The two rings
Six quests. Either three of them wins the day.
Your board holds three main quests for work and three for life, worth the same XP. Clearing either ring wins the day on its own. Clearing both is a perfect day — but a perfect day was never the bar.
The cap moves in one direction only. Tell Prio you slept badly and the work ring eases to two; two of two still wins, and the day is written down as eased. The life ring never shrinks. Nothing ever widens a ring because you happen to be busy — that is a law, not a preference.
Some days genuinely hold more than three real things, and Prio does not pretend otherwise. Once a ring is full, a button appears beneath it: march on — tomorrow starts heavier. You can march up to four extra mains per track, at full XP. Only the ones you actually clear cost anything: six stamina off tomorrow's start, capped at eighteen however long you marched. Walking away from a march quest is free.
The ring is still the whole win. Marching never raises the bar, never inflates your won days, never touches the guild board. It lets you do the work and pays for it in the open, out of tomorrow, instead of pretending the work never happened.
- Work ring
- Life ring
Burnout defense
Rest counts as winning.
A rest day is declared in advance and scores as won. Not forgiven, not excused — won, in the record, beside every other victory. Momentum freezes rather than decays.
Every won day mints a shield, and you can hold three. A shield spends itself on the first day you miss, quietly, before anything decays. There is no streak to break, and there is no missed-day marker anywhere in the world you're walking through.
The shutdown horizon
If there is no three-day break booked inside the next ninety days, the loot board locks and your companion packs a small suitcase — until you book one.
Overheat
Sustained pressure eases tomorrow's cap on its own and puts a recovery quest on the board as a main. It is never a block; the board simply asks for less.
Amnesty
When the deck gets grim, one move clears the guilt-pile. No carried-count bump, no momentum hit, no penance. Nothing in Prio punishes absence.
The companion
A companion who is never mad at you.
Pip lives in the Den. There is no hunger meter, no decay, no guilt timer set running while you're away. Skip a week and Pip is simply glad you're back.
What Pip does have is a pantry, stocked by the main quests you actually clear and by strikes on your bosses. Feeding is what grows it: one day of care per calendar day, seven days to Grown, thirty to Elder. Growth cannot be bought at any price, and a stage once reached is never lost.
You can stroke Pip and nothing at all is recorded — that is on purpose. Tap the rug and it circles twice and sleeps; tap it again for a long stretch and then zoomies. Side quests fill the toy box. Hats come from boss victories, and are worn everywhere with enormous dignity.
Realms & stealth
Your day isn't one list. Some of it isn't anyone's business.
A life has more than one front. Work, health, home, the side project, the client who only exists on Thursdays — each becomes a realm with its own name and colour, and every quest belongs to one. Add, rename, recolour and reorder them whenever the shape of your year changes.
Any realm can be marked off-books. That work is entered by hand and never leaves for your assistant — no title, no count, no trace. Your guild is held at a distance too: a day won inside an off-books realm doesn't count toward the shared board, and no teammate ever learns what the work was. What they can still see is that the day went well. The contents are yours alone.
For the rest of it there's stealth: one tap turns the board into a screen you can share. The clock, your life ring, the realms you chose to keep visible, your meetings anonymised to BUSY, and the companion. No work ring, no XP, no meeting names. Reveal brings it all back when the call ends.
The guild
A guild, not a leaderboard.
Shared loot unlocks only when everyone in the guild has reached four won days that week. One person cannot carry the team, and nobody can be beaten by it.
Guilds are founded, or joined by invitation. There is no browsing, no codes, no way to even see a guild you don't belong to. Law 5 is enforced in the rules engine rather than by good manners: your quest contents are visible to no one else, ever.
At the campfire, a day you chose to share seats an avatar, and a teammate can salute it with a stamp. Those echoes are historical and stay off until you turn them on — there is no "who's online" anywhere in Prio. No leaderboards. No built-in chat, ever.
What teammates see
Whether your rings cleared, your won-day count, your name, your companion.
What they never see
A single word of your quest contents. Not the titles, not the notes, not the links.
Speaks MCP
Run your morning in conversation.
Prio exposes a remote MCP server, so triage can happen where you're already thinking: read the board, capture what arrived overnight, promote the right three onto each ring. Point any assistant that speaks MCP at it with a personal access token — no bespoke integration, no single vendor. We happen to use Claude; the protocol is open, so your tool is your business.
Seven tools, and they are deliberately modest: read today, list realms, capture, promote, complete, check in, and turn meeting notes into proposals. That last one creates nothing at all — it hands the proposals back and stops. Anything captured lands on deck, never straight onto a ring; promoting is a separate, deliberate move that stays yours to make.
Every write goes through the same rules engine the app uses, so no assistant can talk the game into breaking its own laws. And realms you mark off-books never cross that boundary: every read is filtered and every write to one is refused outright. The lane your colleagues can see is the lane your assistant cannot.
The constitution
The Eight Laws.
Settings tune numbers. These are not settings. They are invariants — they hold in every phase, for every writer, under every theme, and the app prints them in full as an engraved band at the foot of the System screen.
The Eight Laws Not settings — invariants
- Nobody but the player fills their mains.
- The cap flexes down with energy, never up with pressure — beyond it lies the Forced March: never required, never free; excess is paid from tomorrow's stamina, in the open.
- Every mechanic rewards closing and permits rest; nothing punishes absence.
- The pet is never mad.
- Personal quest contents are visible to no one else — teammate, raid lead, or employer.
- Corp work: manual entry only, off-books, invisible to the MCP.
- All writes — app, MCP, raid lead — pass through the one rules engine.
- Progress is computed, never claimed — boss HP from completed quests, checklist fractions from ticks; no self-reported percentages, ever.
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