Susan JessicaOkay, so here’s the thing: death? Big topic. Heavy stuff. And I—not exactly someone who seeks out heavy things—decided to face it head-on. No, I didn’t sign up for a ghost-hunting adventure or try to join a cult. But I did something almost as weird: I decided to dive into the teachings of Kelemvor. You know, the Forgotten Realms god of death. Yeah, I know. Sounds like a casual Saturday night at a horror-themed escape room, right?
Anyway, here’s the kicker: I didn’t just get philosophical or do some light reading. I dove in. And, I won’t lie, it freaked me out. Fast forward past three panic attacks and a few too many existential questions, and I’ll tell you what happened.
Who the Heck is Kelemvor, Anyway?
Before I get into how I practically turned into a nervous wreck, let me back up for a sec and give you the lowdown on Kelemvor. Imagine a god whose job is all about death. Not the “grim reaper, skull-faced, you’re dead, deal with it” kind of death, but more like, “Hey, your time’s up, let me make sure you get to the afterlife without drama” kind of death. So yeah, a little different.
Kelemvor isn’t some crazy-death-god trying to scare people into being good. Nope, he’s all about balance and fairness. He’s the judge of souls in the afterlife. Imagine Judge Judy, but instead of lawsuits, it’s about whether or not you were a jerk in life. Honestly? At first, that sounded pretty chill. I thought, “Hey, I can totally deal with a god who is impartial.” Famous last words, huh?
Kelemvor’s whole thing is guiding souls to their final destination. There’s no dramatic “heaven or hell” type of thing, just a sort of peaceful transition. And if I’m being real with you, I thought it sounded pretty comforting. The kind of death I could get behind. Except, uh, when I started digging deeper, I realized… I was WAY out of my depth.
The First Moment: Oh Crap, Mortality’s Real
So, I dive into the teachings of Kelemvor. Everything seems fine. Death? I can handle it. Judgment? Totally chill. But then… then it hit me. Mortality is real. Like really real.
I’m talking the kind of real that makes you stop and think about all the dumb things you’ve done in life—stuff like skipping out on that one meeting at work you totally should’ve attended, or like, idk, that time I accidentally ate expired yogurt last week and didn’t die. For real, how am I still alive after that?
Kelemvor’s teachings forced me to face one basic truth: we’re all gonna die. I mean, yeah, we all know this in theory, but it’s a whole different thing when you’re sitting alone, Googling “what happens after death” at 2 AM and feeling a mild sense of panic.
The more I thought about it, the worse it got. What if I hadn’t lived my best life? What if the soul judgment wasn’t in my favor? What if my biggest life mistake was watching too much Netflix and not enough self-improvement videos? Ugh. I needed a nap just thinking about it.
Kelemvor’s Judgment: It’s Not Like “The Bachelor” Rose Ceremony
Okay, so here’s the thing with Kelemvor. When you die (no spoilers here, we all know it’s coming), your soul gets judged. Sounds like an episode of The Bachelor, right? You think, “Okay, I’ve got this,” and maybe you’ll get a rose—or maybe just some existential soul-crushing realization that your life’s been one big mess.
But here’s the difference: Kelemvor isn’t handing out roses or shouting “I’m sorry, but you’re not ready for the afterlife.” He’s impartial. The man (god?) just judges your soul without any bias. He takes no sides. No drama. No “you were a good person, but you didn’t take out the trash enough” nonsense. He’s about balance. So, when I first thought about being judged, I figured, Okay, this isn’t too bad. Then I imagined Kelemvor going through a list of my questionable life choices: “Ah yes, skipping your high school prom and staying home to play Final Fantasy VII. Very mature.”
Fast forward: I don’t feel so great about my judgment anymore. Is he gonna judge me based on my mood swings, or the seasonal phases of my life? What if I was a “meh” person when it came to kindness, but he holds me accountable for the one time I snapped at a barista for forgetting my oat milk? (Ugh, I was a monster that day. Sorry, Sarah from the local café.)
The Afterlife: Do I Need a Return Ticket?
Okay, so judgment’s over. Then what? Well, Kelemvor’s teachings don’t exactly hand you a map of the afterlife like it’s some theme park. I mean, what if I get a ticket to some boring afterlife, like sitting around a cloud with my distant relatives talking about taxes for eternity? I don’t even know how to survive that.
I was hoping for something cozy, like sitting by a fire with a good book in hand and maybe a really strong cup of coffee. But instead, I had to confront the real possibility that Kelemvor’s afterlife is nothing like the fuzzy, comforting idea I had in mind. There’s no guarantee of eternal joy or restful slumber. Nope, just the impartial judgment of your soul and… well, who knows after that?
It’s like waiting for the final results of an exam that determines the rest of your life, but the teacher won’t even tell you what your grade means.
Kelemvor, What Have You Done to My Life?
Here’s the thing: after all this Kelemvor stuff, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was living. Like, what’s my legacy? Was I living my life just to get by? Was I kind to my neighbors? Did I help the homeless guy outside my favorite diner last Thursday? Oh, crap, I totally didn’t—does that mean I’m gonna get, like, a one-way ticket to… what, the DMV of the afterlife?
So yeah, Kelemvor made me rethink things. Not the “rainbows and puppies” kind of way, but more of the “I need to be more conscious of my life choices or I’m in big trouble” kind of way. He didn’t offer me any easy answers. But that’s the point, right? He’s the god of death—not a therapist.
And as much as I wanted to scream “It’s too much!” I couldn’t help but respect the wisdom. Kelemvor isn’t about comforting you. He’s about teaching you how to face the inevitable—death—and live in a way that won’t make you regret it when you get there.
The Conclusion I Never Wanted to Write
So, yeah, I tried to face death. And honestly? It messed with me. I’m not kidding. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d learned something useful. Death doesn’t care how many followers you have on social media. It doesn’t care how many Instagram posts you’ve made in your lifetime. But living a life with intention? With kindness? That’s what matters. And even though I totally freaked out at first, I’m better for it.
Kelemvor didn’t give me a sugar-coated version of death. He gave me the truth: it’s coming for all of us. And if I’m lucky, I’ll live a life worth judging.
But, uh, maybe next time I’ll think twice before Googling “what happens after death” at 2 AM. Some things are best left to the experts.
