Knight: Dark Fantasy Tales

THE KING IS DEAD. THE ROAD IS OPEN.

Mareveil has no heir. Two pretenders sharpen their claims while the roads fill with soldiers, pilgrims and worse. You are a knight without a house, a boy named Paille at your heel, and the Tournament of Mareveil at the end of the road.

Knight: Dark Fantasy Tales is a narrative roguelite RPG. A run lasts about fifteen minutes, the fights are turn-based, death is permanent, and what you carry forward is up to you.

A KINGDOM THAT IS BREAKING
Albric de Mareveil holds the capital in the name of the law. Arthyr Montecul raises banners in the east and calls the throne his own. You can serve either of them, or refuse them both and walk the road for no one. Two of the game's eight endings belong to those who choose neither side.

A ROAD THAT NEVER REPEATS
Every run draws a new map. Crossroads, shrines, quests, camps and ambushes stand between you and the Tournament of Mareveil. The game saves at every step, and a full run fits inside a coffee break.

CHOOSE, AND LIVE WITH IT
Spare or strike. Keep the oath or break it. There is no undo and the road does not go backwards. Honor rises and falls, allegiances shift, and Mareveil reads you by your deeds.

TURN-BASED COMBAT, PLAYED ON NERVE
Six actions and a stamina bar that empties fast. Strike when there is an opening, guard when there is none, and when your arms grow heavy, recover to buy one breath at a price. No reflexes required, only judgment.

A SQUIRE WHO WATCHES
Paille follows you out of the gates whether you want him or not. He is the witness of everything you do on the road, and his trust is a system with teeth: earn it and the campfire gives you more; lose it and travel colder.

YOUR KNIGHT REMEMBERS
Permadeath is not the end. It is ink. What you learn, earn and lose carries into the next run, and the legend grows toward one of eight endings.

HONEST BY DESIGN
One purchase unlocks the whole game, for life — and removes ads for good. No gacha. No timers. No subscriptions. Fully playable offline, in English and in French, each written in its own voice.

The fire crackles. The road waits.