Forsunken

A shipwrecked nobody builds a crew, a warship, and a legend across a lawless sea — to return and kill the Kraken that drowned them.

Some crews shout fire. Yours answers.

You went down with the Mercy of Saint Anne in water no chart will name.

You came up with splinters, a knife, and a debt the sea owes you.

The Kraken is out there. So is everything you'll need to kill it.

What the charts don't name

Five things sailors agree on: the sea is hungry, and it is patient.

The Kraken — a colossal curled tentacle rising from black water beside a tiny ship

The Kraken

The one that took your ship. Older than the trade winds. Smarter than your captain was.

The Bloop — an abyssal shape below a lone rowboat, water bending over it

The Bloop

In 1997, NOAA hydrophones caught a sound louder than any whale ever recorded. It came from something living. This is that thing's den.

The Megalodon — a shark longer than your hull passing under the keel

The Megalodon

Extinct is a word land-dwellers use. The hull scars say otherwise.

The Orca — a pale-eyed orca leading a pod through moonlit wreckage

The Pale Orca

Hunts in silence. Coordinates the pod like a commodore. Takes ships' boats first, so no one leaves.

The Island Crab — an island that is not an island, legs unfolding from the reef

The Island Crab

Some of the twenty islands are islands. Some are patient. Anchor accordingly.

The life

Not a power fantasy. A profession.

Sail for real

Wind, sail plan, and hull trim decide every chase. Square-rigged speed downwind, fore-and-aft pointing into it. Run out of sea room and the rocks decide for you.

Keep a crew

They eat, they drink, they get paid, and they remember. Loyalty is a ledger. Feed them well and they'll follow you into the ink; cheat them and check your grog.

Count your doubloons

Plunder, port fees, powder, payroll, bribes. Treasure buys the guns that buy the reputation that buys the crew that kills the Kraken. Waste none of it.

Chart twenty islands

From palm anchorages to fog-bound rocks. Fresh water, repair yards, buried caches, and things that do not want you anchored there.

Hunt the deep

Whale oil lights your lamps and fills your hold. The deep fills your nightmares. Blubber pays; teeth collect.

Shout "fire"

Voice command by default: call the shot and the gunnery answers. Some crews shout fire. Yours answers.

The sea is shared

Eight players. One ocean. No extra lives.

One hull, one fate

Crew the same ship — helm, gunnery, rigging, lookout — or split into allied squadrons. Communication is a weapon; silence is a leak.

A living chart

Convoys reroute around your legend. Colonies remember your flag. Rival crews you sink at noon may return at dusk with friends.

If the Kraken takes the ship, it takes all of you.

From the water

Key art and captured footage. Click to enlarge.

Course to launch

Where we are, and where the current runs.

Answer the muster

Wishlist on Steam and join the crew quarters for dev logs, playtest keys, and kraken sightings.

Press & creators

Everything you need to cover the sea. Write to press@forsunken.com for anything else.

Fact sheet

Title
Forsunken
Genre
Open-ocean pirate survival RPG
Players
1–8 online co-op
Platforms
PC (Steam), consoles TBA
Engine
Custom
Developer
Forsunken Crew
Release
Wishlist now — date to be announced