Death in D&D is supposed to be dramatic, meaningful, and narratively satisfying. It’s also a mirror. How your character dies (and how you react) says more about your emotional baggage than your hit points. Let’s rank the death styles by how loudly they scream “please don’t leave me.”
The “I’m Taking You With Me” Death
You died dramatically. Explosions. Last words. Maybe a villain went down with you. You didn’t just die, you made it cinematic. This is performative closure at its finest.
Abandonment level 4/10: You fear being forgotten, so you script your exit like a finale.
The “I’m Just a Side Character” Death
You died quietly. No big speech. No spotlight. Just a failed save and a shrug. You didn’t fight it. You accepted it. You’re not humble, though. That’s a virtue. You’re just emotionally resigned.
Abandonment level 5/10: You fear taking up space, so you fade out instead.
The “I Deserved This” Death
You made reckless choices. You ignored warnings. You died, and you called it justice. Stop roleplaying self-punishment and calling it a redemption arc. You’re not tragic, at least in the way you think. You’re just self-flagellating.
Abandonment level 6/10: You fear forgiveness, so you chase punishment.
The “I’ll Be Back” Death
You died, but you’re already planning your resurrection. You’re not gone. You’re on pause. You treat death like a plot twist, not a consequence. There’s no resilience here. You’re terrified of being forgotten.
Abandonment level 6/10: You fear endings, so you keep rewriting them.
The Pet Dies First
Your animal companion died. You cried. You roleplayed grief harder than any combat. When you lost your pet you lost your emotional anchor. This wasn’t just a statblock that is no longer accessible; you are mourning stability.
Abandonment level 7/10: You fear loss, so you bond with things that can’t leave… until they do.
The “I’m Fine” Death
You were low on health. You said you were fine. You refused healing. You died trying to prove something. You are roleplaying denial disguised as confidence. This is not bravery. You are emotionally constipated.
Abandonment level 7/10: You fear vulnerability, so you perform strength until it kills you.
The “I’ll Go Ahead Alone” Death
You split the party. You scouted ahead. You triggered the trap. You died alone. You had to turn a character statement into a tactical error. You can tell me over and over that you’re independent, but you’re really just emotionally avoidant.
Abandonment level 8/10: You fear relying on others, so you isolate until it hurts.
The “Forgot to Heal Me” Death
You went down. The cleric hesitated. The bard was busy looting. You died because no one prioritised you. Shouldn’t you be used to this by now? You say you’re not mad, but I can see the devastation in your eyes. In your soul. You lost a few hit points, and the last of your faith in the party.
Abandonment level 8/10: You fear being overlooked, so you keep score.
The Betrayal Death
You trusted someone. They turned on you. You died confused, hurt, and narratively betrayed. You’re dead, but more importantly you’re emotionally wrecked. They called it a plot twist whilst you reenacted your trust issues.
Abandonment level 9/10: You fear intimacy, so you test it until it breaks.
The Noble Sacrifice
You threw yourself in front of the dragon. You took the hit. You died so the party could live. Don’t lie to yourself that you’re playing a hero. You roleplayed a martyr. You’re not selfless. You’re desperate to be remembered.
Abandonment level 10/10: You fear being irrelevant, so you made your death a monument.
No Rerolls 