Memento Pulveris

Every Thursday, at five, the table is set

Arturo is a paleontologist.  Old enough to know that everything ends up under dust — bones, cities, names.

Across the table sits the Narrator: patient, courteous, and very interested in what arturo still remembers. The goal is a story: a case in nine places.

The cards are dinosaurs. The deck was built, years ago, for a Boy.

A card duel where forgetting is the cost of remembering

Play creatures across four lanes and tip the scale: seven points of unanswered damage win the thursday —  seven against you, and it belongs to the Narrator. Every powerful memory demands a sacrifice; every creature you lose leaves a bone on the table. And the fog is always there, blurring the cards in your hands: play them before oblivion files them away.

An opponent who plays like a person

The Narrator reads your side of the table, presses where you’re exposed — and yes, he bluffs. Face-down cards are not only your weapon.

Some features:

A story in 21 thursdays — nine places, road skirmishes between them, and three opponents who give the case its name: the Witness, the Archivist, the Oblivion.

A deck that chases something — afetr each victory, choose a new memory. Four families (sky, trench, pack, bones) with real synergies: build a direction and the deck starts seeking it on its own.

Bluff on both sides of the table — walls, ambushes, hidden queues, one Clue per hand to spend well.

The paleontologist’s card file — every one of the 57 cards has a real field record: etymology, dig site, honest science, and Arturo’s personal note. 

The Infinite Thursday — an endless ladder for when the case is closed and you still can’t leave the table.

Made to be read — > pay ATTENTION to the dialogues and make them yours.

Solve the case. Keep the name. Some things deserve to outlast the dust.