The fear of death in D&D

There are countless debates, written, spoken, or even imagined, on character death in D&D. Extreme views have been posted over the game system's forty-something years of existence, from death being hailed as the ultimate punishment over a player's laziness, foolishness, or plain dumb luck to being considered a taboo amongst game tables, never to be touched upon. David has made two excellent posts discussing the disrupting effects such an occasion can have on the game's story and posing alternative suggestions. But what does it mean to face death in D&D? As my mind always extends into two sides, I want to explore this question from the perspective of the game system's two fundamental play styles: old-school and modern.

In old school gaming, the fear of death comes off as natural, because a multitude things are, naturally, deadly (fire, poison, overwhelming monsters, pits, traps designed to actually discourage people from breaking into) - characters are fragile even at mid levels, and combat, being a brutal and unpredictable affair it normally is, leads to a high rate of lethality, but players embrace death in the end and seem to take it lightly. This can turn into two ways: either the player who enjoys their character is afraid to throw them into risky situations and often attempts to avoid them, or they know they will die eventually and go reckless. These in turn can make or break the game, depending on each campaign's style. In the basic editions of the game, it is often stressed that combat is usually the least favourite option and mechanically this is shown by creatures awarding a trivial amount of XP for being defeated - it is much more convenient and rewarding to bypass them and loot their treasure than confront them. As the campaign is loosely, or not at all, tied to the characters played, one's demise doesn't affect the adventure much - perhaps halt the game while the player rolls a new character.

Using an example from my own experience, in my B/X campaign, which has so far lasted a few months, I've had eleven deaths over sixteen sessions, two TPKs and five separate kills.

In modern gaming, a marginal portion of hazards lead to instant death, if at all, and players are not accustomed to sudden and shocking situations of such an incident so it has a heavier impact. Players invest on their character from its very beginning, with plenty of customisation options and the overall sense that this character is a hero, a cut above the normal folk (hence, the 4d6-drop-lowest roll for ability scores being the default mode). While 2e and 3e toyed with the idea of whether characters are common rabble or heroes, 4e cemented the idea and even used the term heroic tier for levels 1-10. 5e has three tiers of play, with the first being dubbed local heroes (DMG pg. 37): even 1st-level characters are heroes. In comparison, characters in older editions gained the title hero when they reached 4th level, which implied that up to that point, they weren't considered any particular individuals (except perhaps for the occasional dungeon delving and saving kidnapped people or stolen items from the clutches of evil).

Above all, character death isn't acknowledged as part of the game, and this is especially shown in latest editions (some google search reveals plenty of articles and posts that paint the notion of character death as something bad). While this may differ upon each play-style, mechanically speaking, it is quite difficult for a character death to occur, especially beyond 3rd level. So when the possibility of death is presented, players are dreaded even more than their old-school counterparts. Story-heavy campaigns abhor character death, as it strips them from furthering the plot (you need to be an expert DM to tackle such an issue) and if one occurs during the game, it is viewed as a special moment.

Contrary to my B/X campaign's death rate, in my Planescape 5e campaign, which spanned about two years, I've only had one death, and the character was resurrected soon after.

[Challenge of the Frog Idol] Session #15: Conspiracies over Coruvon Part IV

Troubled as the party has its hands tied from last session's events, the adventurers decide to call it a night and return to their quarters, making plans on their next move with a clearer mind. They're focused on infiltrating the estate to at least find evidence of the previous night's sacrifice, as they're quite certain that the groundskeeper's young daughter has already succumbed to the cult's grim ritual. The next day is mostly spent engaging their allies, Karl Dulford and the Privateers, in an attempt to gather a force that will act as a distraction for the guards. Also, as Li is spying the estate from a safe distance, he notices Roggi bringing a young girl that matches the description of Petra, Andros's daughter. The groundskeeper is ecstatic and in tears, but the woman appears withdrawn. Knowing now that there possibly wasn't any ritual last night, and Petra is still alive, the halfling informs the rest of the party. Just before sunset, the adventurers meet a beggar wandering the streets around the Mancoor Estate, and bribe him to spout anything useful. What comes as a surprise is that, while they were away from their quarters, Andros was seen heading towards the docks, a look of concern on his face. Convinced that the groundskeeper is looking for them, they send the beggar as a messenger to call him and discuss in a secluded alley nearby.

Andros rushes to meet the adventurers, as expected, and reveals that his daughter was returned to him, thankfully, but has been acting strangely, which makes him believe something sinister must have happened to her. The party heads straight to the barracks and inform sergeant Silas, in order to gain a permit to access and investigate the estate, which he eventually hands to them. Looking at the estate's barn, the adventurers find a hidden trapdoor that leads to an ancient temple, belonging to some long-forgotten god. Beyond the temple follows a complex of caves that the party cautiously traverses, until they come face to face with the vile cult: Kendrick, Bertram, Captain LeDuc, Vonhilda, Eve Saint Clair, lead by Roggi who, much to the party's suprise, speaks and acts in a highly intelligent manner that what he was previously known. On an alcove, sitting on an old throne is the withering figure of Thaddeus Zephos, the mastermind behind the murder of Jhanos and the cult. After a fierce battle, all cultists fall except for Roggi, who realises that his master is no longer alive, cries over his lifeless body, and surrenders himself, revealing all the cult's plans for curing Thaddeus of his wasting disease and reclaiming his position as the Magistrate, right after Jhanos's death. The party emerges triumphant from the cultist hideout, having enough evidence to clear its name, expose the conspiracy behind the Magistrate's murder and earn the gratitude of several people. The city now acknowledges the adventurers for their bold achievement!

Characters involved
Rolf the Bold, fighter 1
Yudel, dwarf 1
Beldar the Brave, fighter 1
Li, halfling 2

This was the concluding session for the adventure, which I had planned it would take us two sessions; it actually spanned double the time, however, since the players wished to check every crook and cranny before chasing after the murderer. Such is the nature of a murder mystery, I would say, as the party is overwhelmed by several thoughts on possible machinations and interconnected plots. And frankly, it turned out this murder case was deep enough to keep the party busy and exposed more than one plot - the Emporium affair and the workings of the cult of Thaddeus. The module run was a heavily modified adventure from the D&D Adventurers League that I'd happened to have in my possession, converted to BX. Fortunately, we didn't have any losses this time and two characters gained enough experience to reach 2nd level and be close to 3rd.