The Kraken
The one that took your ship. Older than the trade winds. Smarter than your captain was.
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.
Five things sailors agree on: the sea is hungry, and it is patient.
The one that took your ship. Older than the trade winds. Smarter than your captain was.
In 1997, NOAA hydrophones caught a sound louder than any whale ever recorded. It came from something living. This is that thing's den.
Extinct is a word land-dwellers use. The hull scars say otherwise.
Hunts in silence. Coordinates the pod like a commodore. Takes ships' boats first, so no one leaves.
Some of the twenty islands are islands. Some are patient. Anchor accordingly.
Not a power fantasy. A profession.
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.
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.
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.
From palm anchorages to fog-bound rocks. Fresh water, repair yards, buried caches, and things that do not want you anchored there.
Whale oil lights your lamps and fills your hold. The deep fills your nightmares. Blubber pays; teeth collect.
Voice command by default: call the shot and the gunnery answers. Some crews shout fire. Yours answers.
Key art and captured footage. Click to enlarge.
Where we are, and where the current runs.
Wishlist on Steam and join the crew quarters for dev logs, playtest keys, and kraken sightings.
Everything you need to cover the sea. Write to press@forsunken.com for anything else.