Varath
An idle RPG built on a god's death. Mine, craft, fight and master the world of Varath — seventeen skills, a house, a business empire, and somewhere a charter.
A Bronze Age sea, in pixels. Wash up a stranger, learn the coasts' tongues a word at a time, barter, fight and make your way. On a phone or a keyboard.
What it is
Nostos takes its name from the Odyssey's own word for the homecoming. It is a small top-down pixel game set on a closed Bronze Age sea, and the period was chosen because its real institutions already are the mechanics: guest-friendship, gift exchange, and a sailing season that closes whether you are ready or not.
It opens on a wreck. You wake on a beach you have never seen, with no boat and not one word of the language, and you find out who you were in the reflection of a tide pool. There is no clock on anything. It is an early build, made a phase at a time and played between each one, and it plays on a phone as well as a keyboard.
At a glance
What is in it
A wreck at night, then a beach below a town that does not know you. You make yourself at a tide pool: name, face, build, clothes.
Everything anyone says is made of words you may not know yet. People teach you the spoken ones, carved stones the written ones, and a neighbour's dialect is half-readable from the first day.
Walk onto a town's ground and its host comes down to meet you: the cup, the choice, the night, the gift.
No money. Lay your goods on a host's mat. What a thing is worth depends on how far it has come, and nobody buys back their own work.
Melee, woodcutting, fishing, cooking, mining and smithing. Tin is in the west and iron in the east, so a better tool is a voyage.
Also from the studio
An idle RPG built on a god's death. Mine, craft, fight and master the world of Varath — seventeen skills, a house, a business empire, and somewhere a charter.
The same world, walked rather than watched — a 2D tile game generated from Varath's own canon. Tap the ground to move, tap anything to act on it.
Build a hold that never resets, muster champions from the fire, and raid rival holds for what you need. Printed rates, no pity, nothing for sale.
The last two people: a father and his eight-year-old son, crossing the stars in an ark built for 214 that is now their home. Somber, slow, and yours to walk.