ENCOUNTERS
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Whether it’s a chivalric duel between knights or a clash of fire-wielding mages, combat in Heart & Steel is fast, dangerous, and always dramatic. It’s not about tracking every inch of movement or grinding through hit points—it’s about moments of glory, desperate gambits, and hard choices.
Keep these principles close when the blades are drawn:
Anything can be a weapon. No sword? No problem. Use your fists, a torch, a chair leg, or the burning brazier in the hall. If it makes sense in the narrative, you can fight with it.
Heart matters as much as steel. You don’t need Hunt, Break, or Hack to make an impact. Ingenuity, bravery, and timing can turn the tide. A clever plan or daring move often beats a sharp blade.
Victory isn't always found in death. Driving the foe away, forcing a surrender, or simply living to fight another day are all victories. Are you prepared to show mercy?
Shift focus. Everyone deserves a moment to shine. Let the spotlight shift naturally from ally to enemy to ally—combat is a conversation, not a checklist.
One Roll. Every turn should live or die on a single roll. Don’t drown action in dice—draw all the drama from that moment. Let the roll answer everything: the strike, the cost, the consequence. A twist doesn’t mean a second roll—it means the story just took a sharper turn.
Death Is a Choice. Characters die when players decide their time has come. Damage and wounds may scar you, but character death is a story beat, not a math equation.
Combat flows back and forth like a song. When the clash begins, the side that struck first takes the opening turn. After that, sides alternate. On your side’s turn, the players decide together who acts. After that turn, the focus shifts back to the opposition. This rhythm continues until the battle ends.
If there’s no clear instigator, the players decide who moves first.
On your turn, you have enough time to move and then take one meaningful action, in that order. That action might be an attack, a leap to higher ground, or a shouted command that rallies allies. How long it takes in the fiction doesn’t matter—the question is: Did you change the fight?
A couple of key terms come up often during combat.
Distance is handled in four simple measures:
Near: Arm’s reach. Grapples, dagger thrusts, whispers.
Close: A few paces away. A single move brings you to striking range.
Far: Beyond a quick dash. It’ll take your one or several turns to reach them—or a well-aimed arrow.
Distant: So far they’re scenery. Even arrows can’t carry that far.
An attack is either made in melee or at range.
Melee rule at a Near distance, sometimes Close if you move first.
Ranged attacks thrive at Close or Far distance. Arrows, thrown spears, alchemical bombs, or spells that bite. If a foe is Near, your ranged attacks trigger an attack from them.
Where you stand—and what you stand on—matters. Battling on a narrow bridge, shoving someone toward a great bonfire, or fighting in the crush of a banquet hall can all grant eor impose risks.
Injuries are temporary chains often caused by unique attacks, catching a disease, or taking a large amount of damage that can't be absorbed by a truth. While injured, you might...
Be forced to cut some checks.
Temporarily lose a sense or a truth.
Gain a negative effect with some actions.
An attack might be a sword stroke, a hurled spear, a crushing tackle, or a clever use of the environment. In Heart & Steel, attacking isn’t about counting hit points—it’s about breaking truths and forcing change.
When you attack, you’re working to fill a chain tied to your foe’s resolve, position, or protection. Each link marked brings them closer to yielding—or breaking. When the chain is full, something gives: a weapon shatters, a shield falls, or a spirit falters. Most foes surrender long before death claims them.
The mechanics behind attacks in combat are the same as for any other situation: state your intent, choose a skill that fits your approach, roll the dice, and play out the results.
✦ Triumph: You carve a path forward. Deal 2 damage and seize a new advantage—through position, gambit, or sheer momentum.
⬖ Struggle: A glancing blow. Deal 1 damage, but a complication follows.
⊗ Fumble: A sorry strike. You still deal 1 damage, but the battle tilts against you. Shift to a worse position, lose footing, break a provision, or take harm yourself.
⧉ Twist: A flourish of fate! The foe reels, a gambit pays off, or they become vulnerable to the next attack. Twists stack with other results.
Every creature you face bears truths and chains, just like you. Damage strains truths, link by link. Whenever a creature takes damage, they decide which one of their truths takes strain equal to the damage. If a truth's chain is filled completely, that truth becomes useless—steel shatters, courage falters, or pride gives way. Read more on damage and severity here.
Most foes surrender long before death claims them. Only the truly mindless—or truly devoted—fight to the last breath. Are you prepared to show them mercy?
Sometimes an attack is about more than harm. You might try to disarm a knight, pin a foe beneath a fallen beam, or set the hall ablaze. Describe your gambit as part of your action. Minor gambits often happen alongside dealing damage. Greater gambits trade some or all damage to set up your band members for glory.
A particularly bold or risky gambit may change the tide of the battle but generates severe consequences on failure. The GM may Curse your roll—fortune rarely favors the reckless without a price. Some example gambits are listed below.
Minor Gambits
push, shove, feint, knock, interfere, reposition
Greater Gambits
topple, pin, corner, expose, blind, grapple, isolate
Risky Gambits
disarm, target weak spot, ignite, shatter, cripple, drag, disable
A blade in hand makes life easier—it guarantees a damage type and keeps you in control. But if you find yourself unarmed, don’t despair. A torch, a rock, or even a wine jug might serve. Creativity in combat often brings new opportunities for gambits.
The company tracks a gang of roadside brigands to their hideout—rough men who’ve been bleeding traveling merchants dry.
Game Master: "The bandit charges toward you, hatchet raised high. Kneville, how do you respond?"
Kneville the Knight: "I plant my feet and brace with my shield, trying to knock him back! Endure feels right—two ranks. Courage grants me an edge!"
Rolls 5, 4, and 2. A Struggle.
Gm: "You catch the blow on your shield with a bone-jarring thud. You hold, but not cleanly—take 1 Hack damage as the edge bites in. His hatchet is wedged deep; you’re locked together, teeth gritted. Who’s next?"
Kneville: "My turn now! I’ll rip the shield upward and fling his weapon away to disarm the bandit. Sunder skill, three ranks."
Gm: "Bold move. It’s risky—you’re under pressure, so the roll is Cursed."
Kneville: "Bring it on."
Rolls 6, 6, 2, and drops the Twist. Still a Triumph.
Gm: "Beautiful. The axe wrenches free and clatters across the floor. He stumbles, wide open—the next strike against him gains an Edge. Who seizes it?"
When the blow comes, the dice are yours. Enemies don’t roll—they declare, and you react. The GM says what’s coming: a cleaving axe, a rain of arrows, a shove toward the firepit. You decide how you meet it: duck, parry, crash back with your shield—or leap for the nearest table.
Like your own attacks, enemies can deal more damage and attempt gambits. The better you roll, the more likely you are to escape unharmed.
✦ Triumph: You completely avoid the threat. You take no damage, and gambits fail. Some monsters may still harm you through sheer power.
⬖ Struggle: You spoil the worst of it. Gain Resistance to the attack, but you suffer a lesser cost: ground lost or footing broken.
⊗ Fumble: You pay the full price. The foe deals their full damage, and any gambit lands. You might lose some provision or leave yourself open.
⧉ Twist: You seize the moment: counterstrike, flip their gambit, or set up an ally. Twists stack with other results.