dramatic moment like this is happening, you certainly don’t want to under cut it by rolling the dice in secret! And you may even want to make a special effort to make sure the dramatic moment can happen (e.g., precalculating the die result needed even in a system where you typically don’t do that)!

D&D generally doesn’t frame rolls like this, but critical hits are an exception — everyone knows immediately what a natural 20 means! — and can give a little taste of what it can be like. On the other hand, Monte Cook’s Cypher System, if you run it properly, is set up so that almost every die roll works like this unless there’s a reason for secrecy (which, of course, provides its own dramatic impetus).

IN CONCLUSION

On that note, we can see how these three factors can be weighed for each roll to determine how we want to handle it.

So, for example, if I’m not using a GM screen, then I generally don’t care and just roll the dice, unless there’s a specific reason why secrecy is significant for a particular roll.

On the other hand, when I am using a screen, then I’ll generally roll behind the screen for convenience, unless the stakes are high enough that dramatic effect makes it worth the bother of standing up and rolling on the far side of the screen.

Other GMs, groups, or even game systems can easily have different opinions on the relative importance of these factors.

For example, maybe you’re playing a game with very few rolls and, therefore, every roll is a big, dramatic moment:

On the other hand, a GM might feel strongly about not giving their players the metagame knowledge that “there’s a reason this roll should be hidden, and therefore I’m hiding it,” and therefore they’d prefer to hide as many of their rolls as possible. (And this might be something that the GM only cares about because this particular group is prone to metagaming that knowledge. Or they may have had one of the players ask them to mask the metagame information because that will help them enjoy the game more.)

The point is that there’s not really a One True Way™ here. But hopefully a clear understanding of these factors will help you think clearly about when and why you’re hiding your dice rolls, and find the right solution for you, your group, and your game!

BONUS PLAYER TIP: GET DRAMATIC!

If you’re a player, you can set up your own dramatic dice rolls!

Remember that the basic concept is that (a) the stakes of the dice roll are clear, (b) everyone at the table knows what number you need to roll on the dice (with no additional modifiers); and (c) the roll is made in the open so that everyone can immediately see the result!

The stakes of the check put pressure on the roll; and the result of the roll being immediately known provides an instantaneous release of that pressure, regardless of whether the result is jubilant or catastrophic!

It is not, of course, unusual for the stakes of a roll to be known before the roll is made. Assuming you have access to all the other numbers involved, all you need to do to create your own dramatic dice roll is precalculate the result, announce it to the table, and then roll!

In some systems, as we’ve discussed, this will basically be done for you automatically. But in others, including D&D, you’ll need to jump through a couple extra hoops. (You might also need to ask the GM to give you an additional piece of information, like the DC of the check in D&D.)

The other thing to note, of course, is that if you try to make every single roll ultra-dramatic, the net effect will often be to make nothing dramatic. Excitement and emphasis can all too easily turn into tedium.

But if you choose your moments well, you can enhance the game for everyone at the table!

This adventure was originally developed as part of my In the Shadow of the Spire campaign. When I posted the campaign journal describing what happened when my players encountered the crypt (which you can read here), several people asked where they could find a copy of the crypt for their own campaigns.

The False Tomb was originally designed for D&D 3^rd Edition. It has been updated to 5^th Edition here. (Members of my Patreon will receive a copy of my original 3^rd Edition adventure notes as special bonus content.)

The adventure uses the tomb spider, along with the associated broodswarms and web mummies, from Monster Manual IV. Tomb spiders also appeared in Monster Manual 2 for D&D 4^th Edition, but have not received an official 5^th Edition update. You can find fan conversions here and here.

The original adventure used copyrighted content from two different RPG publishers. Both publishers have fan content licenses, but for legal reasons I’m uncertain both can be used at the same time. I am using Wizards of the Coast’s Fan Content Policy and have, therefore, stripped the other IP from the adventure.

BACKGROUND

Sagrathea’s Sigil

The PCs are searching for the burial compound of an archmage named Sagrathea. At some point in the past, several of the stone sarsens above Sagrathea’s tomb were taken from the site and reused to build the walls of a small crypt. These sarsens were marked with Sagrathea’s sigil, which may result in the crypt being misidentified as her tomb.

IDENTIFYING THE FALSE TOMB:

• DC 15 Intelligence (Mason’s tools) or Intelligence (History): Recognizes that the walls were built using repurposed sarsens, suggesting that the presence of Sagrathea’s arcane sigil is coincidental.

Once the tomb has been identified as false, finding the actual tomb by searching the surrounding area is relatively easy.

THE FALSE TOMB

ENTRANCE

This crudely built crypt has thick walls formed from heavy stone slabs. Several of these slabs have the distinctive — yet heavily worn — sigil of Sagrathea worked into them. On one side of the crypt there is a badly rusted iron door.

DOOR: The door is rusted shut.

• Batter Down: DC 20 Strength check.
• Repair: DC 15 Dexterity (tool proficiency) check.

STAIRS: On the other side of the door there is a flight of gloom-shrouded stairs leading down about twenty feet into the crypt. At the top of the stairs — propped up against the walls — are the shattered stone remnants of the crypt’s original door.

AREA 1 – ENTRY HALL

The floor is strewn with rubbled stone from the broken walls and ceiling. Thick cobwebs are strung from the walls, although there is a more or less clear path to the door on the far side of the chamber. This heavy door of stone hangs half-open, its bottom half smashed apart.

Difficult Terrain: Due to the broken floor and webs.

AREA 2 – CORPSE HUSK

An upright sarcophagus stands against the far wall of this burial chamber. It has been smashed apart. The corpse of its former inhabitant lies on the floor in the middle of the chamber. Thick webs seem to manacle the dried husk to the walls. The chest of the corpses appears to have been ripped open.

BODY — DC 10 Intelligence (Investigation) / Wisdom (Medicine): Something burst OUT of the corpse’s chest.

AREA 3 – LURKING BROODSWARM

The webs are much thicker in this chamber. They almost look like snowdrifts as they crawl their way up the walls. You can see what appears to be an upright sarcophagus standing against the far wall.

BROODSWARM: There is a broodswarm lurking in the webs in the corner of the room (Stealth +7). It will attack if anyone who gets caught in the webs

WEBS: Difficult terrain. DC 10 Dexterity check to cross the room. On failure, become restrained in webs and must make a DC 12 Strength check to escape. (AC 10; hp 5; vulnerability to fire damage; immunity to bludgeoning, poison, and psychic damage.)

SARCOPHAGUS: A large hole has been punched in the front of the sarcophagus. Inside the sarcophagus is a corpse wearing a ruined mithril shirt — its chest has been ripped open.

• DC 10 Intelligence (Investigation) / Wisdom (Medicine): Something burst OUT of the corpse’s chest.
• Mithril Shirt: Although useless, the raw mithril is still worth 1,000 gp.

AREA 4 – WEB-CHOKED ROOM

This burial chamber is choked with webs. They literally fill every inch of open space. The far side of the room is completely obscured by them.

WEB MUMMY: A web mummy lurks in the webs. If the PCs disturb the webs in this room or Area 5, it will attack. Otherwise, it will wait until the PCs are confronted by the tomb spider in Area 6, emerging from this room while dragging webs behind it.

WEBS: Difficult terrain. DC 10 Dexterity check to cross the room. On failure, become restrained in webs and must make a DC 12 Strength check to escape. (AC 10; hp 5; vulnerability to fire damage; immunity to bludgeoning, poison, and psychic damage.)

SARCOPHAGUS: A sarcophagus stands against the back wall of the room. It has been broken open. (And is where the web mummy comes from.)

AREA 5 – WEB-CHOKED ROOM

This burial chamber is choked with webs. They literally fill every inch of open space. The far side of the room is completely obscured by them.

WEB MUMMY: A web mummy lurks in the webs. If the PCs disturb the webs in this room or Area 5, it will attack. Otherwise, it will wait until the PCs are confronted by the tomb spider in Area 6, emerging from this room while dragging webs behind it.

WEBS: Difficult terrain. DC 10 Dexterity check to cross the room. On failure, become restrained in webs and must make a DC 12 Strength check to escape. (AC 10; hp 5; vulnerability to fire damage; immunity to bludgeoning, poison, and psychic damage.)

SARCOPHAGUS: A sarcophagus stands against the back wall of the room. It has been broken open. (And is where the web mummy comes from.)

• A +1 longsword lies inside the broken sarcophagus.

AREA 6 – THE TOMB SPIDER

ANTECHAMBER:

Through the broken door you can see an antechamber. A mosaic of glittering lapis lazuli has been worked into the floor, depicting a bursting star. Twin statues with red gemstones in their eyes flank a door leading into the tomb beyond. Each statue raises its right hand before it, as if to ward off trespassers.

THE BURIAL CHAMBER:

In the tomb itself lies an iron sarcophagus worked in the likeness of knight with a sword and shield laid upon his chest. Thick webs are draped from this sarcophagus, shrouding the far corners of the room in darkness.

TOMB SPIDER: The tomb spider is on the ceiling of the burial chamber. It will wait to attack until someone either stumbles into the entry web or enters the burial chamber. It cannot be seen until someone is standing in the doorway of the tomb chamber (Stealth +7, with advantage).

• Tactics: As soon as it gets a chance, the tomb spider will throw a web across the exit.

ENTRY WEB: There is a finely-woven web draped across the antechamber just inside the broken door. DC 18 Wisdom (Perception) check to notice it; otherwise the character entering the antechamber will automatically stumble into it.

WEBS – BURIAL CHAMBER: Difficult terrain. DC 10 Dexterity check to cross the room. On failure, become restrained in webs and must make a DC 12 Strength check to escape. (AC 10; hp 5; vulnerability to fire damage; immunity to bludgeoning, poison, and psychic damage.)

THE KNIGHT: The iron sarcophagus could not be broken by the tomb spider. The heraldry on the knight’s shield can be recognized as belonging to the Order of the Rosy Cross. The knight wears elven chain and a +1 longsword.

The False Tomb is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the material used are property of Wizards of the Coast. © Wizards of the Coast LLC.

Go to Table of Contents

Just like the other sections of the campaign described in Part 2 and Part 3, the Hekaton investigation is ultimately organized around a revelation list, although it may be useful to think of it in separate parts.

SETTING THE STAGE

Even before the PCs get directly involved with the Kraken Society, you’ll almost certainly want to set the stage with some key revelations:

• Storm Court is no longer in charge of the other giants
• King Hekaton is Missing / Queen Neri is Missing
• Serissa is acting as Regent of the Storm Court
• Optional: Storm Giant Raids (if these are happening)
• Optional: Mirran and Nym are opposed to Serissa’s regency

Basically, you want the PCs to know that the storm giants are in a state of crisis and confusion — and, importantly, who King Hekaton and Queen Neri are — so that when the PCs start encountering Hekaton-related revelations while investigating the Kraken Society they’ll immediately recognize the significance of what they’ve found.

Several of the clues we set up in Part 3D can serve double duty here, but you’ll want to make sure these revelation lists are fully stocked. It probably wouldn’t hurt for some/all of these to be seeded fairly early in the campaign.

STRUCTURAL REVELATIONS: THE KRAKEN SOCIETY

The core structural revelations are the ones we’ve already discussed — e.g., point-crawl accessible nodes → Involved nodes → Purple Rocks → the Morkoth. These are the leads that will take the PCs through the various Kraken Society nodes. The exact breakdown of this revelation list will depend on the options you’ve chosen.

In addition to the standard revelation list (i.e., the leads pointing to a node from other nodes), I would also make a list of pointcrawl-acccessible nodes for easy reference. “Encountered on Pointcrawl” is, of course, a legitimate vector pointing to a node and can also be included on the node’s revelation list, satisfying one of the three clues for the Three Clue Rule.

You’ll also want to include any leads from the Three City hooks or faction missions pointing to Kraken Society nodes. It can be useful to sketch these out ahead of time, but keep in mind that you don’t need to fully flesh out the faction missions until you know which (if any) of the factions your group is getting involved with. If you want to do this systematically, include a Kraken Society lead in each of the Three Cities and for each of the factions.

Friendly factions can, of course, give the PCs direct leads to Kraken Society nodes as missions, but missions can also point to the Kraken Society indirectly — i.e., the PCs are given a mission to do X, which is unrelated to the Kraken Society, but doing so will tangentially bring them into contact with the Society. (An easy example of this is, “go do X, which is coincidentally in the same location as a pointcrawl-accessible Society node, thus triggering the Kraken Society encounter.”)

Along similar lines, even enemy factions can deliver Kraken Society leads: The PCs target the faction, and discover that faction’s Kraken Society-related intelligence (e.g., “Why are the Zhentarim so interested in the activities of Lord Drylund of Yartar?”).

CORE CONCEPT REVELATIONS: WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?

In addition to just moving from one Kraken Society node to another, there are several key concepts that the PCs should be learning so that they can figure out what’s really going on:

• The Kraken Society kidnapped Hekaton.
• Hekaton is on the Morkoth.
• How to locate the Morkoth.

You’ll likely want to make sure that the clues for “the Kraken Society kidnapped Hekaton” are seeded into the entry point nodes for the Kraken Society: Learning this will give the PCs a very specific goal for continuing their investigation of the Society. Without establishing a goal like this, the only thing motivating the PCs to continue investigating the Society will be simple curiosity. This can work, but it tends to be less reliable and less compelling. (Of course, it’s also quite possible that the PCs — or perhaps their factions — will end up providing their own anti-Kraken Society motivators.)

THE IYMRITH CONSPIRACY

Strictly speaking, the PCs can probably end up rescuing King Hekaton from the Kraken Society without ever figuring out the deeper conspiracy involving Iymrith, Mirran, and Nym. But ideally they’ll figure out this deeper truth, so we should set up a revelation list:

• The Kraken Society is collaborating with someone in the Storm Court.
• The Kraken Society’s collaborator is Iymrith.
• Mirran & Nym are conspiring with Iymrith.
• Iymrith is actually a blue dragon.
• Optional: The location of Iymrith’s lair.

It’s likely a lot of clues on this list will be pulling double duty (i.e., a clue that indicates that Iymrith is conspiring with the Kraken Society AND that the Kraken Society know she’s really dragon). The clues in Part 3D, once again, include several more clues that are pulling double duty for these revelations. Also remember that clues pointing to these revelations can also be seeded into the Storm Court itself.

One structural note here is that any clue pointing to “the Kraken Society’s collaborator is Iymrith” will almost certainly also reveal that “that Kraken Society is collaborating with someone in the Storm Court,” but the latter is listed as a separate revelation because — while it’s not strictly necessary — it’s probably more effective to establish the mystery of “Who is the collaborator?!” before providing the clues that resolve the mystery.

In other words, you want three distinct clues for “Kraken Society is collaborating with someone in the Storm Court” that don’t overlap with “their collaborator is Iymrith,” and you’ll want to seed those clues into “earlier” nodes. (For example, maybe “there’s a collaborator” clues can be found in the pointcrawl-accessible nodes, but “it’s Iymrith” clues can only be found in nodes that can only be reached by investigating the pointcrawl-accessible nodes.)

Since node-based scenarios are, obviously, nonlinear, it’s still quite possible that the PCs will learn Iymrith is the collaborator at the same time they learn there IS a collaborator. They might also learn, from other vectors, that Mirran, Nym, and Iymrith are all collaborating together before they learn that they’re working for the Kraken Society and/or are involved in Hekaton’s disappearance! That’s just fine. Our goal isn’t to lock things down. We’re just seeding our clues in the most effective way possible.

The final thing to consider here is designing a proactive node for Iymrith and/or the sisters. In other words, if/when Iymrith learns of the PCs’ efforts, what action might she take to oppose them? Some or all of them might choose intervene directly. Or, alternatively, send agents who can be tracked back to them. In addition to being a fun encounter, this is obviously also a perfect opportunity to include some Iymrith Conspiracy clues.

Go to Part 5: The Final Act

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 36D: Crypt of Webs

“Maybe it’s a magic box. Maybe our memories are trapped inside,” Ranthir said, only half-joking. “We just open the box and we get our memories back.”

But wishing the box open wouldn’t make it happen…

… unless they’d been over-looking the solution.

“What about the key from Pythoness House?” Tor asked. “The one that can open any lock?”

“Would that work?” Tee asked. “There were no moving parts in the lock.”

Ranthir shrugged. “I don’t know. It might.”

This moment from earlier in Session 36 – where the PCs abruptly realize, completely out of the blue and more than a dozen sessions after getting the all-key, exactly WHY they were looking for the all-key in the first place – is the one of those moments that would feel completely “wrong” in a film or book. After a hundred pages, the detective just suddenly realizes something for no reason? Just because? That feels forced and unsatisfying.

Authors, therefore, feel compelled to offer some explanation for what prompted the character’s sudden insight or new idea: Another character will say something innocuous, but it has a double meaning that ignites a light bulb! Or a beam of a light falls on something that jars their memory. Or a burnt out neon sign transforms its meaning. Or, if all else fails, a montage of flashbacks reveals the hidden pattern.

At the game table, though, these moments feel completely natural and are often deeply satisfying. Because they are, of course, really happening, in a way that the events of a novel or film can never be.

On the other hand, you might be looking at this and thinking: “Hang on… They found the all-key in Session 23 on June 7^th, and then they just… didn’t do anything with it until Session 36 on January 24^th? And the campaign just stalled for seven months?”

Well, no. The campaign didn’t stall. As you can see from the campaign journals, lots and lots and lots of stuff was happening. But this can be difficult to wrap your head around if you’re used to prepping and running linear scenarios and campaigns. In those campaigns, if the PCs don’t trigger the next scene or scenario in the sequence, then the whole campaign runs into a brick wall.

What we have in this case is a meta-scenario that’s running alongside the primary campaign structure. One of the great about meta-scenarios like this is that you can just let them simmer — often for very long spans of the time — while the main line(s) of the campaign continue apace.

But you can get similar results from any non-linear campaign structure: For example, in a hexcrawl the clues pointing the PCs to Siren’s Cove can be ignored for almost any length of time while the players are exploring any number of the other hexes available to them. Similarly, in a node-based campaign, the hook to a scenario can lie dormant while the PCs are busy engaging with the other options they have.

In some cases, these lengthy delays will be entirely due to the decisions the players are making: They know those clues point to Siren’s Cove and they could choose to go there at any time, but they were simply more interested in the Fane of Pandemonium and, while they were trapped within the Fane, the situation in Bluewood has turned into a crisis that they need to deal with immediately.

In other cases, though — like the current session — the players literally haven’t solved the mystery yet: They haven’t figured out how to decipher the map to Siren’s Cove. They don’t make the connection that “M.R.” are the initials of Montgomery Rosemount. They haven’t realized the all-key can unlock the box.

Those are the times when you can get the big payoff — that ultimate moment where they decipher the map, abruptly discover who the mystery “M.R.” is, or open the box that’s tantalized them for months or years — by just being willing to give your players the space to struggle for a while.

And what is the payoff?

It’s that little thrill you feel in knowing that if you HADN’T figured it out, the GM was never going to give it to you. It’s the tingling little frisson that runs up the spine when you discover that your actions in the game truly matter. There’s no script and you’re certainly not following it. The good stuff happened because YOU made it happen, and if you don’t want the bad stuff to happen, you’re going to have to try a little harder.

I said that this moment works in an RPG because it’s really happening, and that’s also the root of what makes the payoff so satisfying.

What can make these payoffs feel HUGE for the players is literally the anticipation: They’d been wondering what was inside this box for nearly two years at this point!

Of course, I’d figured that the pay-off for that wait would have come when they snagged the all-key… but it didn’t. They didn’t make the connection. And I really wanted to see that payoff. I’d been waiting for it, too! It was so tempting — and so easy! — to say something like, “Do y’all have any locks you haven’t been able to open?” or, “Do you remember that box your woke up with?” Or maybe I could have had them make an Intelligence check to see if one of them had the idea to use the all-key on the sealed box? (Ugh.)

But I didn’t succumb to that temptation, and the payoff was even better for it. Because it was worth the wait. And because it was their reward. They’d earned it. I hadn’t stuck my nose in and undermined their moment.

Of course, not every instance of “missing the obvious” will burn low for multiple sessions. Often the payoff comes a lot quicker. For example, at the end of this same session the PCs went looking for Alchestrin’s Tomb:

It was only a couple of hours before dusk and the sun was already low in the sky, but they felt they had already wasted enough time. They headed to the Necropolis, aware that they would need to finish their work there before darkness fell.

Once they had reached Darklock Hill, Dominic used his connection with the gods to fixate upon Alchestrin’s sigil and locate its nearest occurrence. He led them to a crudely built crypt with thick walls built from heavy stone slabs. Elestra recognized that these slabs were, in fact, repurposed stone sarsens. Several of them had the distinctive – yet heavily worn – sigil of Alchestrin worked into them.

This scenario was designed to be deliberately deceptive: Someone had scavenged the sarsens from the stone circle above Alchestrin’s Tomb and used them to build their own tomb nearby. So somebody looking for the tomb would likely spot Alchestrin’s sigil on the false tomb instead, become confused, and go on a little mini-dungeoncrawl.

At the actual table, though, I was surprised when Elestra made a point of specifically examining the sigils. I don’t remember exactly what skill check I called for, but she rolled well and would clearly recognize that the sigils were carved into stone sarsens that had been repurposed for the walls of this tomb.

At this point, I figured the jig was up: If the sarsens weren’t originally part of this tomb, then obviously this tomb couldn’t be Alchestrin’s Tomb.

But then the players… just didn’t see it. They missed the obvious.

It was only later, as more and more stuff about the false crypt didn’t add up, that Ranthir suddenly realized the importance of what Elestra had seen and doubled back to check his hypothesis.

“I think I have the answer,” Ranthir said, coming back down the stairs from above. “The stones on which Alchestrin’s sigil is marked are stone sarsens – originally designed as part of a stone circle. They must have been scavenged to build the walls of this crypt.”

Now, in this case I could have been tempted to fudge Elestra’s original check so that she wouldn’t learn that the walls were repurposed sarsens.

Or, after she made that check, I could have been tempted to spell it out and make the connection for her: “No, no. I said they were repurposed sarsens from a stone circle! So the sigil doesn’t belong to this crypt, but to wherever those stone sarsens came from!”

But how much more satisfying was it for the players to not only (a) finally make that conclusion for themselves, but also (b) realize that they’d had the solution the whole time and could have avoided the whole fiasco!

This wasn’t something that I had, as the GM, had done to them. I hadn’t pulled a fast one. I hadn’t cheated. And so the outcome was infinitely more satisfying on every level.

(And, of course, if it had all played out differently, that would have been okay, too. That is, after all, the whole point.)

Campaign Journal: Session 37A – Running the Campaign: The Adventure Not Taken
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index