# Making the Call ## *the rules end where your judgment begins* Most of what happens at the table is not in any book. A player describes something and looks at you. The whole game lives in how you answer. This is the everyday version of the work, the calls you make a dozen times a session. The LoreMaster Ability Review covers the larger question of approving a brand-new weapon ability. This covers the rest. ## For the Lore When a Fell reaches for something that would open the story up, let them. This is the rule you lean on hardest. A player who tries the bold, strange, unscripted thing is handing you narrative for free, and your answer is yes wherever you can give it. Saying yes is not the same as handing them the outcome. Allow the attempt, set a fair difficulty, and let the roll feed the world whichever way it lands. The only attempts you turn down are the ones that would stall the table or break canon. An attempt that would grow the story always earns its chance. Caught between a flat no and a yes that costs something, take the yes. The story is the point. ## When to call for a roll Roll when the outcome is uncertain and the result matters. That is the whole test. If either half is missing, do not reach for the dice. > [!note] Do not roll when > > - The Fell would simply succeed. Let them. > - Failure would just stall the story with nothing gained. Find another cost or move on. > - The action has no real stake. A locked door the Fell can work at their leisure does not need a roll. Add a guard rounding the corner and the same lock becomes one. A roll should always be able to go both ways, and both ways should be worth seeing. ## Which skill The player describes what they are trying to do. You name the skill that fits how they are doing it. The Skyvault Engine has twenty-four skills for exactly this reason, so the same goal reached two ways calls for two different rolls. If more than one skill could fit, let the player make their case and pick the one they argue for. If nothing fits cleanly, fall back to the governing attribute. Never tell a player which skill to use before they describe the action. Let the fiction choose the skill. ## How hard You are the difficulty. When a player rolls 1d6 plus their skill, you roll against them, and your die is the dial. > [!note] Setting your roll > > | The task is | You roll | > | --- | --- | > | Within reach for a capable Fell | 1d6 plus a low difficulty | > | A real contest, an opposed effort | 1d6 plus the opposing skill or stat | > | Hard, the kind that should usually cost them | A Lucky roll against them | > | Near impossible, the world resisting hard | A Lucky roll plus a difficulty | > > Pushing in the other direction works the same. When the Fell have earned an edge, take an Unlucky roll against them and let the moment land. Higher result wins. Set the number before they roll, not after. The fastest way to lose a table's trust is to move the target once the die is on the felt. ## Reading the result - **A Fellmark, a 6.** The world notices. The action succeeds and the skill grows by one. Give them more than a bare yes. A Fellmark is a moment, so narrate it like one. - **A Fellstrike, a 1.** It falls apart, and badly. A Fellstrike is not nothing happening. It is the wrong thing happening. The lock breaks in the mechanism. The lie lands on the worst possible ear. - **Everything between.** Compare to your roll and narrate the margin. A near miss is not a flat failure. It is a yes with a cost, or a no with a door still open. ## Failing forward A failed roll should move the story, not freeze it. If a no would stall the whole table, make it a yes that costs something. They get through the door, but the noise brings something. They recall the history, but the memory is wrong in a way they will not learn until later. Keep the world turning even when the Fell stumble.