Getting Hurt
And getting better — if you're lucky
In this game, violence has consequences. There are no bags of hit points to whittle down while your character fights at full power. Every wound makes you worse at everything, and that changes how you think about every fight.
The Death Spiral
When you take damage, fill in boxes on your hit point track starting from the top
tier (OK). Each tier holds 7 + BR boxes. When a tier
is full, you move to the next one and immediately take its penalty — applied
to every roll you make.
| Tier | Status | Penalty |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | OK | None — you're fine |
| 2 | Harmed | −10% to all rolls |
| 3 | Maimed | −25% to all rolls |
| 4 | Incapacitated | −50% to all rolls — you're barely conscious |
First real wound you take, everything changes. Your hands shake. Your aim drifts. Take another and you can barely hold your weapon. I've seen people try to fight through it — push past the pain and keep swinging. Most of them are dead now. The ones who lived are the ones who knew when to run. That line between brave and stupid? Thinner than you think.
Kael has 9 HP per tier (BR +2). A thug shoots him with a revolver — 2d6 = 9 damage. That's a firearm, so Kael's leather coat uses its Ballistic rating: 0. No protection. All 9 damage fills his OK tier. He's standing, but barely.
The second shot lands: 2d6 = 8. Still Ballistic — still no soak. Eight points overflow into Harmed. Now Kael's Melee target drops from 66 to 56. His aim, his footwork, everything — the pain is making him slower and sloppier.
If that thug had a knife instead? The leather coat's Martial rating of 2 would absorb some of the damage. Different armor for different threats. This is why you think about what you're wearing — and what you're facing.
Exhaustion
Everyone has an exhaustion track — it's not just for casters. It works
identically to wounds: four tiers, 7 + PW boxes each,
same escalating penalties. But instead of physical injury, it tracks everything that
wears down your mind and spirit: magical drain, sleep deprivation, stun grenades,
psychological stress, overexertion. Anything that hurts without leaving a wound
lands here.
| Tier | Status | Penalty |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | OK | None |
| 2 | Wearied | −10% to all rolls |
| 3 | Drained | −25% to all rolls |
| 4 | Overwhelmed | −50% to all rolls |
And here's the cruel part: wound and exhaustion penalties stack. A fighter who's Harmed (-10%) and Wearied from a flashbang (-10%) is rolling at -20% to everything. The death spiral doesn't just punish you for one kind of damage — it punishes you for existing in a dangerous world.
Kael takes a stun grenade to the face. No wound damage — but 8 points of exhaustion flood his track. His 5 EP per tier (PW −2) means that fills OK entirely and pushes 3 into Wearied. He's already Harmed from a gunshot. That's −10% from wounds and −10% from exhaustion. Every roll he makes is at −20% now. The room is spinning. His hands are shaking. And there are still two guys with knives.
Going Down
When you fill your Incapacitated tier on the hit point track, you collapse. Your weapon clatters to the ground. You can't act, can't speak above a whisper. But you're not dead yet — you're bleeding out, and the clock is ticking.
Every 3 counts on the timing track, you roll a death save: a straight d100, no modifiers, no skills. The dice decide.
Exhaustion works differently. When your exhaustion track fills completely, you don't make death saves — you're mentally shattered but still breathing. Any further exhaustion overflows into physical damage at half rate (rounded down), and that damage fills your hit point track. If it pushes you past Incapacitated on HP, then death saves begin. The mind breaks first. The body follows.
| Roll | Result |
|---|---|
| 01 | Instant stabilization — you stop bleeding on your own. Unconscious but safe. |
| 02–49 | Holding on. You're still dying, but not worse. The clock keeps ticking. |
| 50–99 | Failure. Mark it down. Three failures and you're gone. |
| 00 | Dead. Immediately. No saving throw, no last words. Just gone. |
Three failures kill you. The fastest possible death — three bad rolls in a row — takes 9 counts. But most of the time, you'll get a mix of holds and failures. A typical bleed-out lasts 12 to 18 counts. That's your window. That's how long your friends have to save you.
Saving a Downed Ally
You have options, and none of them are free. Everything costs time on the timing track, and the dying character's clock doesn't stop while you act.
Medicine check (speed 5) stabilizes the patient. They stop making death saves and fall unconscious. This is the reliable option — no magic needed, just skill and a few seconds you might not have.
A Mend spell actually heals hit points, pulling them back from the edge. But casting takes time too, and if you're in the middle of a fight, you're giving up your action to save someone else.
A healing potion (speed 3 to administer) is the fastest option. Expensive, consumable, and worth every coin when your friend is bleeding out on the floor.
Kael goes down at count 14. At count 17, he rolls his first death save: 63. That's a failure. Sera abandons her spell and declares a Medicine check — speed 5, so it resolves at count 22. At count 20, Kael rolls again: 31. Holding on. One failure, one hold. At count 22, Sera's Medicine check lands. Kael is stabilized with one failure on the sheet. He'll live — but he's not waking up anytime soon, and Sera just gave up the most important spell of the fight to save him.
Death saves are deliberately simple — no stat bonuses, no modifiers. When you're bleeding out on the floor, your combat prowess and willpower don't matter. What matters is whether your allies can reach you in time. The tension belongs to the people still standing, not the person on the ground.
Death saves are the most dramatic rolls in the game. Slow them down. Describe the character's breathing. Let the table go quiet. A d100 roll that determines whether someone lives or dies deserves more than 'roll it.' Make the moment matter.
Recovery
Rest heals. Not quickly — this isn't a "long rest and you're fine" game — but steadily:
| Type | Rate | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Physical damage | 1d4 HP per hour of full rest | +1d4 with medical care |
| Exhaustion | 1d8 EP per hour of full rest | Mental strain recovers faster than flesh |
| Armor repair | Metalworking or Repair check | Needs downtime and tools |
That means after a bad fight, the party might need to hole up for several hours before they're fit to continue. Time pressure matters in this game — every hour spent resting is an hour the cult spends completing their ritual.
Rest is a luxury. Out on the gradient, you don't always get three days to heal. You patch what you can, you lean on whoever knows Vivimancy, and you keep moving. The job doesn't wait for you to feel better.
