Homestuck on Player Death — Heroic or Just?

CW: death mention

In D&D, death is more than a possibility. It’s safe to say that in a game with hit points and deadly weapons and spells like power word kill, someone is probably going to die. It might be an arch-villain. It might be a couple of slimes lurking in a dungeon. Sometimes, it might be a player character.

That last bit is a point of contention for many people, myself included. I hate the idea of investing so much time in a character only to lose them for no good reason. Death can often come at the whim of a die or a bit of raw mechanic that a DM just refuses to cook.

If it were up to me no player character would ever die, unless the player looked me dead in the eye and said, “I think my character should die here.” I like having that sort of agency over my own characters, too, because on some level we all know we don’t have that agency over ourselves.

But I understand the argument that ensuring characters /never/ die ruins immersion for some. It lessens the stakes. Why waste spell slots on healing magic, or play combat strategically at all? D&D is a war-game after all; thinking strategically in a challenging combat session should be fun and rewarding. Why play a game about death if death doesn’t mean anything?

I started by thinking about when a PC death would produce a more interesting and enjoyable experience at the table. Which PC deaths have affected me greatly? Mostly, I liked when characters sacrificed themselves to save others or had done so many terrible things that the only satisfying arc for them would be to be crushed under the weight of their sins.

I liked when player characters’ deaths were, to steal a line from webcomic and undeniable Internet sensation Homestuck, “heroic or just.”

For the uninitiated, Homestuck is a science-fantasy story about four to eight human children who sign up to play a video game and end up sucked into it, fighting for their lives and the right to shape the very fabric of existence. In the game, known as sburb, one can achieve a status known as “god tier.” At this level, the game grants players a certain kind of immortality. If they die, they rise again at the place they first ascended to this prestigious status. But even gods can die. If a god tier character’s death is deemed heroic or just, they are gone for good.

So if a random encounter shows up and takes a sburb player by surprise, overpowering them in an oftentimes silly way, that player can return to the game world soon enough.

If a character has acted heinously, however, and been killed in retribution for a heinous act, they would not return. The game saw this as a satisfying end to a narrative beat. Similarly if they had died saving others, that death was meaningful to the game. That death stuck. Otherwise, what would be the point of the sacrifice?

But “silly” deaths? What’s the point of those? Losing a character in a pointless way only ever discouraged me from exploring.

My first 5e character died because he searched the wrong drawer and found bees. With minimal hit points left after the bee attack, he critically failed a strength check to climb down a ladder (which I now know is not a typical check you have to make) and fell to the bottom of the well, breaking every bone in his body, and rendering him paralyzed and unconscious for his final twelve seconds of life.

Rest In Peace, Peefun Woodlor. He taught me never to trust a Dungeon Master, never to roll Intelligence (Investigation) to search an abandoned home, and to only play within the confines of what the Player’s Handbook says I can do. It took a lot of time to unlearn that behavior, and I never want my players to learn it.

So how do you incorporate “heroic” and “just” into your D&D game? You start where all new ideas should start: with a discussion at your table. At your Session Zero (and beyond; communication happens during and after a game, not just before!), let your players know how you typically handle player death. Ask your players what they think!

I like to tell my players that it’s perfectly normal for a character to hit zero hit points. Once characters have access to resurrection magic, it may even be normal for characters to die. But it is not normal for me to let a character get to those points without a clear path towards recovery. I don’t do that, unless the story and the table agree that it’s what should happen. A death shouldn’t stick unless we all want it to.

And what are the guidelines for us wanting it to? Perhaps, if we’ve discussed it before hand, it’s when a death is judged to be heroic or just. This doesn’t manifest in my games like it does in Homestuck. The body doesn’t immediately resurrect like a Phoenix-Mode Fire Emblem character. I find a narrative reason for that character to stay alive.

For example, if a character were to trip and fall off a hazardous cliff in Waterdeep’s Vault of Dragons at a height that would surely kill them on impact, that is neither heroic nor just. I might place a heaping pile of gold for them to land on, breaking their fall enough so they don’t at least lose their life.

At the end of the day, having healthy discussions about death and concepts from Homestuck will help build trust between you and your players. If I know my DM is here to tell a great story, just like me, and wants me and my character to succeed, I’ll trust them with my best playing. If I know that a DM isn’t wielding death as a “punishment” for behavior they don’t like, but rather as a delicate narrative tool, I’ll be more inclined to explore the world they’ve put in front of me.

I, personally, am not yet at the point where I’m comfortable with my characters dying at the table. But with the right circumstances, and the right group, who knows what I’ll sacrifice for the ones I love, or the Homestuck-styled drama of it all?