Speaking of Japanese Role-Playing Games, what comes to mind first? Sluggish combat pacing? Lengthy static dialogues? Or poor graphical performance?
Ever since JRPGs were recognized as an independent game genre and entered the public eye, these viewpoints have begun to permeate the player community. For a long time, it seemed that CRPGs, with their more intuitive combat presentation, realistic art style, and alignment with mainstream gaming values, were the correct answer for role-playing games.
Interestingly, the more practitioners deconstruct JRPGs, the more they discover their unique charm: behind turn-based combat lies a strategic depth that appears simple but is actually quite nuanced; behind outdated graphics lies the most unique aesthetic expression within small-to-medium budgets; and those seemingly shallow stories become clever tools for evoking player emotions. Perhaps this is why, although everyone claims to dislike turn-based systems, JRPGs are thriving more than ever.
So, someone asked: Is it possible to take the most "essential" elements from both types of RPGs and stitch them together into something new that no one has ever seen before?
There's no need to beat around the bush. As the title suggests, this "thing stitched together from the essence of different game genres" is none other than "Sea of Oblivion," which has just started its third round of testing (officially named the "Dawnbreaker Test").
This is certainly not the first time we've discussed "Sea of Oblivion." But the amazing thing is that every time you play it, you always come away with slightly different feelings, perhaps because the angle and direction of the experience have changed. After all, it stitches together so many things that each playthrough feels a bit "unfocused."
But this isn't necessarily a bad thing. As we often say, "being able to stitch things together" is no big deal. But if you stitch Everythinggj in and the result actually looks legitimate, that's true skill.
And that's exactly what the gameplay experience of "Sea of Oblivion" is like. First, it has a very typical "role-playing game" framework: players take on the role of a captain who has lost his memory, embarking on a maritime adventure with companions to find himself. Second, it uses the contemporary pop culture concept of the "Age of Discovery" as the main axis for its gameplay and story: you can customize your own ship and crew, leading them between various islands and seas, digging up valuable treasures, and challenging legendary giant sea monsters.
Looking at the modern game market, you seem to recognize every element here. Without sufficient information, players might easily associate it with some old Western fantasy CRPGs.
But if you say it's a conventional Western fantasy CRPG, "Sea of Oblivion" seems to have an overly strong desire for personalized expression.
This is all because Joker Studio loves to "march to the beat of their own drum." Starting with "Identity V," they became known for their non-mainstream "puppet" art style. In "Sea of Oblivion," this persistence, which completely defies market norms, brings another set of more humorous visual expressions to the game. Unlike "Identity V," all characters in the game, including the player, have unique "puppet" features that are even more chaotic and disordered. This allows the game to tell its story in a more nonsensical and witty tone.
You can discover this very early in the game: shortly after the story begins, the protagonist awakens in a basement filled with complex machinery. His assistant tells him that when he was found, his condition was terrible—not only had he lost all his memories, but his body was covered in injuries. So, what do you do now?
So, he sets about preparing a new body for you—after all, we are puppets, right?
Typically, we tend to give the main character's appearance a certain "personality" so they don't get lost in the crowd. But after creating a character and running out of the basement, players realize it was all unnecessary worry. Against the backdrop of the puppet style, the outsiders are even more distinctive than each other. Not only do they have personality, but they are also stereotypical, resembling sailors who would live in pirate comics: rude, barbaric, clumsy, and alcohol-loving. As an essential part of sailor culture, the "new face" protagonist naturally gets dragged into an inexplicable "brawl" upon arrival.
It was also during this "brawl" that the player met the story's female protagonist, Ace, a manic girl reminiscent of Harley Quinn. For some reason, she looks exactly like the mysterious girl rescued alongside you. To unravel the mysterious connection between the two and the secrets of the protagonist's past, you embark on a magnificent adventure across the sea... But before that, you might end up making a fool of yourself by getting too engrossed in drinking and playing cards with others.
Once you've gone through the initiation ritual of the port city, you can basically grasp the tone of "Sea of Oblivion." It doesn't give players a mission to save the world, nor does it force cryptic NPCs to circle around you, nor does it involve complex grudges. It's simply a group of unreliable sailors eager to get rich, drooling over the sea buried with countless treasures... Think about it. When you are in such a world, whether you have amnesia or not, your desire to explore will be stimulated.
It has a bit of a fated feel, but it's not serious at all. In today's market, probably only shameless old-timers like "Fable" can stand on the same front as "Sea of Oblivion." Of course, compared to the true old guard, "Sea of Oblivion" is still a bit reserved—it doesn't even let me use farting as a greeting, and the characters lack extended interactions like accidentally pooping their pants.
But in terms of spirit, the aspects of "Sea of Oblivion" that remind people of these old-school CRPGs go far beyond this.
I still remember when I first entered "Sea of Oblivion." What surprised me most wasn't the resource-heavy story presentations or scene constructions, but a port city with an intricate structure and the residents within it.
In the game, players awaken in a medieval-style city called "Autopia." This is a port where countless ships dock, the center of various economic operations in the game, and an important base for players to develop their characters and exchange treasures for currency.
More importantly, every time the protagonist dies during their adventure, they return here. For a game with "Roguelike" and "extraction shooter" elements, its positioning is more like a "safe house" in the meta-game world, naturally tied to many important gameplay functions.
However, unlike all current "extraction shooter" games, the development team did not cut corners in design just because it was a "functional" location. On the contrary, "Autopia" in the game is even somewhat complex, featuring many characteristics of seaside cities, such as multi-level town structures, dispersed interaction points, and complex NPC compositions. These intricate designs allow "Autopia" to completely break away from the flat characteristics found in similar games.
When you focus on the city itself, you will discover: the scene composition here also serves the exploration gameplay. Every NPC has their own story, and hidden stories might be tucked away in any alley. Even if you're not in a hurry to go out to sea and "enter the game," you can still find plenty of fun here.
In fact, it adopts almost the same design logic as other islands in the game, so much so that when you set sail, you don't feel the seam between the meta and in-game worlds at all. It feels as if the ship is truly docked at the port, ready to depart at any moment.
But just when you think "Sea of Oblivion's" gameplay experience stems from its inherent CRPG spirit, it tells you in a more direct way: I'm really not, I really don't have that.
This change in perception comes from the "split" in the combat system after the player sets sail.
Combat in "Sea of Oblivion" can be roughly divided into two parts: naval battles and land battles. Naval battles are easy to understand; after all, it's a sailing-themed game, so there's no shortage of scenes involving firing cannons from medieval sailing ships. If that's the case, what could be more romantic than desperately turning the helm while challenging legendary ocean giants?
So, shortly after the game starts, the development team prepared such a thrilling naval conflict. The player pilots a fully armed warship and engages in fierce combat with a mysterious sea monster emitting an ominous glow. However, anyone who has played the game can guess the subsequent development: Just as you are about to defeat the sea monster, it suddenly unleashes a powerful move. With a blinding flash of light, we lose consciousness.
You know the rest of the story: the protagonist lost his memory and drifted to Autopia, which led to the events of the prologue.
Although the battle was lost, this intense naval conflict successfully conveyed the charm of driving and naval combat in "Sea of Oblivion" to the players.
Honestly, before actually playing the game, I already had certain expectations for the ship-driving experience. But unexpectedly, as a role-playing game, "Sea of Oblivion" has truly polished a handling feel akin to naval combat games. When players hold the helm, they feel a weight different from any modern vehicle. You can feel the huge wooden sailing ship changing direction with the wheel in your hands, yet it carries a hard-to-control sluggishness and inertia.
This operational feedback is especially clear in controller mode. It aligns well with player intuition, neither sacrificing the authentic sailing experience of traditional sailing ships nor feeling too hardcore. Even while sailing and firing cannons simultaneously, it always gives a feeling of being "in complete control."
This is why I use the word "polished" to describe the ship-handling feel in "Sea of Oblivion." Joker Studio obviously spent a lot of time finding a middle ground between realism and entertainment, referencing sailing-themed games like "Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag." As a result, the game achieves industry-leading standards in perspective design, aiming, and shooting.
And when the protagonist truly begins his journey as a captain, you gradually realize: the shocking battle against a giant sea monster at the beginning, a fight that combines spectacle and operability, is actually not rare in this game.
"Sea of Oblivion" divides its map based on various islands, effectively having a very standard "open world" structure—except this "open world" is for ships. In the current version, you can already pilot your ship to explore most areas on the chart. You can follow existing routes, discover secret islands untouched by others, recruit crew members, and upgrade your ship to prepare for battles against giant sea monsters. Although the game has a clear main storyline, it won't micromanage your exploration process. The meticulously polished sailing experience serves as lubrication and connection throughout.
So, according to your statement, isn't "Sea of Oblivion" even more of a CRPG with sailing elements? After all, such games do exist.
Not really. Because once you lead your crew out of Autopia's port, it transforms into an "extraction shooter" game with "Roguelike" elements, complete with BD builds. But if you dig deeper, you'll be surprised to find: why is the tactical depth of this game playing by JRPG rules?
The previous points are easy to understand. The story theme of "Sea of Oblivion" is playing as a sailor navigating and treasure hunting. However, under the commercial system of "live-service games," it urgently needs a gameplay framework that can continuously fuel gameplay without putting excessive pressure on development. Thus, the development team constructed a world that can be repeatedly reset. In this world, even if you die, you only lose the rewards from your adventure and build, allowing you to start over. But before that, you can also use some of the previously obtained adventure rewards to exchange for certain permanent upgrades.
See, isn't this the most common approach for Roguelike games?
As mentioned above, Autopia is a carefully designed "meta" world. Apart from Autopia, no other area in "Sea of Oblivion" is "completely safe." Creatures swimming in the sea, running on land, flying in the sky—whether they have legs, don't have legs, or have eight legs—can all pose a life-threatening danger to your crew members.
Therefore, to safely bring back treasures found during adventures, players need to make strategic arrangements to deal with different dangers. Within the Roguelike framework, you can determine each character's development direction from randomly generated traits, including active and passive skills, class roles, and equipment effects. Each character in the game has several different build potentials, and this build gameplay can be adjusted at any time as progress continues. Taking the player-controlled protagonist as an example, in the early stages of growth, he is a very standard "damage dealer" type. He can not only buff his own attack but also cause area damage to enemies through a "splash" effect attached to single-target attacks.
But during character progression, I began to realize a more realistic problem: with one healer and two damage dealers in the party, as enemy levels gradually increase, the margin for error in single-round decisions becomes compressed. To increase survival and sustainability, what I actually need is a "tank" who can draw fire. Coincidentally, another career path for the protagonist is "Tank." Players need to observe changes in the situation and adjust character development directions accordingly, which is one of the best embodiments of its strategic depth.
In "Sea of Oblivion," the embodiment of "strategic depth" goes far beyond this. In addition to Roguelike skill builds, it must be fully implemented in combat, completing a loop of progression and growth both inside and outside of runs.
Thus, we arrive at the part of "Sea of Oblivion" that has the most JRPG spirit. Yes, as a role-playing game that exudes CRPG vibes everywhere, "Sea of Oblivion" oddly adopts a turn-based plus command-based format for its combat. To put it nicely, it's classic, accurately portraying the "team battle" scenarios in RPGs. To put it bluntly, it's cliché... After all, there are plenty of people who don't like this stuff.
But does command-based necessarily mean it's not fun? Not necessarily. In many cases, the real reason many players dislike turn-based systems is that their pace is relatively slower, lacking direct sensory stimulation. Although combat in "Sea of Oblivion" is also dominated by turn-based mechanics, it clearly understands player demands. Its battles are fully represented by visible encounters and incorporate a certain degree of action elements. Enemies significantly weaker than the player can be taken out in one combo, which greatly enhances the game's sense of rhythm.
Additionally, the quirky puppet-style combat animations in "Sea of Oblivion" create a very distinct difference from other similar titles. Personally, I really enjoy the combat style of the female protagonist, Ace. Whether it's normal attacks or skill animations, they all embody her "manic" character trait.
There is another expansion design in the game with a strong CRPG style: the dice system. Although not explicitly stated, "Sea of Oblivion" incorporates many dice-like designs. Before each battle, players can actively trigger a dice check. If the value is higher than the enemy's, they can immediately release an area-of-effect attack at the start, further weakening the enemy. These designs further reduce the cost per round of combat.
Even regarding the most basic command-based combat elements in JRPGs, "Sea of Oblivion" has many innovative designs that catch the eye. It's impossible to say it hasn't learned from industry predecessors, but it has indeed learned and created something of its own.
This innovation is, once again, "dice." There is a mechanism in the game called "Mischief Time." Simply put, players can attach one to three dice to each round of combat commands. These dice act as bravery points similar to those in "Bravely Default" or "Octopath Traveler," which can be used to instantly enhance commands.
But its essence lies precisely in the fact that it uses "dice" rather than simple points. The dice rolls represent uncertainty and gambling. This leads to the game's most strategically deep tactical element: the dice-clashing mechanism in combat. Players can roll dice to compete against enemies. If the roll is greater than or equal to the opponent's, they enter "Mischief Time," gaining an extra action turn. Therefore, when to roll the dice and how many dice to roll involves considerable strategy. In this regard, "Sea of Oblivion" strongly embodies the JRPG spirit of deconstruction and reprocessing—dancing in shackles—which is rare in domestic games.
More importantly, all the things mentioned above are actually integrated: Roguelike and command-based systems, extraction shooter mechanics and progression builds.
These designs give "Sea of Oblivion" a level of completion rarely seen in similar games and effectively avoid a common problem in the current domestic RPG category: the disconnect between character growth and adventure. In similar RPGs, character progression systems are often separated. Under the traditional anime-style game framework, characters need to consume materials to gain permanent growth. This is done to give players more things to do and extend the lifespan of live-service games, but the drawbacks are often ignored: it reduces combat to a pure result-oriented manifestation, redundant content that is completely unnecessary for growth. Remember, whether in CRPGs or JRPGs, in traditional role-playing games, gaining experience through actual combat best fits the concept of "leveling up by fighting monsters." Ironically, over time, everyone seems to have forgotten that this is what RPGs should look like.
The biggest advantage of Roguelikes is that they don't fear characters having robust progression models.
Although it is only "in-run" and "temporary," it represents a significant concession for this type of game. This is likely a situation that many RPG enthusiasts would be happy to see—
What I mean is, finally, someone is willing to put some thought into this issue.
Of course, this "Dawnbreaker Test" is ultimately just an early test during development. The game content far exceeds expectations, and the limited testing period means we can only revolve around the game's performance. But since we can see highlights, there are inevitably some aspects that may raise doubts.
Additionally, this test re-showcased the business model that will be used in the official release, which is both expected and reasonable. "Sea of Oblivion" will still adopt the most common gacha format on the market, where characters are obtained probabilistically through gacha pulls, and some costumes require payment. For players accustomed to the domestic live-service game ecosystem, this model is neither good nor bad, so there's not much to comment on.
In comparison, the performance issues in the current version of "Sea of Oblivion" are more concerning. During long sessions and with stacked effects, the game experiences noticeable stuttering. Although I cannot determine the exact cause, judging by the frequency, this stuttering is definitely not an isolated incident.
Fortunately, the development team seems to be addressing this issue. Seeing the game's current high level of completion, I am willing to have enough confidence in them—
If you can stitch together so many seemingly contradictory elements so convincingly, what else could possibly stump you?