Mare Non Nostrum tells four and a half centuries of an alternate Mediterranean. A world that size doesn’t stop at the last page — it keeps producing things: stories, games, artefacts that stand beside the book rather than inside it. They gather here.
The rich flee a burning city; the left-behind rebuild it. When every record has burned, who does the rebuilt city belong to — and was the fleeing abandonment, or loss with intent to return? One warehouse. One family. One keeper who stayed.
Stands on its own and keeps the book’s secrets — a fine place to begin if you’re new.
You are the Carthaginian Council of Elders. One turn per year, from 125 BC to 105 BC. Each year a dispatch or petition arrives — a tariff dispute, a colonial complaint, a temple that has claimed ownership of the harbour gulls — and you choose one of four responses. The fourth is always a committee. After twenty years the record is bound into a book and judged by a historian who can see your policies but not your dice.
A single-player game, played in Claude Code or Codex — you download it and run it at your own desk.
More artefacts from the world are on their way.