Flint: Treasure of Oblivion – It’ll Make You go Arghhh

What is the appeal of playing as a pirate? Is it the open sea? Is it the dastardly deeds? Is it the hoards of treasure, the camaraderie of the crew, or the freedom to do as you please, without a care in the world?

Whatever it is, Flint: Treasure of Oblivion seems rather oblivious to it. And, among its titular character’s many sins, that may be the greatest: that Flint himself is not someone I want to play as, and does not embark on a quest that fulfills those desires. Whatever Captain Jack Sparrow had, Captain Flint lacks.

But, despite that, and despite the score I am giving the game, I do not want to condemn Flint to oblivion. Because, through the rough patchers, there is a lot to like about Flint: Treasure of Oblivion. Dozens of disparate elements that individually captivate and innovate, and are smart in their own right, but falter when combined. All because Flint — the character and the game — has a thousand symptoms of a singular curse: ambition.

And so now, let us see just how ambition and hubris can drive a game to the bottom of Davy Jones’ Locker.

An Epic Yarn, Without A Worthy Captain

Flint: Treasure of Oblivion tells the tale of Captain Flint. When we meet the man, he is baking under the hot sun, barely clinging to life on a the flotsam of his destroyed ship, with only a single companion still at his side. And, after confirming that there is no food remaining, the first decision we see Flint make — one that we, the player, have no say in — is to attempt to eat his only surviving friend.

And there, we come to our first issue that I have with Flint’s narrative: he is just always like that. Conniving, cruel, and wicked. His friend bats him off, and allies once again with him as he returns to shore, but later characters Flint meets aren’t so lucky. In order to regain power, he organizes a crew while ashore with the intention of mutinying its captain. Once he does, he executes a man who has done him no wrong. And later, he connives with all the right people in order to kill and harm whoever he needs in order to avenge his losses and acquire his treasure.

And, for this behavior, he is only ever rewarded. The poor fortune that falls upon him happens distantly, and with no relation to his heinous actions, and the good fortune that piles up on his lap does so as a direct result of his wanton wickedness.

He never learns. He never grows. He has no arc to speak of, unless I missed it in the rambling plot that sure uses the terms “memories” and “cycles” with incoherent glee.

And that, by itself, would be well enough, if Flint at least had the pizzazz to be evil interestingly. But instead, it is all too mundane. Trick a good man, then beat him when he is fooled, all so that Flint may escape and pursue his treasure. It isn’t interesting, and what little commentary the game provides does not analyze this behavior; it simply is. Flint is an unlikable and mean person, and one who commands the loyalty of an ever-growing crew for no reason whatsoever that I can discern.

And of that crew, who surround him and often contribute to individual scenes… Well, I unfortunately have little to say about them. They are universally forgettable and one note, often appearing for only a single scene before they are added to the absurd roster of Flint’s allies. And the only exception — Flint’s closest Billy — is only exceptional in that he is even more unpleasant and cruel than Flint himself (at least until the point where he disappears offscreen).

Combine this with an overwrought plot that seems to only act as an excuse for visiting cool locations and partaking in set piece battles, and you are left with a game which has an abundance of style, but which spends that style to tell a story brimming with stereotypes, unlikable protagonists, a befuddling plot, and nothing much in the way of themes whatsoever.

And before you ask: no, there aren’t really any real choices to speak of in Flint: Treasure of Oblivion. You are on a set course, and you will go through it. More like a ride a Disney than a pirate-themed Disco Elysium.

Flint’s story doesn’t confuse me, not really, but it does leave me puzzled. Because there is care put into the story — we will talk about that when we talk about the style, later on. Care that indicates that many different creative eyes and diligent hands worked on each element. And yet, to put it bluntly… this is what came out of it? Good moment-to-moment writing, great character designs, a frankly iconic visual style, and all used just to tell a generic story of an awful person getting everything he wants, without any layers or depth.

It stinks of a time crunch. Of an inability to tell the story that developer Savage Level wanted to tell, with the depth they wanted to tell it, because of cuts and removals. And, in case this seems speculative, allow me to strengthen my case: next, we discuss Flint: Treasure of Oblivion’s gameplay.

The Sound the Cannon Makes is “Clunk”

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen any game have so many systems that I wished were expanded upon than Flint: Treasure of Oblivion. And, at the same time, it has been quite some time since I’ve seen a game that could’ve used with more cutting of those same systems. Scattered throughout Flint are probably over a dozen small, smart systems that made me perk up when I saw them, only to add to a diluted mess of a game due of having to share with so many other mechanics in such a short game (clocking in at just about 9 hours).

To start, let me list a few things that I liked about the mechanics of Flint: Treasure of Oblivion:

• I liked that you grow your crew over time, and use them all in massive battles involving all combatants.
  • Until I realized those battles were tedious and the crew’s abilities were confusing.
• I liked that you could assign individual loadouts to each member of the crew, and had a variety of ways to level them up each time.
  • Until the point where all of my characters reached max level at the same time, and I spent ten minutes organizing, leveling, and equipping every one for the coming battle.
• I liked the tactical combat and the turns.
  • Until I figured out the right combination of attacks so as to never lose again.
• I liked the brutality of the combat, with the chance that any character could be killed with a single well-placed volley of attacks.
  • Until I learned that — despite having items that revive characters — certain characters being killed would end the scenario and force me to restart it.
• I liked the interplay between powerful ranged options versus versatile melee options versus cunning environmental options.
  • Until I understood that there were simply optimal combinations that could annihilate any enemies.
• I liked how many things involved dice rolls, and how that tabletop inspiration was adapted to the digital medium extremely well.
  • Until I saw how easy it was to use rerolls to manipulate the game into guaranteed successes.

In brief, there are a lot of good ideas in Flint: Treasure of Oblivion’s gameplay. Unfortunately, nearly every good idea comes with a drawback.

And, largely, I can identify the problem: Flint was meant to be a larger game than it ended up. In just 9 hours, these dozens of complicated — but smart — ideas just don’t have enough time to breathe. All of them need to be in play far too early, before you’ve ever mastered the previous mechanic introduced, and all of them require the player to either instantly understand them or completely forget about them. The combats have to accelerate quickly, and the ideas at play cannot expand naturally, but are rather crunched into this confined, linear, short narrative.

Nowhere is this better displayed by the fact that, by the end of Act 1 out of 5, Flint’s crew already numbered over a dozen characters (plus another dozen personality-less backups), and with whom I needed to select, upgrade, and outfit five in order to partake in a huge battle. By the end of Act 2, several more characters appeared, and I needed to select, upgrade, and outfit fifteen sailors across three groups.

It is overwhelming and excessive in the moment. And yet, by the end of the game, the many systems are also each so individually shallow that any encounter can be easily steamrolled, as you will eventually realize how limited your options truly are if you want to play optimally.

And, in truth, I can see what they were trying: a very complicated, tactical game where you need to carefully decide from a range of options at every step along the way, from who you take on your crew and what you outfit them with, to where they should move and who they should attack. In other words: they were going for what every good tactical RPG goes for.

But, unlike those XCOMs and those Jagged Alliances, Flint doesn’t have the luxury of slowly building up on mechanics and complexity over the course of dozens of hours, nor does it have the clarity and depth in its individual choices for them to be as meaningful.

That isn’t even to talk about the overall janky feel of the game, requiring odd click-and-holds over spots that you wouldn’t expect and failing to really explain to you why the various rolls you get impact your opponents the way they do. Especially when combined with the convoluted-but-still-somehow-overly-simple combat mechanics at their base, it lends an overall unfinished feel to Flint: Treasure of Oblivion.

It features many great ideas for a demo, and with some focus, those many ideas could work in harmony during a full, long game. But instead, Flint features the slapdash application of these good ideas in haphazard, confusing, and shallow ways, leading to frustration and tedium instead of the excitement and innovation that some of the game’s mechanics could bring.

This is saved somewhat by the sleek and stylish package that Flint wraps itself in — it is much easier to get through a slog if there are comic book panels in it — but that style is thin enough a veneer that it can be seen through even as early as the first Act of the game. To say nothing of how easily it peels by the end of the game.

But, we’ve talked enough about the negatives, and I’ve alluded enough to the positives: so, now it is time to discuss the thing that Flint does great: its style.

Tales of the Black Freighter Made Manifest

Now, I’ve spent quite a while tearing down the hard work of diligent developers who, unfortunately, were not given enough time to polish and expand their ideas into a truly workable game. But the same criticisms I’ve levelled at the story and gameplay of Flint: Treasure of Oblivion, I cannot level at its aesthetic. Because, my god, Flint: Treasure of Oblivion’s art direction and visual choices are fantastic.

To start with the most obvious thing: whenever Flint decides to engage in conversation, I leaned forward in my seat and smiled because I knew I was about to be treated to some of the best comic-book-style panels I’ve seen in a video game since Freedom Force. While not universal, the majority of conversation in the game happens through incredibly stylized panels that look like they came fresh out of the pages of The Tales of the Black Freighter — the fictional comic book that characters in the graphic novel The Watchmen read.

And, suffice to say, I adore this choice, and the artistry with which it is presented. It is the greatest missed opportunity of the entire game that those great comic book panels weren’t used to tell a better story (and perhaps one with more choices)… But I digress; this section is meant to be positive.

And so, we return to some other positives: the comic books panels in dialogue aren’t the only thing that look fantastic: all of the environmental art is stunning, and brings to life rich and varied locations that all look great while still being reminiscent of many early-2000s environments that clearly inspired them. And, while the character models and their animations don’t quite keep up with those environments, none of them look bad, and their nautical-themed models do fit with the tabletop vibe of the entire game, reminding me of miniatures that I might use to play a real-life pirate board game or TTRPG.

And that is to say nothing of the dozens of character and item portraits, all of which are fantastically realized in painterly style, mimicking the artistic flair of 18th-century portraiture and 19th century romanticism. I could probably write an entire review just about those portraits, and it would be glowing.

That isn’t to say every aesthetic choice is perfect. There are some visual elements which are hard to see in the actual game (especially certain loot), the music and sound design aren’t particularly memorable, and (ironically) the more surreal locations lack the adventurous energy that the more piratical and grounded locales have.

But, overall, Flint’s artistic direction is great, and speaks to the possibility that the art team behind the game clearly had more time to work, and likely were the first step for many of the game’s ambitions. It makes me wonder, vacantly, whether or not the narrative and game designers found themselves struggling to make something coherent out of the already-finished art department’s efforts. But that is just speculation, based solely on how polished and fantastic the art direction of Flint is compared to its other elements.

Conclusion: Savvy?

At the end of the day, Flint: Treasure of Oblivion is both too much and not enough. It is too short of a game for how many mechanics and systems it has, while also forcing each of those mechanics down to their bare minimum in order to squeeze them in — eliminating depth. It features a cast of characters that are either not interesting enough, or are so over-the-top in their pirate ways so as to be unlikable and dull. It has fantastic art direction — with several fantastic visual choices really standing high above the rest of the game — but that art direction is all to serve lackluster narratives and unfinished gameplay.

And all of it just makes me wish that Flint: Treasure of Oblivion, had more. That it was able to have enough to sate its ambition. It needed more time, to be given more length. Its systems needed more depth, and its characters did too. Its plot needed more clarity, and its ideas needed more room to breathe.

None of the ideas in Flint: Treasure of Oblivion are bad on paper. And most of the ideas in Flint: Treasure of Oblivion would’ve been good in certain circumstances. Some — mostly in the visual department — even manage to reach that. And yet, by and large, most ideas in Flint failed, because of the game’s overreach and overconfidence while being underfunded and underbaked.

With more time and resources, Savage Level could easily take what they learned from Flint and turn it into a title that uses many of the same ideas, but expands on them and polishes them into perfection, with a tighter story given more room to breathe. There is potential there.

But, with Flint: Treasure of Oblivion being as it is, the team has not yet reached that potential, and — given that this is their debut title — may never get the chance to.

Though I may have been harsh on the title, I truly think its art and individual mechanics are worthwhile and innovative. Those with an eye for design — who may want to be inspired by good ideas and to reflect upon why they didn’t work — will find Flint: Treasure of Oblivion quite enjoyable, I think, despite its rough edges. For everyone else, I can’t recommend this title, but might suggest keeping an eye on its developers with the hope they may get another chance.

You can buy Flint: Treasure of Oblivion on Steam here. May you find it more seaworthy than I.