I was twelve and had just started a campaign with a couple of guys playing 2nd Edition AD&D. The group was looking for new blood. I found out that if a player had to move or something and wasn’t able to play with the group anymore, the DM was in the habit of killing them off in spectacular, save-the-whole-party-with-your-sacrifice kinda ways.
“You shall not pass” kinda ways.
Fast forward a few months, and I have to move to another province and need to quit. I do and I lose touch with the players.
A few years later I’m back in Montreal and I come across my old gaming buddy. We get talking and I remember the game and excitedly ask how my character died.
“Oh, your mage? A wall fell on him.”
(submitted by haplesslad)