Last Christmas I ran the Bone Dragon Pyramid from The Creative GM’s Guide To Extraordinary Locations as a one-shot for some of my old school friends and their kids. I placed the pyramid in Chult (Forgotten Realms) and inserted a Heart of Darkness-style boat ride up the river Tyriki to reach the pyramid, after which I ran the scenario straight out of my book…

River sharks and rolling sphere traps, in one of 30 Extraordinary Locations!
The team parlayed with the shaman on the lake shore then went to explore the half-submerged pyramid, fighting off my bespoke gargoyle guardians and solving the number puzzle to enter the pyramid via its roof. As they made their way down the interior’s long staircase, I was eagerly awaiting them triggering the rolling sphere trap that would lead to some fun Indiana Jones-inspired mayhem, when I realised I’d made a mistake in my location design. I hadn’t included any way of spotting the trap’s trigger, a pressure plate about half way down the huge staircase.
I guess this is where having a bit of experience as a DM really helps when running published material (even your own published material as it turns out!); I improvised a Perception check for the first person in the marching order to notice a tiny depression – and a barely audible click – when they stepped on the pressure plate. They passed the check and a dramatic situation evolved where they knew if they stepped off the plate they would trigger some kind of effect, but, of course, they didn’t know what.
Other players took up positions along the steps according to their best guesses on what was about to happen, while the player that stepped on the plate left an item on the step to keep the pressure plate in place. Unfortunately for them, this item wasn’t heavy enough to keep the plate depressed and the trap went off anyway! No one died but a couple of characters had to be healed up from zero hit points, which no doubt influenced their decision to leave the pyramid shortly after.
My design, as it appears in Extraordinary Locations, isn’t disastrous by any means. Technically, someone could have used a 10-foot-pole to test for pressure plates along the way, or actively declared they were searching for traps along the staircase: an experienced dungeon delver may well have spotted the trigger via interaction with the environment. But in the context of introducing a bunch of 11 to 13-year-old kids to the game (along with their noob parents) that felt like a particularly harsh expectation.
I also highlight, within the book’s text, several ways quick or smart players might avoid the rolling sphere once released, so there’s a chance to avoid taking any damage even after the trap is triggered.
But in the exact moment of running the trap, as written, I had a strong feeling that I was introducing an unfair “gotcha” into the gaming session. After all, the players were being exposed to a deadly threat just by walking down some unmarked stairs.
So, overall, I think my improvisation was a good one.

Humanoid bowling… every DM’s favourite hobby!
What Is An RPG “Gotcha”?
A “gotcha” in D&D is a danger or threat that players have little to no chance of avoiding.
Perhaps the players make a random decision, like going through an unmarked portal instead of a door, only to be disintegrated as a result. In other words they die without doing anything egregiously stupid or risky, or even failing a die roll.
Or perhaps the Dungeon Master creates a scenario where the players could have avoided the danger, if they had explicitly told the DM that they examine the ceiling before entering the cavern… but they didn’t and so they automatically get surprised by a roper.
These situations are called “gotchas” because technically the DM gave the players a choice, or left them an opening, to avoid the danger – but they didn’t take it. The DM has outwitted them! Mwah ha ha!

“Gotcha”! (Artwork by WOTC).
That roper example above is actually a scenario I ran myself, and maybe the first big mistake I made as a 5th edition Dungeon Master some 10 years ago. Channeling my early teenage experiences of DMing in the 1990s, I described how the party arrived at a cavern and then I paused to let them react. They didn’t intuit the meaning in my pause and just went in: and so I got out of a bunch of d20s and started rolling for the roper’s surprise attacks.
I felt I was being fair, as they didn’t bother to scan the cavern and just proceeded rather carelessly, which, in the games I played in the 90s, would have been considered a rookie mistake. However, summing up the frustration of the entire group, the most experienced player at the table (and an experienced GM) said: “Are we supposedly to constantly say: we are on the look out for danger every time we enter a room?”
Later in the session, the same player charged into combat against a bandit, but was attacked from behind by a second bandit who had been hiding round the corner. I gave the second bandit advantage on the attack, and didn’t feel guilty at the time. I felt like his character had been reckless, as he had charged in without verifying what might be lurking in the blindspots of the room. The player thought the situation deserved a roll of some kind to spot the threat.
Whether I was right or wrong in each case might depend on your play style and your point of view, but these examples told me that players really hate “gotcha” moments in D&D, and this led to me changing my style in future sessions.
I think the modern D&D player expects to be able to avoid damage EITHER through their own clever decision making, OR through the skill of their character.
Gotcha moments tend to remove “character agency” (as opposed to player agency), and fly in the face of what hardy adventurers would be doing in these scenarios…. such as routinely checking caverns for danger before entering, or conducting a thorough search of the whole room when they state they are looking for traps, without having to explicitly mention the floor, the walls, the chandelier etc.*
Another reason why gotchas frustrate is they often arise through a miscommunication, with the player perhaps attempting something they would never do if they had truly understood the situation at hand. Being punished for misunderstandings isn’t fun.
Generally speaking, it’s going to be better for your game if you routinely include rolls to avoid danger, rather than have a paranoid group of players quizzing you about every tiny environmental detail, in case they get caught out.
If gotchas abound in your game, and curiosity is habitually punished, exploration becomes a drag, and way too much precious game time is wasted searching empty rooms for non-existent dangers.
Meanwhile, inserting a roll between players and perils always feels fair and fosters trust in your players that they can go forth into the dungeon without getting auto-killed for making a minor decision.
*Note: it’s still possible to reward players for interacting more narratively with the environment, instead of relying on their character sheet, but the DM should be proactive here and encourage that sort of play: “The room is large and you won’t be able to go over every inch with a fine-tooth comb: are there any particular parts you wish to focus on while you search for traps?” This way you can have two DCs… if they directly mention they inspect the chandelier they realise it is a trap on a roll of 10. If they don’t mention it, or focus on the floor, it’s 20. Or they can choose to get out their fine-tooth comb and take longer. In which case the DC is 10, but you also make a wandering monsters check…
Avoiding Cheap Gotcha Moments…
Avoiding unsatisfying (for the players at least!) gotcha moments is relatively easy as a DM or scenario designer. We simply need to remember to include signs or clues that give adventurers a fair chance to avoid dangers such as traps, and some kind of skill check (usually Perception), so that both player and character are tested.
When a player can reflect that they ignored certain signs, or didn’t take sufficient precautions PLUS they failed a roll, they won’t feel hard done by if they take damage from a hidden threat.
Generally speaking the more deadly the danger up ahead, the more obvious the clues should be and/or the lower DC required to spot it. Folks are unlikely to feel hard done by if you spring the odd minor threat on them.

When you’ve been lying in wait a little too long… (Classic D&D art by Daniel R Horne).
…While Still Allowing For Danger
The issue with the above advice is that calling for a Perception check, which the entire party rolls for, can make surprising the average adventuring party all but impossible. The combination of stacked Perception proficiencies, and having four or five players make the check, means no tripwire is ever going to get tripped.
But here I can offer a few pieces of advice to ensure that at least some traps get triggered, and some ambushes work, at your table:
- Whenever you can justify it, only allow one PC to make a Perception check, not the whole party (such as when marching in single file down a narrow corridor).
- Remember the rules for light and vision. Even characters with darkvision have disadvantage on Perception checks in darkness, while characters without darkvision have disadvantage in dim light (and are blind in darkness, automatically failing Perception checks based on sight). Also 60 feet of darkvision is really not that far.
- Find other (fair) excuses to impose disadvantage on Perception checks, such as travelling at a fast pace (which is in the official rules), or if the players clearly state that their characters are focused on other tasks rather than on the looking out for danger.
- Set the DCs of hidden traps high (…at least if you predict that everyone will be able to roll to spot them!).
- When monsters lie in ambush, set the DC for spotting them using their passive Stealth score (10 + Stealth), and then give them +5 for the advantage of taking the time to set up the ambush in their local terrain (as proposed in my post on Hiding in 5.5e, which I think is worth reading if you’ve ever struggled to run stealth in the 2014 or 2024 rules).
- Call for a Perception check to spot the clue of the danger, not the danger itself… i.e. make the players work a bit to avoid the threat. (Similar to when running secret doors! This has the bonus that it’s more rewarding for the player to interpret a clue than directly receive the information).
- If everyone has pumped up their Perception, maybe switch up your checks occasionally using a bit of DM fiat. “You’re in the wilderness, where spotting danger is about reading the subtle rhythms of the forest…. make a Nature check everyone.” (Or you could do a cross over check: “you’re having to control your body carefully as you climb the cliff face… everyone make a Strength-based Perception check to remain alert as you do so.”).
- Oh yeah, obviously don’t play with passive Perception in your game. But who does that anyway? (Not any of the DMs I’ve played with! It’s boring and OP’ed).
Final Thoughts
Ok that’s it from me. I would love to know if anyone has any nightmare “gotcha” experiences to recount… or perhaps you can offer a robust defence of gotchas? I haven’t read it, but I gather the legendary Tomb of Horrors is a grab-bag of nasty unsignposted surprises – and it remains a firm favourite of many gamers.
I was actually going to write about the alarm spell today, but found this unpublished (and sadly mostly unwritten) post in my drafts, which I think will prove a good precursor on what I have to say about that particular spell. If you aren’t a wizard, subscribe to the blog (sign up in right side bar) and you’ll get a ping when the post goes live. No 1st level spell slot required.







Tom
The GM, if asked by the players after a game, should be able to describe the clues and foreshadowing before the big surprise that you had presented during the game. It should very rarely to almost never be, “I wanted to really surprise you, so I gave absolutely zero hints or foreshadowing ahead of time… Surprise!”
Instead, the GM might say, “I mentioned X, Y, and Z about these characters attitudes, appearances, and demeanors, those should have been clues. There were a few other clues that you didn’t find that may have pointed more directly at one character or another, but you didn’t find some of them, or you didn’t put the clues together fast enough. I remember the Rogue asking for an Insight check on their words, but they didn’t roll well enough to beat their Deception. But no matter what the dice rolls are, you as a player can choose to trust or not trust anyone in the game at any time. I’m glad I was able to roleplay that character so convincingly that you were shocked by the reveal that they were actually a villain all along.”
Hopefully, the players will recall the events and see that in hindsight, there actually were clues, and it wasn’t a completely blind shock-reveal. Next time, maybe they will be more on guard for such twists in the story or major characters. If all of the players fail to see that there were any advanced clues, the GM should probably be more careful next time to emphasize at least a few of the hints that they are dropping.
duncan
Hi Tom, you make a good point. If you are able to explain your workings after the session that will also help foster trust with your players, which in turn should let them get more immersed in the fiction in the future – and perhaps make them more attentive to the details you’re putting out there!
I tend not to conduct post-mortems of my sessions with the players, as it can feel a bit “meta”, although occasionally I do want them to know that there were things they missed or other ways to do things, so they can be assured that their decisions matter. Maybe I should do more of this….