Played from an illuminated war-table, and every screen below is the real game. Summon a company. Chart the ascent. Watch the fray.
One hundred floors across ten zones, and every floor is dealt fresh the moment you reach it. Scout ahead, read the hazards, and decide which company takes the stairs.
Summons arrive face-down. Flip them one at a time or all at once, and meet whoever answered the Gate.
You choose the team, the leader, and the formation. The fight runs itself, and the Chronicle writes down every swing. Managers plan. Heroes fight.
Every hero keeps their own stats, story, morale, and opinion of you. Bring them home and they remember it. Lose them and everyone else remembers too.
The base is the other half of the game. Craft, research, cook, and heal, and put the heroes who cannot fight to work on the ones who can.
Every pull is a person. Nineteen classes answer the Gate, from warriors and mages to blacksmiths, chefs, and merchants. Every hero arrives with their own face, stats, story, and breaking point.
Giltgrave is a strategy game in a gacha's clothes. The Tower cannot be paid off. It can only be understood.
A floor's hazards, elites, and boss phases are fixed the moment it is dealt. Scout it, lose to it, learn it. A climber who reads the floor beats one who out-levels it.
Every hero rolls hidden aptitudes, and a gifted low-star can out-grow a lazy six-star. The stars say where a hero started, not where they can end up. Write nobody off.
Summoning builds Sparks. Spend them and the next 5-star is guaranteed to be a class you picked. Bad luck runs out; planning does not.
Deeper floors require several full teams, and tired heroes sit out. The winning roster is built wide, with replacements trained before they are needed.
Your heroes talk: about the climb, about each other, and about you. A company held together by fear falls apart on the stairs. Overheard between climbs:
“Every blade I forge outlives somebody. The Forge keeps count. So do I.”
“She was a one-star nobody bothered to name. She held the door so the rest of us could run.”
“Climb with us, not above us, and I will carry your banner to the hundredth floor.”
The fallen leave Deeds, Legacies, and grieving squadmates behind.
Hazards, elite affixes, boss phases, and formations punished for arrogance.
Egos, bonds, morale. A hero who resents your lineup will act on it.
The quiet machinery between climbs, and it is never finished.
Turn on portrait generation in Settings and the game installs a local image pipeline. Nothing leaves your machine, and every hero you summon is painted for that hero alone.
Add an API key in Settings and names, backstories, and banter are written for your specific hero: their class, their scars, their opinion of you.
Both builds are the complete game, free to play. The difference is who paints your heroes.
The full game with the hand-curated art pool: every system, every zone, every death. Smaller download, runs anywhere.
Download StandardShips ready for local portrait generation: every hero you summon is painted on your own GPU, for you alone. You can also enable this later from any Standard install.
Download with GenerationNot code-signed yet, so Windows will show a “protected your PC” warning on first launch. Choose More info → Run anyway.
