So You Want to Run Eyes Turned Skyward
I picked this up when it first came out and ran it a handful of times before moving on to other things. The card system is genuinely clever, but it's also got some rough edges that aren't obvious until you're three hours into a session and someone keeps flipping the wrong way on their deck. This is a World War II-era alternate history roleplaying game. Instead of dice, you resolve everything with a custom deck of cards. Each card has two faces - a skull side and a non-skull side - and which one matters depends on how you look at the card relative to the action taking place. It sounds confusing on paper, which is fair, but it clicks once you get it. The core concept is straightforward. You're playing people in an alternate 1940s where the Axis powers didn't win but the world is still pretty messed up. Different factions have different levels of control depending on where you are. There's technology that never should exist. Nazi UFOs, Soviet super-weapons, American jet fighters that arrived early. That's the flavor the game leans into hard.
The Card System Explained
Here's how the resolution actually works in practice, not how the book describes it. Everyone involved in a scene has a deck. When a conflict happens, you lay out cards from your decks simultaneously. The key is that each card can be read in two ways. If the skull is facing you, it's one meaning. If you rotate it 180 degrees, it's a completely different meaning. This creates this weird tension where both players are reading their own cards while trying to figure out what the other person is doing. The cards have symbols on them - swords, shields, eyes, skulls, stars - and each symbol means something specific depending on orientation. A sword facing one way might represent aggression. Flip it around and it represents defense or protection. An eye that's upside down doesn't mean you're blind. It means something else entirely, something about being watched without realizing it. Here's the part the book doesn't make clear enough: the orientation rule is relative to the character, not relative to the table. You are always holding your cards upright from your own perspective. When you play a card, it goes face-up on the table in front of you. Other players see it sideways because they're sitting at different angles around the table. This is where most groups trip up on their first session. I've seen it happen every single time. Someone will say "I'm playing a skull-up card" and the other players will lean in and read it from their own perspective, getting a completely different meaning than what was intended. We solved this by just using a small token or a coin to mark which end is "up" on each played card. Takes five seconds and eliminates an entire category of arguments.
How to Actually Set Up Your First Session
You need the official deck. You can download it from the publisher's website for free. There's a printer-friendly PDF with full-color cards laid out on standard paper sizes. Print them on cardstock if you can find some, because standard printer paper gets ridiculous after about twenty minutes of shuffling and dealing. Glossy cardstock is ideal. Regular cardstock works fine. Cheap printer paper means you'll be re-printing within a few sessions. If you don't want to print them, there are third-party options. I've used the cardboard versions from a company called Alderac Entertainment Group and they're decent but expensive for a single deck. Worth it if you plan to run this game regularly. Not worth it for a one-shot. Here's a realistic problem I ran into during my second session. Someone printed the cards on regular paper, cut them out, and then tried to use them. The cards were too light. They kept sliding around on the table. Wind from the air conditioning would move them. We ended up just taping each card to the table with a tiny piece of blue painter's tape at the top edge. The tape doesn't damage the cards and it solves the problem completely. Every player got their own little square of table real estate with their card pinned down. It looked a bit silly but it worked perfectly.
Get the Full Details
Character Creation
Character creation in this system is quick, maybe twenty minutes per person. You pick a faction, a role, and a set of skills. The factions are basically the major powers of this alternate timeline. Americans, Soviets, Germans, Japanese, British, and a few smaller ones. Your faction determines what resources you have access to and what the world looks like where you operate. Skills are represented by placing markers on a track. There's a limited number of markers, so you can't be good at everything. This forces interesting choices. Do you make your character competent at combat but a mess socially? Or are you a skilled diplomat who can't shoot straight? The game doesn't punish you for being bad at something. It just means you'll fail more often and the story will go in a direction you didn't plan. One thing that catches people off guard: your faction isn't just flavor. It mechanically affects what cards you draw and what options are available to you. Playing as a German operative in this timeline gives you access to different card pools than playing as an American operative. The card pools are balanced but they feel very different. Germans tend toward tech and weapons. Americans tend toward leadership and coordination. Soviets tend toward endurance and mass. It's a simplification but it works at the table.
Running a Session
Here's what actually happens when you run this game. The GM describes a situation. Players say what their characters do. When something uncertain or dangerous occurs, you resolve it with cards. Simple conflicts are one card from each participant. More complicated scenes might go several rounds. The GM also has a deck and plays cards to represent the world pushing back. The GM deck is where most people go wrong. The rules give you guidance but it's easy to overuse the GM deck. Every time a player does something interesting, don't automatically pull a card. Only pull when there's genuine uncertainty or stakes. If a player says "I convince the guard to let us pass" and you know the guard is easily convinced, just say yes. Pulling a card for something that has no real chance of failure just slows the game down and frustrates players who feel like the game is constantly working against them. I learned this the hard way on my third session. I was being too aggressive with the GM deck. Someone would do something and I'd immediately flip a card to create complications. The players started hesitation around acting. They'd ask "should I roll?" or "what happens if I try this?" instead of just saying what they wanted to do. I pulled back, stopped automating complications, and the session immediately got better. Players acted freely again. The game moved faster. The drama came from the situations, not from the card system manufacturing conflict.
Counter-Intuitive Things About This Game
The biggest thing beginners miss is that the card system isn't really about generating random outcomes. It's about creating narrative tension through ambiguity. The same card can mean different things depending on orientation, and the players have to negotiate what their card means in context. This negotiation is where the fun is. Don't rush past it. Don't say "it's a sword so it's an attack" and move on. Let the player say what their card represents. Let the other player respond with their card. The back-and-forth is the game. Another thing nobody warns you about: the card system rewards preparation but punishes over-preparation. If you come to the table knowing exactly what every card means in every orientation, you'll dominate every scene. But the game is designed so that even experts will sometimes draw cards they can't effectively use in a given situation. That's intentional. It creates vulnerability and forces adaptation. The players who try to min-max the card system end up frustrated because the system is designed to keep them humble.
Pitfalls to Avoid
Don't read every card aloud. This is the fastest way to kill a session. When a player flips a card, they should know what it means. If they don't, let them figure it out during play. Looking up every card reference takes forever and breaks momentum. Keep the rules near the table but only consult them when absolutely necessary. Don't make every conflict resolve through cards. Some scenes should just be roleplayed. If two characters are having a conversation and there's no real stakes, don't pull cards. Save the card system for moments where the outcome is genuinely uncertain. The game works best when cards feel special, not when they're the default response to every action. Don't ignore the tone. This is an alternate history game about World War II with science fiction elements. It's not a serious historical simulation. It's pulp adventure with a dark undercurrent. The best sessions embrace the absurdity while treating the characters' struggles as real. Nazi zombies are funny in concept but terrifying when you're playing a character who just watched their squad mate get eaten by one.
Where to Get It
The core rulebook and card deck are available as a free download from the official Eyes Turned Skyward website. There are also supplement books that add new factions, new card types, and new settings. The official site is the primary source. Third-party publishers like Pelgrane Press have released compatible materials over the years. If you want physical cards, ordering directly from the publisher is usually cheapest. Amazon and other retailers carry them but mark them up significantly. The digital version is sufficient for most groups and saves money.
Final Thoughts
Eyes Turned Skyward is a solid game for the right group. It's not for everyone. If your players hate cards, hate negotiation around rules, or prefer deterministic resolution systems, this won't work for you. But if your group is okay with a bit of crunch and doesn't mind pausing to figure out card orientations, it can produce memorable sessions. I've had some of my best alternate history RP moments running this system. The card mechanic creates these spontaneous storytelling moments that dice never quite replicate. The awkward fumbling over which way a card is facing? That's not a bug. That's the game telling you to slow down and engage with the moment.
