Behind the Scenes: The Sound of the Sea, Trumpets, and a Gong
Close your eyes in the middle of a Dovion match (not for too long, you'll sink) and listen. The sea, distant cannon fire, maybe a trumpet announcing bad news. Dovion's sound design is one of those things you only notice when it's missing — so today, we're giving it its due with a behind-the-scenes article on how we think about sound.
Our golden rule: a sound is information first
In a multiplayer action game, the screen is already packed: ships, cannonballs, islands, UI. Sound is the one channel that's always available — and crucially, it works in full 360 degrees, including for things happening off your screen. That's why, for us, every important sound answers a player's question before it tries to sound nice.
The perfect example is the Colonel's trumpet. When Colonel Mbappé — a parody character of our own making, worth repeating, who has nothing to do with the real footballer beyond the wink and nod — shows up with the caravan, a trumpet fanfare announces him to everyone. No need to read anything: the trumpet IS the message. You know a sly hunter is prowling, and your brain gets it in half a second. Same logic for the booming "Haaland has arrived!": when that boss (also a parody) shows up, it's better for everyone to be warned at the same time — as much a question of fairness as of atmosphere.
The gong, the sirens: sound as mechanic
Some sounds go further: they ARE gameplay.
- The Gong of the Depths, the ability of the Baleinier (whaler) lineage, is inherently audio-first: a gong strike that heals everyone around you and summons whales. We liked the idea precisely because a gong carries — both your allies and your enemies know something just happened.
- The siren's cry is a warning in itself: a shrieking siren can rally others. That sound should trigger a flight reflex in you — or a hunting one, if you know how to turn it to your advantage.
That's our filter for every new sound: does it teach the player something? If it's purely decorative, it stays subtle; if it informs, it's allowed to cut through the mix.
The ambience: the sea as backdrop, calm as contrast
Around those signals, there's the sonic carpet: the sea, the biome ambience, the world's breathing. Here, our inspiration mirrors the visual one — the same softness that makes players say the game "looks like a Ghibli film," which we broke down in behind the scenes of the rendering. A Dovion match alternates between long peaceful sailing stretches and bursts of chaos; sound has to deepen that contrast, not flatten it. If everything shouted all the time, nothing would warn you of anything anymore.
That's also why the center of the map has such an impact: as the fog thickens and the ambience shifts, your ears understand before your eyes that you've just entered dangerous waters.
And if you prefer silence?
We know plenty of you play on the bus, in class (we didn't say anything), or with your own music on. No worries: the game has sound settings, and it stays perfectly playable on mute — every vital piece of information has a visual equivalent too. A tour of the useful settings is in our options guide, and for a player-side look at the sound ambience, we've also got a guide dedicated to music and sound.
Next time a trumpet saves your skin, spare it a thought. And come lend an ear at sea: Play Dovion for free.