Everything you love about her stays — the horns, the eye-glow, the twin blades, Lysa. The only thing that goes away is the part where we stop the story to do math.
When Vexira 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. Describe how good it looks.
It works, but the story twists. This is where the best scenes come from.
Josh makes a move. Trouble, not punishment.
That's the entire vocabulary. No conditions chart, no proficiency bonus, no action economy.
Short phrases that describe what Vexira is. They replace stats, skills, feats, and spells all at once. If a tag plausibly helps, it counts.
What Vexira is chasing. Quests replace XP — your character grows when her story moves, not when monsters die. Even your weaknesses earn growth when they complicate your life.
Instead of hit points, you pick up tiered conditions like scorched-2. They subtract from rolls they'd plausibly hinder, and fade with rest. One number. No subtraction chains.
Look closely — there's nothing here you don't already do at the table. Two of these themes never even fit on your D&D sheet.
Session 2, about two hours in. Fez knows something about Mara and Bruuk, and you're done waiting. Here's that exact scene — both ways.
And what stays:
The best parts of Vexira — shepherding Lysa through the faire with a pocketful of cookies, facing down Captain Venn over the way this town treats tieflings — were never on your D&D sheet at all. In Legend in the Mist, they're half of it. And that prejudice she keeps running into? Every time it complicates her life, your character grows. The thing that stings becomes the engine.