Good Dirt

You are a botanist. You are not a pilot.
Your UFO is in a field on Earth, and it is not going anywhere without fuel. Fortunately,
this planet grows things — badly, slowly, in the wrong colors, but it grows things. Splice
what you find into something that grows fast enough to get you home.
Good Dirt is a hex-grid roguelike deckbuilder. Your deck is crops. Your board is a
field. Every run is a journey outward from the crash site, and how far you get is the score.
Plant a board, not a card
Each field is a handful of hex tiles and a harvest goal. Draw crops, spend water, and place
them — then watch how they read each other. Neighbors feed neighbors. Families stack. The
same three cards score completely differently depending on where they land.
There is no waiting for things to grow. You assemble the board, the board resolves, you take
what it made. The puzzle is the planning, not the patience.
Fuel is the whole story
Fuel does two jobs, and they fight each other:
[Every day you spend inside a field burns fuel. Take too long to hit the goal and the run ends right there.

Every step across the map burns fuel too. Distance is something you buy.

There's no shop to top up. You refuel by [b]overshooting[/b] — growing past the goal converts
the surplus into fuel. So the safe, exact-change harvest keeps you alive and gets you nowhere.
The greedy one is what moves you.
The dirt is permanent
Clear a plot and it hands you its soil. Soil doesn't get consumed — it gets banked,
and every plot you clear raises how much of it you can lay down. Placing it permanently
unlocks new tiles on your grid, for this field and every field after.
You start each run on six hexes. What the board looks like by the end is something you built.
Read the stones
Every tile you clear surveys a color. Survey enough and the map coughs up a Glyph Stone
— carved by aliens who came here before you, left behind for whoever showed up next with a
ship to decode them. Decoded glyphs are run-wide: they change how crops score, how soil
behaves, what a day costs.
The colors you chase determine which glyphs you're offered, so routing across the map is
deck-building by other means. Beat a world's boss and you're offered a cross-color legend
— the rare glyphs that belong to two colors at once, and the ones that decide what a run
actually becomes.
Choose the route, live with it
The map is one continuous hex world that grows outward as you explore it. You only ever move
outward — no backtracking, no second visit. Each step offers a small fan of choices: a safe
flatland, a hostile specialty field, a workshop to upgrade a crop, a lab to splice two into
something new.
Everything on that fan costs fuel to reach. That's the run: a series of small, honest
questions about what you can afford.
 
No villain. Nothing is hunting you. You are just very far from home, and home is expensive.
Lose and you're not punished — you're still stranded. Try a different route.