원칙

The default tone of Ironsworn is heroic but grounded. Your character is exceptional, but you aren’t a superhero or mythic figure. Add depth to your character by portraying them as a complete and imperfect person. You are flesh and blood. You will fail. You will get hurt. You will make mistakes. You will lose faith. You will act against your better instincts. Make decisions through the flawed perspective of this character.

You will also paint your world in shades of gray. The weather is hostile. Terrors lurk in dark nights and deep forests. Too often, Ironlanders fight and scheme amongst themselves instead of standing together against greater threats. But, there is beauty here. There is love and kinship. The people persevere.

Most of all, there is hope. The act of swearing a vow is an expression of that hope. Seeing it through—no matter the cost—is what makes you a hero.

Set every scene and action within the fiction. What is happening? What are you doing? What does it look like? If a move is triggered, make it. Then, look to the fiction to resolve the move and decide what happens next. Keep things moving forward, bookending the mechanics of your moves with the fiction.

Ironsworn rules, moves, and assets often use the term “envision.” This word is your reminder to visualize the scene or the action. Don’t rush through your moves with a focus on the mechanical outcomes. Let your story breathe. Go beyond the surface details. Ask questions (or Ask the Oracle), and build on the answers.

When playing with others, describing your character’s intent and actions is part of the conversation you share at your table. When playing solo, take the time to imagine the scene and take note of important details.

To learn more about the fiction and fictional framing, see page 205.

When you begin your campaign, your characters are actors on an empty stage. At first, everything is hidden in shadow. Gradually, the stage is assembled. The lights come up, showing texture and details. Your characters reveal themselves through action and dialogue. Other characters—some important, some unimportant—are introduced. Elements that seemed little more than stage dressing become a focus of the story.

Because roleplaying doesn’t have the luxury of lights, sets, props, and actors, you use the conversation at the table to build your story and your world. The deeper the conversation, the more you reveal of what is happening onstage, the more opportunities you will find to take your story in interesting new directions. Ask questions of each other to help create a coherent, shared picture of what is happening in the fiction. Deepen your setting and your characters by adding evocative details. You’ll be surprised how often an offhand suggestion can snowball into exciting story possibilities.

When something is uncertain, you can Ask the Oracle and work together to interpret the answer. When playing with a GM, they are your oracle.

Be a generous, collaborative player. Within scenes, work to keep each character visible and each player engaged. Remember to use the Aid your Ally move to interact with the moves other players are making. Use the conversation to give everyone input into the narrative.

For your broader campaign, don’t let one character’s vow drive your story through every session. Mix it up. Give each character opportunities to explore their own motivations and quests, and find ways to give everyone a personal stake in your sworn vows.

When you play Ironsworn with other players, the shared conversation helps create a story that lives beyond the game table. As a solo player, your character and your world exist only for you. This can make your story feel a bit fleeting and unimportant.

To help ground your session, keep a record at whatever level of detail you prefer. This can be a few bullet points in a text file, a journal filled with sketches and notes, or even a detailed play report you share on a forum or blog. There’s no wrong answer here. Use whatever approach works for you and is an enjoyable aspect of your play.

Creating a record also makes it easier to pick up where you left off when you return to the Ironlands.

Oracles are a valuable tool for solo play, but don’t let them replace your own storytelling instincts. If it’s dramatic, fits the fiction, and pushes your story forward, make it happen. Use oracles when you don’t have an immediate answer to a question, or when triggered by a match.

The Pay the Price random table (page 105), in particular, isn’t something you should roll on for every failure. Note the first option in this move: “Make the most obvious negative outcome happen.” Let the result of your failed moves flow from the fiction. Make the occasional oracle roll for added uncertainty and surprise.

As a solo player, you have control over the challenges you face and the outcomes of your actions. Don’t let this control keep you from missing out on dramatic opportunities. A great story requires adversity. Failure makes success meaningful. When in doubt, err on the side of the dramatic, even (and especially) when it turns your character’s life upside down or takes your story in an unplanned direction.

When you fail in a critical moment, make it hurt. Consider ways to represent this failure beyond shifting the value of one of your tracks. Take away something you cherish. Find yourself betrayed by someone you trusted. See your plans crumble. Narrative cost is a powerful storytelling tool.

DELIVER ANSWERS, OR TURN QUESTIONS BACK TO THE PLAYERS

If you are the GM, the players will look to you to answer questions about the world and help determine the outcome of moves. When they do, you can answer their question, keeping in mind the fictional framing you’ve established through play. If you see a chance to surprise or delight your players, take it.

You should also look for opportunities to facilitate conversations at your table. Encourage your players to add details and ground every move in the fiction. Answer a question by asking questions. Work to create a shared world and narrative which everyone has stake in. If a conversation hits a dead end or drags on, take the question back, deliver an answer (or Ask the Oracle), and move on.

You are the guide for your players as they explore the world and the story of their characters. You set the scenes and portray the creatures and characters they encounter. When the narrative hits a lull, you make something happen. But, you are a guide with a vague map and an unreliable compass. Let the players choose their path. Moderate the conversation without dominating it.

For campaign play, you facilitate character creation and worldbuilding to create the framework for your shared story. For a one-shot session (page 231), you can come prepared with a quest outline (page 200) to make the most of the limited time available. No matter what the format of your session, don’t resist when everything goes completely and gloriously off-course.

Don’t overprepare for your session. Feel free to come to the table with absolutely nothing planned. The character-driven quests help you and your players build a story together. Anything that is not a player character or move has very little mechanical detail, and can be introduced on the fly.

Letting go of your plans leaves you open to the unexpected. Cheer for surprising successes. Seize the story possibilities of dramatic failures. Listen to the players and let their suggestions inspire you.

You can also leverage the oracles for answers and inspiration. Ask a yes/ no question through the Ask the Oracle move (page 107), or interpret an response from the oracle tables (page 167). You can even collaborate with your players to interpret an oracle’s answer.