Quest is built around the thing you actually get up for: the set you're closing, the player's whole run, the rookie year you've been chipping at since 2016. You declare it. Quest holds its shape, shows you what's left — and helps you find it.
Declare what you're building. Quest builds the checklist.
Photograph your cards. It knows what they are — and what's still missing.
Send a show. Full screen, one card at a time, no account needed.
Every show ends on what you're hunting. Someone who has it can say so.
A set. A player's entire run. Every rookie card from one draft class. Every parallel of one card, in every colour. Or something only you would think of — Quest doesn't care how strange the rule is, as long as it's yours.
Declare it and Quest builds the checklist: every card that counts, and a live answer to the only question that matters — what's left.
Hold your phone over a slab and Quest reads the set, the year, the player, the grade and the cert number off the label. Lay a dozen cards out on the table and it reads all of them at once.
No barcodes, no dropdowns, no evening lost to data entry. The shoebox in the closet becomes a catalogue in an afternoon.
And every card it recognises lands against your quests — so the gap list corrects itself while you shoot.
Choose the cards, choose the order, send a link. They open it and they're inside it — full screen, black, one card at a time, nothing to click and nothing to sign up for.
It's how you show your father's cards to your brother. It's how you show a run to someone who understands what it took.
The last screen of every show is your gap list. Anyone watching — a friend, a stranger, the guy three tables down who opened your link — can tap a card and say I have this one, leave their name, and tell you how to reach them.
No account, no bidding, no marketplace in between. Just the person who has your card, telling you they have it.
Trading and selling — inside the network and out — is what we're building next.
I decide what I'm chasing. Quest shows me what I have and what's missing. I show it to people. Somebody helps me finish it.
Quest understands a graded rookie and a foil alt-art with the same eye — and knows what run each one belongs to.
Nothing you own is visible to anyone until you decide to show it.
No public profile, no feed, no leaderboard. A show goes to the people you send it to, and no further.
A small founding group gets in first — chosen for what they're chasing, not how loudly. Leave an address and tell us the quest.