Silver Creek Town

Silver Creek gets on with its day whether you're there or not.
Lillian at the inn, Helena at the flower shop, Susan at the café, Howard at the town hall, Jack at the forge, Margaret by the creek, Evelyn the singer, and Mina who runs the gatherings — eight residents, each with a day of their own: opening up, dropping by, sitting on a bench for a while. When two of them meet on the street they stop and talk, and you can stand there and listen. A dozen more townsfolk go about their days around them.
In this town, words travel.
Something you mention at the inn in the morning finds its way back to you from the flower shop by evening — not quite the way you said it. Someone starts looking at you differently; someone else crosses the street to avoid you. Nothing said in Silver Creek is ever simply forgotten.
Talk to anyone — out loud, or by typing.
No dialogue wheels. Hold a key and speak, or type, and they answer in their own voice. By default, AI dialogue is processed locally on your PC; you can also connect your own OpenAI-compatible API if you prefer. Any question you ask might change a relationship.
Music at dusk.
When the street lamps and window lights come on, Evelyn and Helena sing their own songs on the open-air stage and the town drifts in to listen. Later, Mina's gathering fills the dance hall. Eighteen songs, each one somebody's story — some things are only ever said in a song.
A valley beyond the town, a clock tower at its heart.
Follow the creek upstream into the valley: the water mill, the shallows, the wooden bridge, the places the last street lamp doesn't reach. The clock tower in the middle of town can be climbed floor by floor to a view over all of Silver Creek. The bell hasn't rung in a long time — and the townspeople would rather not talk about it.
The town remembers more than it admits.
Someone keeps people away from the tower. Someone has gone up there alone at night. Margaret, by the creek, says she remembers things she shouldn't. The more you ask, the clearer it gets: what they're keeping quiet has something to do with you. One day you'll stand at the top of the tower and face the choice: ring it, or don't.
The rhythm of a day.
Empty streets at dawn, gold light at four, the blue hour when the lamps come on one by one, and the last lit window going dark. No quest log, no timers — just a town that keeps living, and people who will remember you.
Features
Eight residents with their own daily schedules, plus a dozen townsfolk living around them
Talk to anyone by voice or text; they answer in their own voices (English and Chinese)
AI dialogue is processed locally on your PC by default; optional support for your own OpenAI-compatible API
Residents remember you and each other; what one hears, another may repeat — not always accurately
Relationships that shift: trust, favours, grudges — between them, and with you
Four live performances a day on the open-air stage and in the dance hall; 18 original character songs
The valley and creek beyond the town, and a clock tower you can climb
A first mystery chapter: the bell nobody talks about
A full day–night cycle with hand-set lighting for every hour