Every world is the same game with a different face.
Its own ground and water, its own buildings, plants and landmarks, and its own people. Meadowmere is open from the start; the others unlock as you play — and you can always see what it takes to reach them.
Meadowmere
Rolling hills under a wide sky. Timbered farmsteads with red and yellow roofs, orchards turning gold at the edges, cobbled lanes winding between fields of wheat and pumpkin. The home country — and the gentlest place to learn the game.
Cherrymere
Pale meadows under blossom. The forests are cherry groves in full bloom, bamboo stands fill the gaps, and the pilgrim's road leads to a temple or a pagoda rather than a church. The brightest of the five worlds.
Fjordmere
Snow lies over everything: on roofs, on the tops of pines, along the shoulders of every road. Water runs ice-blue between white banks, and the villages are Viking halls with steep, snow-laden roofs. Cold light, high contrast, and a quiet the other worlds don't have.
Isle Sea
Here every tile is an island. Sand instead of meadow, palms instead of oaks, and a low-poly ocean all around with foam breaking against each shore. The most dramatic silhouette of the five: a board that reads as an archipelago rather than a map.
Shadowmere
Night under the earth. Dark moss, still swamp water, and forests of giant mushrooms — violet and amber caps as the only real colour for miles. Goblins live here, in stilted huts around braziers and cauldrons. The darkest world, built so the light comes from the things that grow.
