The bow stays. The elven eyes stay. Corvus absolutely stays, and for the first time, nothing in the rules can take him away from you.
When Maena acts, you ask: “Which of my tags apply?” Every tag that fits gives +1. Roll two normal six-sided dice. Add. Done.
It happens, clean. Loose the arrow, describe the impact.
It works, but the story twists. The best scenes live here.
Josh makes a move. Trouble, not punishment.
That's the entire vocabulary. No modifiers, no thresholds, no "is 14 passing?"
Short phrases that describe what Maena is. They replace stats, skills, spells, and Corvus's entire stat block. If a tag plausibly helps, it counts.
What Maena is chasing. Quests replace XP, she grows when her story moves: the relic, the cairns, the walls she keeps around herself. Even weaknesses earn growth when they complicate her life.
No hit points. You pick up tiered conditions like winded-2 that subtract from rolls they'd plausibly hinder, then fade with rest. One number. No subtraction chains.
Everything here is something you've already done at the table, and one card holds a story off your own sheet that nobody's told yet.
Session 2, Rizka jumped Mara outside the bar, and you made the shot of the campaign. Here's that exact moment, both ways.
And what stays:
You said it at the table: every time you've played a character with a companion, they ended up severely injured, until it stopped being fun to bring them. In this system, Corvus isn't a creature with 5 hit points standing in moonbeam range. He's a theme, three tags and a Quest called "This time, Corvus comes home safe." Nothing can grind him off the board, because there's no board-piece to grind. The only thing that can ever threaten him is a story, one you'd get to play, not just watch.
And one more secret, from your own sheet: Wayfarer. Thieves' tools. A worn set of dice. A street kid who learned to need no one, now hunting an ancient relic. Where did that lead come from? Tell us whenever you're ready. There's a card waiting for it.