I died quite literally a week before retirement, to name a trope. My adventurer The Muscular Merchant of Decisions had killed many, many monsters, lost many friends, and was ready to settle down. Unfortunately, just before he did so, he was given a task by the town he was going to settle in's leader. To kill a titan. Unfortunately, having killed any who stood before him before, he became proud and went alone. He traveled many miles to the north, on an uninhabited peninsula. He entered the monster's shrine, a stone temple with skeletons and treasure strewn about. The adventurer entered stealth mode until he saw the titan at the crest of a hill. A huge serpent with purple, narrow, long feathers. It had green scales, and poison dripped from it's enormous maw. Large, muscular mandibles sprouted from the corners of it's mouth. The beast was terrifying. But, having the utmost confidence in his abilities, he threw his dagger at the beast. He had misjudged the beast. The dagger bounced off the creature's scales, and alerted it to his presence. It spun around, slithered towards him and struck all in a couple heartbeats. It struck five more times, stunning the dwarf and knocking him backwards down the slope of the hill. He swung his axe at the monster, cutting apart it's scale, but only his scale. Throughout the land, the dwarf was known for his combat skills, his ability to block most forefront. But this serpent was a being only a god could hope to hurt. It bit him upon his leg, and flung him twelve meters to the north. He just barely missed smashing into a large birch tree. He attempted to stand, but realized his upper left leg was broken. The beast was upon him again. He fought with all his might, but all his might was not enough. The titan bashed it's great teeth against his shield, and wrenched it from his grip. He slashed at the beast once more, glinting off of the scales of it's head, before the monster closed it's mouth around his head. He knew no more.
And that is how I lost my favorite adventurer.