Saltlight Cove

“Money makes the cove prettier, never stronger.”
— the Keeper's Charter. Published here so you can hold us to it, forever.

The Tollworth Company bought the cove years ago. They put a coin slot on the town fountain, turnstiles on the pier, and padlocks on every garden gate — then went bankrupt and left.

The town trust bought the deed back for one coin, and you're the new Keeper. Cut the padlocks. Scrap the turnstiles into useful iron. Grow, bake, weave and write to the scattered villagers until every window on Cottage Row is lit again.

The first thing you'll do is knock the coin slot off the fountain. It feels as good as it sounds.

Beds side by side with crops ripening and villagers working them — Beds sit flush and become one field — and someone works it

The twelve villagers and how close each is to coming home — Twelve villagers. Fill their letters and a window lights for good

Salvage contracts at the Reclamation Dock — Break the Company's hardware down into something useful

The cove at dusk, lamps lit — The light moves through the day; the lamps come on at dusk

The Keeper's Ledger with today's goals — Three small things to do today, and a stamp card of the rest

The shoreline with tide pens and sea rocks — Kelp and mussels grow in pens out in the shallows

A growing crop's card, offering to finish it now for six coins or to pay part of that — Impatient? Pay what you like. Rushing is always the worse deal, and the maths is public

The Pearl shop, with real-money prices beside every bundle — Pearls are the only thing money buys. Every rate is printed, including what they're worth in coins

The Cove Post, with letters from villagers and what each one asks for — Every letter shows what it wants and what it pays, before you take it

The cove after dark, lit by lamps — Play at two in the morning and it looks like two in the morning

Timers, never walls

Nothing limits how much you play. Salt dries, dough proves, oysters take their sweet time — and patience is always visibly paid.

Layout that matters

Every workshop is fond of two neighbours. Park the windmill by the garden beds and it runs faster, with a little heart to show it. Bonuses only, never penalties.

Bring them home

Fill a villager's letters and they return on the ferry, lighting their cottage window for good. The town itself is your progress bar.

Printed first

Every letter shows its reward before you accept. Every salvage contract shows its yield. No mystery boxes, paid or free.

Sounds like somewhere

Gulls and surf that get louder as you scroll toward the water, a quiet music bed that slows and warms when the lamps are lit, and a switch for each if you'd rather have neither.

The fair-play rules, in writing

Free forever. Paying speeds things up; it never unlocks content or power.
No paid loot boxes or randomised rewards of any kind.
Real-money prices shown next to every in-game price.
Miss a day? The tide covers you. Streaks pause — they never reset.
Fixed shop catalogue. Prices don't blink here — we're not the Company.
The timer-skip formula is printed in the game for anyone to check.

Built for two

Saltlight Cove is being built so you can pair with your favourite person — restore twin coves, lend a hand from a shared pantry, bring villagers home together, and argue gently about where the bakery goes. Coming after the first beta.

Have a look around

Every building and every crop was made for this game. And we write down what breaks.

See the art Read the devlog