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In the worlds of the Ironsworn games — the Ironlands, the Forge, and the Sundered Isles — iron vows are sacred. When you hold a piece of iron and declare your solemn promise to serve or aid someone, or to complete a personal quest, your honor is bound to that vow. Abandoning or recanting an iron vow is the worst sort of failure.

These vows propel your character into action. They create the context for your adventures and challenges.

Some Ironsworn and Starforged players ignore the thematic element of the iron vows entirely. Which is fine! Iron vows may not align with how you envision your characters or setting. It's easy enough to reskin the quest moves without the "swear on iron" aspect.

But I'd like to offer five points in defense of iron vows, and as encouragement to incorporate this element of the fiction into your adventures.

#1 - Iron Vows Set the Stakes

Iron vows are meaningful. You are bound by them, and forsaking a vow has fictional and mechanical consequences. The Ironsworn rulebook has this to say about the cost of abandoning or failing a quest:

"For an Ironsworn, realizing you must Forsake Your Vow is a dramatic and disheartening decision. Tradition says the item upon which you swore your vow—your sword, your armor, the iron coin—is discarded. Some clans even believe you must cast away all your weapons and armor and bear no iron until you redeem yourself.

"Mechanically, you Endure Stress, reducing your spirit track by an amount equal to the rank of your quest. Narratively, you should consider how your failure affects your story and what you do to put yourself back on the proper path. Did you swear this vow in service to others? How does this impact your relationship with them? If your vow was a personal quest, how does this failure force you to rethink the path your life has taken? Where do you go from here?"

Considering the cultural implications of these vows, is your character likely to commit to a sworn quest without a second thought? Probably not. Therefore, you (the player) focus on the things that have meaning to your character and their world, raising the stakes for success and failure. Does every quest have world-shaking importance? Probably not. Does every quest matter? Yes.

#2 - Iron Vows are Timeless

When first developing Starforged, I considered whether iron vows would survive the transition into a sci-fi setting. Would it feel anachronistic? Should I rework the quest moves to something more mundane? 

In the end, I decided removing vows would take the Ironsworn out of an Ironsworn game. I imagined iron vows as an ancient tradition that had survived into the present day and beyond. If the descendants of the Ironlanders took to space, could the tradition of iron vows go with them? 

Iron is inherently thematic. It evokes steadfastness and strength. It reminds us of long-ago people and age-old crafts, of hammer and axe, of sword and banded shield.

More impressively, Iron could be called a star-killer. When a massive star burns through its nuclear fuel, it starts fusing heavier elements, eventually creating iron. But unlike lighter elements, iron can't undergo fusion to release energy. Without the energy from fusion to counteract gravity, the star's core collapses — and boom, a supernova. The iron we have on Earth is a relic of those stellar explosions. Hold a piece of iron and you might feel the slightest thrum of energy, a whisper of the power of its long-dead progenitor star. It's no wonder folks feel a supernatural connection to these objects.

And don't get hung up on iron as seemingly a metal of another age. Steel is an iron alloy. In imagined futures, we can think of the totem your character carries as an advanced alloy or the byproduct of a stellar anomaly. Folks just refer to these as iron as a nod to old traditions. The Starforged truths allude to this with the enigmatic Black Iron, a relic of alien civilizations.

#3 - Iron Vows Transcend the Fiction 

Both in the fiction and at the table, swearing a vow is significant. It's ritualistic. It forces you to pause, consider the moment, and envision how your character enacts the vow.

Want to take this a step further? Use a physical object at the table — one that mimics or evokes your character's iron token, or that is personally significant to you. Take it in your hand when you swear an iron vow. Close your eyes. Imagine how your character feels in this moment. Say the words aloud. Let this ritual serve as a bridge between you and your imagined world.

#4 - Iron Vows Mark Your Character as Special

Your character might be unique in many ways. Perhaps they are highly competent in a particular trade or skill. They might have a backstory that sets them apart. Or they wield supernatural abilities.

But above those things, they are Ironsworn. They are driven by their promises, bound to sworn quests by an almost-mystical tether. Others might view them as noble, foolhardy, or both. But it does not matter.

Anyone can make a promise. Only the Ironsworn swear iron vows.

#5 - Iron Vows are Dramatic

Iron vows create a heightened atmosphere for your story. Your world is one of resolute heroes, solemn oaths, and deadly perils. There are mundane and workaday aspects, to be sure. After all, when everything is dramatic, nothing is dramatic. But the iron vows are the framework for a campaign of sacrifice and redemption. Someone once kindly referred to Starforged as "Beowulf meets Firefly," which is a perfect description of the intended tone.

There is an old and oft-repeated piece of advice for writers: "kill your darlings," which means you should get rid of unnecessary elements and passages even if — perhaps especially if — you have an affection for them. The short vignette that follows is the first thing I wrote for Ironsworn. It is a darling worthy of slaying, but it found a place in the rulebook nonetheless. I hope it speaks to how I first imagined the role of Ironsworn and the dramatic burden of their fateful vows.

May all your own vows be fulfilled!