Game showcase
Walk slowly. Notice something. Piece together a place.
Walk an imagined lake shore with Elin and Mille, a small stone milestone who wakes up when you ask good questions. Visit eight places, solve 24 calm illustrated puzzles across three eras and fill a lake book with what you noticed. The game is in development.
Concept art explores the intended look; it is separate from captured gameplay.
Screenshots are captured from the current version of the game.
Elin and the small living milestone Mille collect eight ways of seeing one place. The lake fits on the table again; the final notebook page waits for the next visitor.
Signe: Take this little lake with you. Bring back something a quick walk would miss. Turn the Era Lens, and the map shows how the shore might have looked long ago. Elin: It is mostly blank. We began with a blank lake and three edges that did not seem to agree. Turning a piece changed its neighbours too. Mille says that is how a good question works. I drew the table, the shore and a little place where the next drawing can go.
Mille: A relative! Taller, quieter, very good at standing still. Elin: What do the marks say? Mille: Let us look before I invent a cousin. A road marker made us stop. Some lines were clear and some were not. We could arrange a model without pretending to read every old mark. My page has two pictures: what I saw, and what I imagined. I have kept a small space between them.
Elin: I can hear the workbench in my head. Mille: My memory adds drums to everything. Elin: Then we will start with the hands. This page is about hands: carrying, making, repairing and pointing something out to a visitor. The farmhand in our little puzzle is a made-up person. The work asks a real question, though: whose effort do we forget when we only remember a place name?
Bea: A page may hold a story, a picture or a fact. It helps to say which. Mille: Can it hold a very small stone? Bea: If the binding is strong. From the viewpoint we saw a familiar shape in a new way. Bea helped us keep the labels honest. One drawing is an observation. One scene is a story we invented. A source note needs someone to check it. A book can be warm and careful at the same time.
Sam: People remember the water. I remember the loose board everybody stepped around. Elin: Did you fix it? Sam: Eventually. Good stories need small repairs. The jetty page has a repair, a boat and a summer picture. None is the whole story. Sam says a place stays welcoming because somebody notices a little job. I drew a plain board beside the view, so the small work would not disappear behind the pretty water.
Jo: This model is ours to try. The real channel is not a puzzle toy. Mille: A very important difference. Elin: We will keep our experiments on the table. Our boat was small enough to pick up with one hand. Its route made us think about the people and things that move between places. I marked the model clearly in the book. We learned from playing with it; we did not learn how to operate a real channel.
Mille: We have only one piece left after this. We should hurry slowly. Elin: I think that means stop. Mille: You are becoming fluent in milestone. We stopped for the small things: a blade, a leaf, a line in a sketch. Noticing a difference is not the same as knowing its cause. Mille was quiet for a while. When he spoke, he said, What else might we look at? I liked that question.
Signe: Welcome back. Did the lake get bigger? Elin: Only in my book. Mille: And in my questions. The lake fits on the table again, but it does not feel small. Our book holds observations, imagined scenes and questions to check. The last page is blank. If someone comes after us, I hope they will add something we walked past.
Hand-painted gouache lake, Falu red, cream paper, moss green and calm blue; this game keeps its own storybook identity.