FARM HEX
An AoE economy and a Civ map, fought like chess. The ground you are dealt decides the army you can field.
Turn-based 1v1. PvP soon.
The board, up close
Zoom all the way in: the camera flattens and pulls focus on whatever you are holding.
A knight and a brute, mid-exchange. Depth of field is real here — the focal plane sits on the fighters, so the castle behind and the grass in front both go soft.
Held on the piece you picked up. Brackets mark the focal subject; the interface stays sharp.
Pulled back, it is a diagram. Two castles opposite; the two prizes on the other diagonal.
Every match ends in a report. Land, gold, farms and army for both houses, round by round.
The map decides your army
Raise a camp on a forest hex on your half of the board, and from that moment your house fields Rangers. Cut a mine into an outcrop and you get the Knight. You build on the resource itself, so the ground you can see is the tech tree.
Maps are not symmetric, on purpose — and not gently. One house may open onto twenty outcrops while the other has a single crag on its whole side of the board. The woods make you a ranged army that wins by spacing; the crags make you a shock army that wins by closing. Reading which one you have been handed is the first real decision of the match, and it is different every time.
When your half holds exactly one legal mine site, that hex becomes the most valuable ground in the game — and both players know precisely where it is. Scarcity does not handicap you. It tells the war where to happen.
Camp
Raised in the trees — 40. Opens the Ranger, who strikes from two hexes away and takes no blow back.
Mine
Cut into the rock — 45. Opens the Knight, who vaults two hexes and ignores everything between.
Keep
Six of your fields ringing a hex — 60. Two keeps bring the Giant, and the Giant is how castles fall.
Neither works ever runs dry. You raise each one once — and then spend the rest of the match keeping it standing.
And a works is a building on the board, not an upgrade in a menu. Burn theirs and they lose the hero it opened until they rebuild it — so the thing paying for their army is also the thing you can take away.
Six farms make a keep
Farms are income, but they are also ground. Ring a single hex with six of your own and you may raise a Keep in the middle of it — a deliberate circle you build towards over several turns, in a place your opponent can watch you committing to.
Nothing limits how many fields or keeps you raise — but every field makes the next dearer, so a realm that wants more has to go out to the woods and the crags for it rather than ploughing on.
A keep is never bought, only earned. You commit 150 gold of farmland to a shape before you spend a coin on the keep itself — and every one of those farms is visible, undefended, and burnable while you do it.
That is where the tension lives. Your opponent can see the ring forming three turns out and ride to break it.
Every turn is a real decision
Melee walk two hexes. Archers walk one and buy that with reach. Step beside an enemy and your move ends there. Nothing crosses the board on tempo alone, so where a piece stands still matters three turns later — that is the whole design.
No fog, no dice, no hidden information. You lose because you were out-thought, and you can see exactly where.
The loop
Read the ground
Woods on your side? Crags? A river? That is not scenery — it is the list of pieces you will be allowed to build.
Raise the works
Build it on your half, beside the resource. It pays every turn after, and it opens a hero you could not field before.
March
Every soldier is a field you chose not to lay. Take their works, burn their fields, and put the castle down.
One way to win
- Raze their castle
- Land does not win. It pays for the army that does. Ordinary soldiers barely scratch masonry — a Rogue needs seventy blows, a Giant about ten — and a Giant needs two keeps, which need fields, which need ground you went and held.
- Lead when time runs out
- The tiebreak, weighed on the castle first and then the army keeping it standing. Never on tile count, so hunkering down wins nothing.
Seven pieces, and two you have to earn
A skeletal Warden paces open country and strikes anything beside it, either army. Put it down and your house may raise Mages. A druid's Grove stands in the woods for whoever walks onto it first.
The two are not the same bet. The Grove rises again elsewhere once claimed, so the slower house still gets its Druid; being first there buys tempo. The Warden does not come back. Whoever puts it down is the only house that will field a Mage all match, and the loser of that race simply never gets one — the one thing on the board you can lose outright.
Play it however you like
It runs in a browser on a phone or a desktop, with no install and no account. Matches carry as a link — copy it, send it, and your opponent opens the position exactly as you left it. Correspondence play needs nothing but a chat window.
Or press Watch two AIs and let the thing play itself while you work out what it is doing.