In strategy card game Roots Devour you are that tree the villagers warn people away from

Upon my recent relocation to a suburban neighborhood, I discovered an abundance of “wild” parkland and patches of woodland. In the evenings, after a day spent crafting listicles about Call Of Duty, I find solace in taking walks through the woods. Forests hold a special fascination for me, as evidenced by my musings on Alan Wake 2, but they also serve as spaces for contemplation and rejuvenation. The towering sycamores and silverbirch trees create a mesmerizing spectacle that allows me to escape the day’s stresses. However, my tranquility is often disrupted by thoughts of the unseen roots that permeate the ground beneath me.

These roots, invisible yet omnipresent, remind me of their presence through the subtle shifts in the soil’s acoustics. I am unable to pinpoint their exact locations, leading to a sense of unease as I navigate the forest paths. My limited knowledge of tree physiology suggests that roots absorb water and nutrients from the soil, a seemingly harmless act. However, I can’t help but ponder the possibility of roots absorbing more than just water – perhaps they absorb emotions, fears, and the essence of the human spirit.

These unsettling thoughts were triggered by my encounter with Roots Devour, a strategy management and card game where players assume the role of a malevolent eldritch tree vying for supremacy as the top Elder God in a forest teeming with nightmarish creatures. The objective is to achieve this within 30 in-game days by expanding roots and “organs,” harvesting the blood of other organisms, and confronting various threats. Players can also earn the loyalty of human tribes or manipulate their destinies from the shadows.

The game unfolds as players spread cards across a tabletop, a concept that intrigues me as it transforms card games into secretive forests (hopefully not of the carnivorous variety). For more information and a trailer, visit Steam – full English localization is reportedly in progress. If you’re intrigued by the notion of embodying a voracious entity of tendrils, consider exploring Carrion for a real-time experience.