AI herbalist game.

What you do

Mornings are for walking the cliffs and gathering. Afternoons for drying herbs and brewing simples. Evenings are quiet. Customers come to the cottage for what they need: a tea for old aches, a tincture for the new mother three doors down, a salve for a fisherman's rope-burned hands.

The seasons turn underneath you. Spring brings the sage up. Summer splits the tomatoes in the heat. Autumn drops the apples. Winter quiets the bees. The almanac in your ledger keeps track even when you don't.

One small ambition

Restore the abandoned greenhouse on the south slope. It's been collapsed since before Linnea's time. The frame is salvageable. The glass needs replacing. You can spend a year quietly buying panes and refitting beams. By autumn next, it could be growing through winter. By the year after, you could be the herbalist supplying three villages instead of one.

Or you could just sit on the cliffs in the spring. The game doesn't insist.

The texture of this archetype

• Coastal landscape: cliffs, kelp, lighthouse, fishing boats, salt wind.
• Real seasons. The world tracks them. Your inventory does too.
• Quiet customers, returning across years. The widow at the croft. The young father with three children. The fisherman with the rope-burned hands.
• A specific physical project (the greenhouse) you can pursue at any pace, including not at all.
• Solitude that isn't loneliness. The lighthouse keeper waves on Sundays.

For readers especially

This sits closest to Becky Chambers' Wayfarersseries in tone. Slow, observant, full of small kindnesses. If you wished there was an interactive version of Record of a Spaceborn Few set in a fishing village instead, this is the closest thing.