Phantom Badlands

They call them phantoms: dead things the ground refuses to keep down.
Putting them back down is a living, right up until it isn’t.

A free text RPG. They come up drawn to the living and work their way toward the nearest town, so somebody puts them back down. Do that work long enough and they make you one of their own — which is what everyone here means when they call you a phantom too.

Not that anyone walks into one for the town’s sake. They go for what is in there with them: gear, cards found nowhere else, and — in the dark, where something died — eggs. Monster eggs. Whatever hatches is yours, it fights beside you, and it will outlive you.

Free. Nothing to buy. Windows & Linux.

“Another one. Come in — the last one won’t be needing the chair.”

Why they call it the Phantom Badlands

Nobody out here says “dungeon.” They say a phantom came up — the way you’d say a storm came in.

The ground doesn’t keep what it takes. Every so often it hands the dead back, and they come up together in the shape of the place they died in: a den, a crypt, a drowned cathedral, whole enough to walk into. Then it starts bleeding — phantoms drawn to the living, working outward until they reach a town. Fifty-eight trading posts hold thin circles of safe ground. Between them, nothing is held at all. That is the Badlands.

Clear one out and you buy those people a season. Another comes up somewhere else. It always does, and that is the whole of the work — officially. What actually fills the posts with delvers is the other thing a phantom holds: down where the dead are thickest, something is still laying. Eggs come up out of those places and nowhere else, and what hatches from one bonds to whoever carried it out.

The word does double duty, which is the part nobody mentions to new arrivals. What is in there wants to make you one of its own, and given enough trips it will. Death is permanent here, and it isn’t a twist — it’s the going rate. What survives you is whatever you carried back up alive, waiting at your Sanctuary for whoever you turn out to be next.

What it looks like

All of it is text. That is the point — and it reads better than it sounds.

A combat round: a Wight drawn in ASCII takes damage while the player's wizard sprite and Wolf Pup companion fight back, with a hand of three cards below.
Combat. The monster is drawn in ASCII, your character and their gear as a sprite, and your companion fights beside you. Each round deals a fresh hand — here Field, Meteor and Blast — and how much resource you commit changes how hard they land.
Eight companions rendered as detailed ASCII art in different colour variants: wolf, wyvern, gryphon, phoenix, kelpie, harpy, minotaur and chimaera.
Companions. Every monster type can be hatched from an egg, and each is drawn in full. On top of the type there are rarities from Common to Legendary and colour variants — Spectral, Shadow, Azure, Ocean — so two players’ wolves rarely look the same. They outlive their delvers: when you die, yours is waiting at the Sanctuary for whoever you are next.
The combat deck screen showing ten ability cards with mana costs, mastery ranks and copy counts, and the current five-card deck strip above.
Your deck. Combat draws from a deck you build. Thin the cards you never play so the ones you want come up more often, keep multiple copies to hold a card in hand longer, and rank each one up as you use it. Extra cards come from dungeon rewards and companions.
The inventory screen with a fully equipped character: staff, robes, hood, orb, amulet, ring and slippers, each with rarity colouring and rolled stats.
Equipment. Nine slots, rarity tiers, rolled stats, set bonuses and uniques — plus affixes that grant +X to your ability ranks, so gear changes what your cards do and not just your numbers. What you wear shows on your battler sprite in combat.

Bring something back out alive

53 dungeons, one for every monster type, each with a boss, a Hard mode and a hazard of its own. They are the only place companion eggs come from — and a companion is the one thing that survives you. Fuse them, breed them, ascend a tier; they carry on with your next character.

Dungeon screenshots are being held back — the dungeon view is mid-rework, and anything shot today would be out of date on arrival.

Permadeath that means something

One life per character, no undo. Your Sanctuary keeps the companions and stored items, so dying costs you a person — not everything.

Cards, not a menu

Combat deals you a fresh hand each round from a deck you build. Thin what you never play, keep copies of what you do, and rank cards up as you use them.

Gear that changes your cards

Nine slots, rarity tiers, rolled stats, uniques and set bonuses — plus affixes granting +X to ability ranks, so loot alters what your abilities do. It shows on your sprite, too.

Fight as a party of five

One shared enemy, simultaneous turns, buffs and items you can aim at allies. Leadership rotates after each fight so nobody is the pack mule.

53 dungeons

One per monster type, each with a boss, a Hard mode, its own hazard, and exclusive cards. Clearing one pushes the threat off a real town.

Companions that outlive you

Hatch them from dungeon eggs, fuse them, ascend a tier, breed a line. They pass to your next character through the Sanctuary.

9 classes, 3 paths

Warrior, Mage and Trickster, three classes each, with talent trees, unique gear, set bonuses and ability rank-ups to grow into.

A real economy

Player market with supply-and-demand pricing, roaming merchants that move stock between posts, direct trade, and five crafting skills.

Built to play with people

Clans with a shared vault, friends that survive permadeath, whisper and party channels, and a mentor bonus for taking new players out.

Most delvers don’t last two seasons

It’s free, there’s nothing to buy, and the launcher keeps you current.