Pieces
When you clear a night mid-campaign, the dealer hands you back a Piece. A memory, a year, a name — small things he has been keeping for you. The campaign isn’t a slow erosion; it’s a slow recovery. You walk into the next morning a little more whole.
A failed night (last call) costs no Piece. It just doesn’t yield one. The opportunity is what’s at risk, never something already yours.
The eight Pieces
Section titled “The eight Pieces”| Piece | id | Phrasing |
|---|---|---|
| A year you were owed | year | ”a year you were owed.” |
| A memory of your family | memory | ”a memory of your family.” |
| A name | name | ”a name. it had been on the tip of your tongue.” |
| A face | face | ”a face you used to know.” |
| A season | season | ”a season. you can feel it again.” |
| A song | song | ”a song you used to hum.” |
| A habit | habit | ”a habit. your hand goes there again.” |
| A room | room | ”a room you grew up in. it is back.” |
Five-line narrative arcs
Section titled “Five-line narrative arcs”Each Piece carries a 5-line arc — the player’s evolving relationship with the recovered memory across the campaign. Indices:
- 0 First return — the recovery-screen line (“He hands you back ____.”)
- 1 Settling — the morning after, the memory is still surprising.
- 2 Beginning to have it again — a few days later, the shape is familiar but new.
- 3 Quiet ownership — the dealer notices you have it now. He does not say so directly.
- 4 Final word — late-week, the memory is yours in the way memories ought to be.
For example, “a song you used to hum”:
arc[0] "a song you used to hum."arc[1] "You started to hum it just now. The melody came easily."arc[2] "The song surfaces when you are not paying attention. As songs do."arc[3] "He sometimes hums one bar of it himself, and stops, and lets you have it."arc[4] "The song is yours. He has not sung it since."The Recovery Screen
Section titled “The Recovery Screen”When a cleared night happens mid-campaign, the player sees:
DAWN
"I have been keeping this for you. It is, perhaps, time."
HE HANDS BACKa face you used to know.
YOU HAVE RECOVEREDa song you used to hum.a name. it had been on the tip of your tongue.The “you have recovered…” remembrance panel surfaces every prior
recovery in the campaign (using each Piece’s arc[0] phrasing). Three
cleared nights in one campaign means the recovery screen accumulates
into a small ledger of what’s been returned to you.
A last call lands on a different screen — the Quiet Morning — which sheds 1-2 charms (arcana) but leaves the Piece shelf untouched.
Selection
Section titled “Selection”Piece selection is deterministic per run seed. The same seed always recovers the same Piece, so share codes are honest. Within a campaign, the controller picks from the Pieces the player hasn’t already recovered — exhausted Pieces fall back to “an unnamed thing” phrasing for the rest of the campaign.
Where this lives
Section titled “Where this lives”lib/sim/pieces.dart—Pieceenum,arcextension,arcLine(i).lib/ui/diminishment_screen.dart— both the Recovery and Quiet Morning screens.test/sim/pieces_arc_test.dart— 9 tests (5 lines per Piece minimum, unique phrasings, etc.).test/integration/pieces_remembrance_flow_test.dart— three consecutive cleared nights accumulate correctly.
Cross-campaign permanence
Section titled “Cross-campaign permanence”Recovered Pieces persist in MetaProgression.piecesRecovered across
campaigns. A player who has recovered the song in their first
campaign cannot recover the same song twice. The Piece pool can be
exhausted (8 Pieces total); beyond that, “unnamed pieces” phrasing
applies for now (a future content batch will name more).
Why recovery, not loss
Section titled “Why recovery, not loss”The dealer is fundamentally fond of the player — see Dealer voice. A campaign built around taking pieces makes him a thief. A campaign built around handing them back makes him a custodian — someone who has been keeping the small things safe while you found your way back to them. The horror is the same: he will eventually run out of things to give back. But the relationship runs on warmth, not loss.
“I have been keeping things for you. Songs, faces, the way a season used to feel. Nothing important to me; everything important to you. Take what’s yours.” — Pale Jack, Book of Hours, “On Pieces”