The world froze. One fire is left, and too many hands are at the door.
A pass-and-play council for 4–10 players on one shared device. Reveal who you are, argue your worth, and vote on who is cast into the cold.
One device, passed around the table. Reveal, deliberate, vote.
Every survivor holds a whole hidden dossier: a calling, a body, a condition, a knack, a hobby, a temper, a burden, a dread, and a whisper the others have heard. Each round you flip one for the table to see — then the group decides who stays warm.
On your turn, flip one hidden facet of yourself for everyone to weigh.
Argue out loud while the clock runs. Make your case for a seat by the fire.
Pass the device around. Each survivor secretly names one person to cast out.
When only the seats remain, those left keep the fire. The rest go into the White.
A squall can fall over any round and rewrite its rules — so the same table never plays the same game twice.
Lights bloom overhead — everyone reveals two facets instead of one.
The wind steals every voice. Vote at once, with no talk.
The cold bites deep. Two are cast into the White this round.
A brief warmth. No one is cast out — a round to breathe and think.
Calamities unlock as your table plays, each with its own mood and its own rumours mixed into the deck.
A Chronicle keeps every game and every player's standing; a wall of Sleetmarks tracks what your table has done. Everything is offline and on-device — no accounts, no ads, no fuss.