We would like to thank Putrid Games for providing us with both editions of Death (the free Shareware version and the Extended edition, enriched with extra content) so that we could write this review.
At the moment, you won’t find them online, since the authors have the (rather unusual) habit of publishing and then pulling their games from circulation at regular intervals. For now, if you want to get your hands on Death, the only way is to contact Putrid Games directly.
Dying is not the end. It’s only the beginning. This roleplaying game by Putrid Games doesn’t take you to a world of heroes and glorious adventures, but drags you into a disturbing journey of decaying bodies, feverish visions, and an afterlife that raises more questions than it answers.
Whether in its basic form or the more fleshed-out Extended edition, Death is not a game for those seeking comfort or escapism. It’s a raw, merciless tabletop experience—one that claws at you, leaving behind the sensation of having touched something forbidden. And this is only the start of the descent. This is not a TTRPG for those chasing classic heroism: it’s a plunge into rot, pain, and the very end.
Review the “Heart” of Death
Death is not a game for a casual evening: it is dark, decayed, and deliberately unsettling. It doesn’t want to make you laugh, it doesn’t comfort you with triumphant heroes or a sense of redemption. Instead, it drags you into a world where death, rot, and despair are everywhere, and survival is never guaranteed.
Atmosphere is the true core of the experience: claustrophobic, visceral, always suspended between nightmare and resignation. You won’t find random cursing or gratuitous blasphemy: the language chosen by the authors doesn’t rely on vulgarity for its own sake, but on surgical descriptions that cut deep, claw at you, and leave you with the sensation of being trapped in a hopeless universe.
This is not a game that asks you to “have fun” in the traditional sense, but to immerse yourself in an extreme, uncomfortable, and in some ways therapeutic experience: to face the rot, stare it in the face, and try to understand what remains of humanity when every mask falls away.
Important Note: Death is not a game for everyone. The themes it deals with—as well as the images and words it uses—are deliberately disturbing and can feel heavy or unpleasant. It is designed for those seeking an extreme experience, far removed from the lighthearted fun of many traditional tabletop RPGs. Before bringing it to the table, carefully consider your group’s sensitivity and, if necessary, use safety tools to keep the experience intense but manageable.
Review of Death: System and Mechanics
The ruleset of Death borrows some elements familiar to OSR players, but bends them toward a very different purpose: not to provide tools for victory, but to let you survive a little longer… And suffer better. Here the rules aren’t a way to “beat the dungeon” or “level up the hero”: they are a frame that amplifies the characters’ fragility and the world’s brutality.
The Shareware edition already offers a full core to play with: character generation (starting from the characteristics, the result of rolling 4d6 each), basic resolution (this is a d20 based roll under) and combat mechanics, and guidelines for short adventures. It’s a taste that captures the game’s grim, unsettling tone. The Extended Edition, on the other hand, expands everything: it adds more customization options, advanced survival rules, progression options (if such a word even applies here), and a broader repertoire of narrative prompts to fully immerse yourself in the sick universe envisioned by Putrid Games.
Combat is deliberately brutal and unforgiving. Initiative is established with 1d6: 1-3 characters start, 4-6 enemies. There are no heroic choreographies here—just dirty blows, grievous wounds, and death lurking around every corner. Survival is treated as a daily struggle, with scarce resources and a constant sense of hunger and decay pressing down on you. Character progression is never about pure empowerment, but a slow drag toward new forms of suffering, with the ever-present risk of losing pieces of yourself along the way.
The message is clear: Death isn’t played to “win,” but to endure—badly, filthy, and desperate—within a world that seems eager to swallow everything whole. The rules serve this vision: they tighten the noose and never let it loosen.
Atmosphere, Language, and the Role of the Narrator
One of the strongest aspects of Death is its tone. You won’t find gratuitous blasphemies or tavern-level swearing thrown in just for shock value. The language is direct, raw, and visceral, crafted to drag you into a world that reeks of rotting flesh, clotted blood, and despair. It’s a lexicon that stains your hands: dark, filled with mud, bones, and disease. Here, the “disturbance” doesn’t come from foul language, but from the images evoked—visions of decay, hopeless scenarios, characters who stumble and crawl more than they live.
The rulebook itself feels like it’s whispering in your ear—in a raw, unpolished tone—that everything will go wrong, and that this is part of the game. The writing doesn’t sugarcoat or soften; it strikes with blunt blows, almost like cuts from a blade, hammering over and over with its decadent atmosphere.
In this context, the Narrator isn’t just an arbiter: they are the very embodiment of Death world. Their role isn’t to “challenge” the players, but to constantly remind them that the ground beneath their feet is fragile, that every choice may come at a heavy price, and that decay is inevitable. They amplify the sense of being trapped in a hostile reality, fueling the oppression and making it clear that there is no real escape.
The result is an experience that disturbs more on the narrative and visual plane than on the linguistic one. It’s not a game that assaults you with pointless vulgarity—it wears you down with images, with atmosphere, and with the constant sense that there is no way out.
Who Death Is for and What Kind of Experience It Offers
Death is not a game for everyone. It’s a tabletop experience designed for those who want to try something radically different from the usual heroic fantasy. No knights saving kingdoms, no radiant magic, no hero’s journey. Here you play in the raw flesh of despair, in short, intense stories that almost always end without escape.
Sessions are built to be short, sharp, and burning. There’s no long-term progression that rewards perseverance—only immediate survival, the weight of choices, and the bitter realization that every victory is merely temporary. It’s not a game that asks you to “win”, but to “suffer better”, to tell the story of a world and its inhabitants dragging themselves slowly toward inevitable ruin.
For this reason, it’s a divisive game. If you’re looking for coherence, radicality, and total immersion in disturbing atmospheres, you’ll probably love it. If the idea of abandoning any hope of catharsis or a happy ending turns you away, you’ll likely find it excessive, maybe even off-putting. Either way, Death does not leave anyone indifferent—and that is precisely its greatest strength.
Review of Death Aesthetic
From a visual point of view, Death hits hard: the illustrations are strictly black and white, or black and blood-red, with sharp, violent, and sometimes disturbing strokes. These images immediately drag you into the tone of the game: decay, death, darkness. Adding to this are the blood-red writings that break up the page and catch the eye with an immediate, almost shouted effect.
It’s a graphic style fully coherent with the soul of the manual: grim, raw, and uncompromising. At the same time, not every piece feels like it truly “supports” the text. More often, the drawings seem placed there to shock and impress rather than to clarify or accompany the concepts being explained.
The result is a strong visual impact, at times excessive, but still perfectly aligned with Death philosophy. It doesn’t want you to feel comfortable—it wants to leave you with a lingering sense of unease.
The entire artistic component was created through the use of AI.
Conclusion of the Death Review
Death is a “niche within the niche” game, and it has no shame in being exactly that. It doesn’t try to appeal to everyone—in fact, it actively pushes away those not ready to face a raw, disturbing, uncompromising experience. And it’s precisely this radical stance that makes it unique.
If you’re looking for a lighthearted tabletop RPG or a tale of heroic adventure, stay away. But if you want to sit at the table and truly feel a world where death, decay, and despair take center stage, then Death will hit hard and leave its mark.
This is not a manual you’ll find on the shelves of major publishers, nor a title designed for mass appeal. To try it, you’ll need to go directly to Putrid Games, the creators themselves. That’s where it begins—and that’s where you must go, if you’ve got the courage to face it.
0 Comments