Your base

The Keep

The Keep is your main building. Upgrading it unlocks more buildings and longer offline earnings, and no other building can ever out-level it — the Keep is the ceiling the rest of your base climbs toward, up a ten-level ladder. Your doorstep is also where the satchel banks: cross it and everything you carried home is safe forever. When beasts chase you out of the mist, they stop at the fence line and camp — which is what the Watchtower’s posted Ranger is for.

Claiming land

Tap the mist at your fence and pay Mythwood to clear it — the fence moves out and the ground is yours to build on. Each ring deeper costs more wood, and the deepest frontiers ask for a proven Keeper: some ground cannot be claimed until you have hatched enough Mythlings to hold it, and the farthest rings hold no fence at all. Growing the base is the game’s long spine — every ring claimed is more room for plots, habitats, and streets.

Habitats and the Meadow Pen

Archetype habitats are five fenced display homes, one per archetype, unlocked from Keep 3. Free Mythlings move in on their own and stand on display; touring keepers leave a daily tip that scales with the residents’ rarity, and growing a habitat’s size adds both room and richer tips — Small holds two, Large four, Huge six. Tour other keepers’ hollows and those tips are yours to pocket. Newborns live separately in the Meadow Pen — free beside your Nursery, and your Keeper walks right through it, because nobody fences in toddlers.

Streets and visitors

Stone paths bring visitors. No streets, no guests at all; every eight tiles of street supports one more keeper strolling your grounds, up to what your habitat room can host. Visitors are not decoration — they are real keepers’ handles off the boards, they walk only your paths like proper tourists, and they are the crowd whose tips your habitats collect. Prestige pieces — the Statue, the Fountain, the Sovereign Monument — are pure coin flexes: they only look magnificent, and touring keepers notice.

Placing and moving

Buildings sit on a whole-cell grid, DragonVale-style: a building takes exactly the squares it needs, placement snaps to the lattice, and stone tiles butt flush against walls — so a planned base tiles as neatly as you have the patience to make it. Nothing is permanent: pick a building up and the ghost shows you exactly where it may land, and any paths beneath a new placement refund in full. Buildings are properly solid, too — your Keeper bumps into a Market instead of wading through it, and anyone standing behind a tall building fades it translucent so nobody is ever lost behind their own architecture.