Exp-lore is in active development — feedback welcome
A significance engine for gamers

Your campaign, canonized.

Captured · Day twoThe record does not show how they fell.

Exp-lore is built to watch your raw gameplay and write the lore — grounded in what actually happened. Your 2AM raid becomes a permanent chapter.

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Day twoProject Zomboideast of Ekron
The Correspondent · captured output

Sebastian Warfield, engineer, spent the morning of July 9 working the residential grid east of Ekron. He moved through bedrooms and bathrooms in sequence, cataloguing what remained: towels, foundation makeup, dental floss. The ordinary debris of homes now empty. In one bedroom a corpse in blue lay near the bed, blood on the wall by the window. In another, two bodies on blue carpet. The record does not show how they fell. By late afternoon he was seated indoors, inventory open, the yellow hi-vis vest still on. Outside, daylight held.

real session · captured outputverbatim excerpt
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247

What do you have to show for it?

You've been gaming for years. Thousands of hours. Moments that made your heart pound — the first horde you survived, the colony that burned, the betrayal you didn't see coming.

Steam says “247 hours played.” That's it. A number. The richest personal entertainment experiences of your life, reduced to a counter.

You tried journaling once. Wrote three paragraphs after a great session. It felt awkward. You never opened it again.

Your gaming life is invisible. Even to you.

"247 hours played" — the only record most gamers will ever have
The Witnessing System

It doesn't just record. It knows you.

Exp-lore is four systems working together — each one makes the previous feel inevitable in retrospect.

The Narration Engine

Captures your screen. Sends it to Claude Vision. Writes prose in a narrator voice you chose — chronicler, war correspondent, hardboiled cynic. Grounded in what actually happened. You just play.

The Fact Database

Tracks behavioral patterns across sessions. Combat tendencies. Survival streaks. Death causes. Playstyle. The twentieth session's narrative is richer than the first because the system knows you after nineteen.

Salience Selection

Finding a shotgun is Tuesday for a combat player. For someone who has avoided conflict for eight sessions, it's a turning point. Significance is measured relative to your history. The system notices what you don't.

The Retrospective

Across characters and games, patterns emerge you never noticed. You always build near water. You name every companion. You hoard supplies for an emergency that never comes. The chronicle becomes a mirror.

What you'll read

This wrote itself while you played.

You didn't type a word. You didn't press a button. You just played for forty minutes, and this was waiting.

Session 14 Project Zomboid March 18, 2026
The Chronicler speaks:

The carpenter's daughter returned to the gas station on Riverside's edge — the same one she'd raided in her second week, back when a can of beans felt like salvation. Now she moved through it differently. Efficiently. The shelves held nothing she needed; her inventory was deep.

Three sessions without a scratch. The chronicle allows itself a rare note of optimism. She's learned the rhythms of this place — when the fog rolls, where the dead gather, which roads are clear after rain.

But the generator changes things. Found in a shed behind the farmhouse, half-buried under tarps. Working. In fourteen sessions, she has never had power. Something shifted tonight. The careful, methodical survivor is building something she hasn't built before: a home.

The highlighted phrases are moments where the system drew on behavioral memory — your history, not just this session.
The Player's Journey

Five acts of being witnessed.

Every player who stays travels through these emotional beats. Each transition feels inevitable.

I

Discovery

"Someone was watching."

You install Exp-lore. Play for forty minutes. Glance over. There's a journal entry describing your session — the fog, the gas station, the scratch from two captures ago. You didn't write any of this. Someone found it worth telling.

II

Accumulation

"It knows me."

Three weeks in. Twelve sessions. The narrative references events from session four when something in session eleven echoes them. You notice it writes differently for you than it would for your friend. "How does it know I always hoard food?"

III

Sharing

"Someone else gets it."

You paste a Discord webhook. Your latest entry posts to your server. A friend reads it and messages: "Wait, you lost the generator? After all that?" They weren't there. But they get it.

IV

Identity

"This is how I play now."

Months in. Multiple characters. Multiple games. Each with a chronicle and an arc. Playing without Exp-lore feels like it doesn't count.

V

Reflection

"So that's who I am."

You open the retrospective. Across all your chronicles, patterns emerge you never noticed. You're a hoarder who never uses their best supplies. You name every companion and mourn every loss. The system noticed. It's been weaving it into the narrative for months. Now, laid bare — a portrait of yourself as a player. Not stats. Not a leaderboard. A mirror.

Under the Hood

Install. Launch. Play. Read.

Step 01
Detect

Exp-lore detects your game automatically. No setup rituals.

Step 02
Capture

Screenshots at smart intervals. Skips duplicates and menus.

Step 03
Analyze

Claude Vision reads each capture. Understands events, inventory, danger.

Step 04
Witness

Narrator-voiced prose, grounded in truth, shaped by your history.

Three Promises

Every feature delivers all three.

Effortless

You just play.

No journals to write. No buttons to press mid-game. No setup rituals. The best session with Exp-lore feels exactly like a session without it — until you read what it wrote.

Design test: Would a player who forgot Exp-lore was running still get the full experience?

Grounded

Documentary with style.

Every word is rooted in what actually happened. Screenshots are the evidence. The AI is the witness, not the author. When it says "medical supplies are low," it saw a nearly empty inventory.

Design test: Could a player point to the screenshot that inspired each sentence?

Accumulating

The twentieth session knows the first nineteen.

Continuity across sessions. Characters develop. Themes emerge. But it's not just narrative memory — it's behavioral memory. Over time, the system notices patterns you don't notice about yourself. The difference between a routine run and the night you broke every pattern you'd established.

Design test: Does the system notice something about the player that the player didn't notice about themselves?
Deliberate Choices

What we refuse to be.

The sharpness of what we refuse is what gives shape to what we are.

Not this

A coaching tool

We create meaning, not performance. Your K/D ratio is someone else's problem.

Not this

A clip tool

We capture arcs, not moments. A 10-second clip can't hold what a chronicle holds.

Not this

AI fiction

We narrate what happened. Remove grounded truth and we're just another AI writing app.

Not this

A chatbot

We don't converse on demand. Think Disco Elysium's internal voices, not Alexa.

Not this

A social platform

Sharing is a feature, not the product. The chronicle has value even if nobody else reads it.

Not this

A game wiki

We don't explain the game. We narrate your experience of it. The wiki tells you what a Spiffo is. We tell you about the night you found one.

Coming Soon

Be the first to witness.

Exp-lore is in active development. Drop your email and we'll let you know when the desktop app is ready to download.

Free & local-first. Your stories live on your machine.
Cloud features (managed AI, hosted entries) will be optional add-ons.

Your gaming life
deserves a witness.

Local-first. Your stories live on your machine. No cloud account required. No subscription to read your own history.

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