Spec Ops The Line

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

FBT is In The Shit in The Line.

Released in 2012, The Line quickly disappeared, buried under a year-long march of AAA sequels and derided by critics for its generic CoD clone game play. While some praise was given for its plotting, it was seen as a cynical attempt by 2K to use an aging franchise (the last Spec Ops was in 2002) to enter Call of Duty territory. The Line was completely ignored by gamers. So why re-up now?

Six months earlier, the UAE was hit by the worst sandstorm in history and the 33rd Battalion, led by Colonel Konrad, diverted against orders to aid in evacuating the populace after the region was declared a no-man’s-land. The 33rd were never heard from again. Suddenly a brief, repeating radio message from Konrad gets through the lingering storm, detailing that the mission had failed and the losses were ‘too many’. Then we’re dropped into the middle of a mid-air helicopter fight – at first it appears part of the flashback but it isn’t and it’s a frantic scramble for the fire button as helicopters try to blow us out of the sandy sky. It’s an insane, exhilarating opener as we fight around skyscrapers and building sites until suddenly, with only a cut to black and ‘earlier’ to indicate all that is to come, we fade up on one part Fallout, one part Mad Max; we’re in the boots of Captain Walker, who leads Lugo and Adams, delta operators sent into the remains of Dubai to recon and report the fate of the 33rd. As we walk, complaining about the sun, sand and shit detail we’ve landed, the tops of Dubai skyscrapers shimmer in the heat, half buried in the sand. Based on that opener, I guess the Deltas do more than just recon and report.

We pick our way through the ruined city and the bodies of those caught in the storm, the team bantering about the pointlessness of confirming what’s very clear – everybody’s dead. Then we discover not quite everyone. A bunch of locals appear brandishing weapons. It escalates, Walker fires, all hell breaks loose. Fairly typical Call of Duty hell. We’re shouting recognisable orders, killing bad guys in a well staged, frantic but typical gunfight. So far, so CoD and sand-swept Dubai is like a gaudy ghost town; ornate and stylised, one minute we’re in dark, body-strewn mausoleum-like shopping malls buried under sand, the next we’re picking our way from roofs to sand dunes – it’s really good, disorientating level design; when you get chance to stop and look around that is; The firefights are unforgiving, reaching an intensity on a par with Heat’s bank shootout. One wrong move, one falter and Walker’s down. There’s a standout early on where there’s guys on multiple levels of a building and I’m being flanked and then a sandstorm rolls in and I realise we’re on the glass roof of a building and the hail of bullets are weakening it. But The Line feels similar to CoD and others – It all merges.

As we push on, what happened comes to light. The 33rd‘s evac failed catastrophically and thousands were lost to the sand. Riots and panic swelled and Konrad declared martial law to wait it out. But the storm didn’t end and Konrad seemed to shift from saviour to dictator. A splinter group of 33rd attempted a coup with little success while the locals banded into a resistance – added to the mix was the CIA, who’ve covertly entered Dubai to cover up Konrad’s little fiefdom. The 33rd think we’re with the CIA, so we have no choice but to return their fire too and push on for answers. But before we reach Konrad it gets much worse, as The Line attempts to steal CoD’s crown with its very own ‘No Russian’ mission.

Walker discovers a ‘white phosphorous’ mortar, and to the disgust of his teammates, turns it on a group of patrolling 33rd between them and Konrad. The result is devastating and sickening. While The Line’s No Russian moment could be dismissed as a cynical move – and most reviews felt it was just that – it has more weight than any contentious moment in CoD; the scene changes everything, including the characters and it’s never forgotten. Walker starts to show signs of stress and it’s interesting to inhabit a character who might be cracking; usually that’s left up to your followers while you stoically press on, if it has any real impact on you at all.

Things continue to get worse for Delta. Pulled into the CIA’s private little war we doom the refugees, the 33rd – and ourselves, before eventually reaching Radioman, a DJ we’ve been hearing who, when he’s not extolling Konrad’s actions is feeding the 33rd info on our movements and laying traps for the CIA. By now we don’t have the patience for him and we leave the radio tower with Konrad’s position. It’s personal now. Where early on, Walker professionally barked out orders now he’s screaming for the team to kill the fuckers and swearing revenge on Konrad, who just goads Walker while setting him impossible choices to prove Walker’s not the soldier Konrad is.

At last we reach Konrad’s compound and the ending is reminiscent of Bioshock’s Ryan encounter. It’s a wordy, head-spinning boss-fight as Konrad and Walker face up to their actions. As the final twists and choices play out, the true brutality of war – not what men do, but what they tell themselves in order to do it – is explored. As bad as they are, those choices feel chillingly, horribly right no matter which you pick. What the hell did I just play?

For two thirds we’re just playing CoD:Dubai but that other third, that 33rd … did I just play an anti-war shooter? The ending is definitive but when we caught up with the Helicopter fight from the start, Walker yelled “This isn’t right, we did this already”. Walker got Deja-vu? Time for some of my own. I’m going to cross the line again.

Critics of The Line complained the ending meant zero replay value, but on an immediate replay, now aware of what’s coming I start to notice clues. And they’re everywhere. The Line is one of the most subversive games I’ve ever played. As I battle through the firefights, pondering how cliché they are, how daftly extreme, Walker’s opening line about having done this already suddenly makes sense (least to me); we have done this already – The Line is a parody, a commentary and criticism of modern tactical shooters, of their repetitiveness and cynical realism (it’s okay to shoot them, they’re ‘extremists’). The Nazi shooters were palatable for obvious reasons, as are the sci-fi, zombie, horror games but the Modern era is just … The Line took that a step further into satire and has me shooting US Troops – Walker’s doing it without orders but I didn’t even question it.

Walker insists Konrad, his hero and mentor, will have the answers – therefore we’re justified in any action we take that gets us that truth. That’s a typical CoD trope if ever I heard one – But Walker doesn’t need answers, he’s not been ordered to get any. The White Phosphorous, the CIA’s plan, killing hundreds of US troops, dooming the refugees, Walker didn’t need to do any of it but we go along because it’s how we expect our shooter hero to behave, that the end will justify the means, but it really hits home during the confrontation with the Radioman; I realise this time it’s his directions the 33rd had been responding to not Konrad. Was he taking orders from him or acting out his own war fantasy? Was he brainwashed by Konrad’s rhetoric? We’ll never know because Walker doesn’t ask; I realise now the Radioman could have been forced to stand down the 33rd and stopped this. It’s as if Walker allowed it to happen so he could continue his personal mission, wanting to stop Konrad the old-fashioned way.

As I reach the final push, Walker’s hallucinations take on an almost unbearable level of intensity. First time they were arty distractionsbut now knowing the ending they really hit home, representing Walker’s mind breaking as it tries to reconcile what we’ve done. You just want him to stop but it won’t; The Line stays firmly in the now; there’s no cut scenes, none of the mission complete or v/o explaining the battlefield before deployment; we’re never removed from the event, it’s oppressive and real-time and you can’t stop. Even the loading screens, traditionally where you pick up useless info like how to crouch instead update you on the futility of Walker’s actions – and his failures. Repeating the ending with its various choices doesn’t really offer any catharsis. It’s all bad after what we did, but despite being totally aware of what’s going to happen, I’m still shell-shocked by what The Line put me through even if ‘we did this already’.

The Line is obviously Apocalypse Now the Video Game, complete with Walker living through Willard’s descent, Konrad (being a reference to Joseph Conrad) going native and the Radioman filling in for Dennis Hopper but it’s more than that; The Line is parodying me as much as the genre; I’m listed as a guest star in the castlist. There’s a scene where Delta is surrounded by furious refugees. First play, I aimed at them and they backed off. This time, I pulled the trigger … and the game awards me an achievement for it. If that’s not a comment on shooters, shoot me.

Even 2K fell for the cover art. They forced in a multiplayer option exposing their CoD-Franchise expectations but seeing Multiplayer in the menu now, it’s like a delicious in-joke worthy of Tyler Durden; a meta-comment on the shooter genre, how do you deathmatch The Line? 2K expected Saving Private Ryan and got Three Kings. It’s a credit to Yager that they managed to keep The Line’s satire and horrors intact; the choices we make are never good; we don’t have a Paragon option – it’s all Renegade. A Good Ending where White Saviour Walker leads a bunch of grateful refugees to safety would have completely undone what the game is saying and I’m amazed that didn’t end up a 2K-enforced option, a more palatable marketing angle.

The Line tanked on release; to be fair though, it must have been an impossible game to market; How do you sell a shooter that’s anti-war and takes sly digs at the gamer? How do you differentiate The Line without spoiling it? It’s a shame that The Line didn’t at least develop a cult following. It should have been Nevermind to CoD MW’s Use Your Illusion, exposed military FPS’s ego and cock-rock pretensions but instead we got more of the same old. The Line made me realise it’s iffy to be re-enacting realistic modern warfare as entertainment. Too soon. Much of it is open to interpretation (I could be wrong about the Deja-vu line) and that alone elevates it beyond any typical follow-orders war shooter. But it doesn’t elevate the genre, it turns a mirror on it, and on us gamers who want it to be real, just not real-real. Not white-phosphorus real. The Line is the definitive present-day war shooter.

Developer | Yager Development | Publisher 2K Games | 2012

platforms; Win | X360 | PS3

Monster Truck Madness

A Blast from the Past review

FBT relives a beer-soaked memory of crashing monster trucks in what he remembers as the best racing game of the nineties. How much beer did he drink?

The Past

Monster Truck Madness has a special spot in my gamer heart. Many nights were spent with friends and beers playing about in this game even though we shouldn’t have. Not because it was outside our age rating or we’d stolen it, but because it seemed too shiny and pleasant, a kids game. We were all about Doom and Road Rash, what was this doing on our rig? You couldn’t even run people over. We put it on for an ironic laugh, and then we were laughing for reals.

I remember MTM as a bright, silly, fun racer. A year later two racing games were released that spoke to me on a higher, more intellectual level – GTA and Carmageddon; Everything that MTM was not. But up ‘till then, MTM was the only racer I played that let me drive how I wanted; Like a maniac. Sure there were demolition derby-style games, but they kept within the confines of the track. MTM had tracks in an open environment; the game seemed to nudge you and say ‘go on, have a muck about’. You’re driving a monster truck – if there was ever a game that could break the rules, it’s this one.

While Carma’s violence and GTA’s criminal behaviour had me cackling at the mayhem, MTM made me giggle with sheer fun. The commentator’s dialogue, neatly tied to your actions just added encouragement to messing about; ‘Gravedigger is looking for a detour!’ he screamed when I drove off into a nearby field, ‘Gravedigger is doin’ it in the air’ he’d inform the crowd when I went airborne or ‘Leannnnnnnnn into it!’ if you looked set to tip your truck over. Oh we did lean into it, and how.

The trucks were mostly based on real-life machines – the Big Daddy Bigfoot featured along with other ‘famous’ monster trucks of the day. I don’t remember much about the tracks but that’s likely because I was rarely on them. The game didn’t really care what you got up to, it didn’t constantly flash ‘wrong way’ or auto place you back on the track if you ventured too far and the contestants didn’t pull over once they finished, they kept truckin’. As soon as we realised this, we stopped even trying to win a game. Much like Driver, released 3 years later, where we’d bump a copper then run for it and see who lasted the longest, in MTM we’d just hang a right as soon as possible then drive towards the other trucks to cause pile ups then relive our greatest moments in the replay menu. Because most of the environment was moveable, within minutes we’d be shunting caravans, bins, trees, anything possible into the path of the oncoming trucks. The AI wasn’t too smart but it knew to avoid something it could see, so we created a new genre – stealth monster trucking. We’d back Gravedigger up behind a billboard and wait, switching views (you could switch views!) to Bigfoot and watch to as it hammered around the track, blissfully unaware a competitor was not taking this seriously. ‘Bigfoot is hanging ten!’ the commentator would yell as it hit the portapotty I shunted into his path and span off. I don’t know why but we spent hours doing this. Hours planning traps and exploring the region looking for things to push miles back onto the track. It became a badge of honour to send an opponent into the abyss and hear the commentator yelling ‘Bigfoot is calling in the whirly bird’ and we knew we’d bested him. Name one other racing game where instead of hitting ‘reset’, you called in a helicopter to recover you?

I’m really excited to get back to the madness; if there was ever a game title I took to heart it was this one. I never won a race, but I never had so much fun losing.

Still a Blast?

So yeah, maybe alcohol played a part in this memory. The game is exactly how I remembered, but with a whole lot of rose-tint going on. Once the game starts, I am struck by one thing; I am old.

The commentator ‘Army Armstrong’ is there spouting encouragements and updates but it’s gotten hard to look at and control and what I remembered as the thundering sound of monster trucks now sounds like my phone vibrating on my desk. I justify it’s rough and ready feel as part of the charm, that it was never going to stand up graphically to modern games but even I’m surprised at how basic this looks, how clunky it feels. It’s 20yrs old I argue, age isn’t a barrier to playability I whine, but I have to consider that during this time, Playstation and N64 were at war and racing games were the battlefield – they had the genre down to a fine art and were pulling people away from PC. It seems as if Microsoft’s studios were trying to offer equally bright shiny fun with MTM and its stable mates Midtown and Motocross but graphically it looks like a port from the previous generation of consoles. This should have been a precursor to Carma or GTA but MTM looks like something you’d be playing down the arcade ten years earlier.

I shove caravans into Bigfoot’s path but he easily dodges them and when I do finally spring a trap it’s nowhere near as ballistic; there’s not the hysterics or the physics I remember. Mostly they back up and continue on. I wonder if we were so drunk we thought we were controlling the cutscenes.

When I do start to take it a little more seriously, MTM takes on a life of it’s own. The tracks are basic but you need to keep an eye on where they’re twisting and looping – and not get distracted by the giant dinosaur eating a car on the side of the track (A robosaurous I believe) – there’s jumps, shortcuts and loads of areas you get caught out by. I never get close to winning a race, but it’s really hectic, daft and great fun. There’s other modes I never tried before, and lost at as well – Drag and Rally as well as Circuit.

So MTM should definitely have stayed in the past? Maybe not. When I compare it to my memories, it’s a letdown but that’s unfair. When I play GTA5 I spend all my time stressing about scratching my delicate car or injuring myself. Like in real life. Games have become so life-like, so real they’re not an escape anymore. The moment I bring real-world worries into what’s supposed to be escapism it’s gone too far. Games didn’t used to be like that and MTM reminds me of that time. It makes me want to dig out Carma, GTA VC and Driver, drive it like I stole it not like I bought it on a payday loan. Only Saints Row 3 has come close to this level of nuts and MTM just really wants you to have fun – you can chose your truck, who you race against, the tracks; it doesn’t force you to win to unlock, you’re not scoring prize money to upgrade – it’s as up for fun as you are, which is also lacking in games nowadays. If there was ever a game to get a second life as a iOS racer app like Carmageddon did, MTM is it.

It may not be the game I remember, but as Army often yells; ‘That’s gonna leave a mark!’ He’s right, MTM did. MTM informed my expectations of racers for game-generations to come. It’s because of MTM I was disappointed in GTA5. That’s a memory, alcohol-infused or not. And who doesn’t want to drive Bigfoot? Or at least trick it into hitting a portapotty.

1996 | Developer Terminal Reality | Publisher Microsoft

Platforms; Win, N64

Rage

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

Do not go gentle into that good night, old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the id.

All id have ever been known for is FPS. They set the standard with one game, Doom. Then carried on remaking it for the next 20 years before being bought by Bethesda. It’s almost a final act of rebellion that their last game as an indie would, instead of being a FPS be an RPG, a genre they’ve never even tackled before. Could they do for RPG what Doom did for FPS? That would be a suitably apocalyptic ending for the original rebel indie.

id’s apocalypse starts with an asteroid hitting Earth and unfortunately the only thing to survive was a copy of Fallout 3. Meanwhile, the army, scientists, thinkers, id’s originality, were placed in underground Vaults – sorry, Arks to escape the destruction. After his cryo-freeze malfunctions, Rageguy is thawed out and, sunlight blinding us like an iconic vault exit moment, we see what became of the world. It’s a wasteland, where we meet a wastelander (from Rage’s wasteland, not Fallout 3’s The Wasteland, just to be clear), one of the descendants of those who survived the impact on the surface. He takes us back to Megaton – I mean, a settlement, where quests to recover inconsequential things heavily guarded by raiders await.

You can argue there’s only one way a post-apocalyptic world was going to end up and Rage is reflecting the same outcome explored in Fallout, but I don’t buy that. The ruined buildings, sun-scorched look, raiders vs settlers, the feel of it; Rage copied Fallout 3’s homework as lazily as a Bethesda DLC and filled in the blanks with Mad Max. id were famous for never bothering to set the scene, the storyline was barely a line in the manual but this time we don’t need a manual because we’ve been here before. Couldn’t they have done something different, set it immediately after the impact as everything collapses, or make out society didn’t recover and just have it as Rageguy alone, or changed it environmentally, make out the asteroid caused a flood – us picking our way around the ruins with water and nasties swimming about; that would have been a different take, had folks zipping about on Airboats? Instead we’re pootling about in Dune Buggies and thinking about how good Fallout 3 was. And once we’re over the Fallout 3 feel, we realise Rage is a po-faced Borderlands.

Borderlands opens with you helping an outpost against bandits. Rage opens with you helping an outpost against bandits. Both feature a knowledgeable local who needs menial jobs doing which end with getting a gate open to reach a bigger town where the plot is. It’s beat for beat the first act of Borderlands before falling back into Fallout 3 with ‘The Authority’ standing in for Fallout 3’s Enclave. There is a major difference between Rage and Fallout 3/Borderlands though; Rage has no plot. There’s the id I remember.

At least, no personal plot. Rageguy wakes up mute and stays mute. He’s just been thawed then a gun thrust in his hands and he’s pointed at the nearest raiders?! Lucky he turned out to be a marine not a scientist then. Or id’s originality. He’s not hungry, thirsty, confused, curious – doesn’t even need the loo. Rage could have distinguished itself by having an RPG hero that speaks for once, reacts; Rageguy has less context than either Fallout 3 or Borderlands’ protagonists and yet he isn’t even slightly flabbergasted by the state of the world. There’s stoic and then there’s vacant; it’s only okay to have a blank canvas if you get to impress your digital personality onto him, but it’s a strictly linear game with no choices or impacts – the only emotion Rage triggers is familiarity. That’s a hell of an assumption on id’s part; in Fallout you had a personal mission but you chose how you went about it; in Borderlands, missions were mutually advantageous. Rageguy has zero characterisation yet he’s silently happy to fix someone’s leaky pipes? Oh, that’s Fallout 3. Even Doomguy has a personal reason; the hellspawn killed his pet rabbit Daisy. When an RPG has less characterisation than Doom you’ve got problems.

The larger plot is Rageguy’s hunted by The Authority, a militaristic group that controls the wasteland, because he has something even smaller than the plot; nanites. Added to his blood before cryo-sleep, they now provide him with better reflexes and healing properties, including a mini-game that kicks in before dying; you can time an electric shock to give you a health boost and kill anything nearby; like Borderlands’ Second Wind. But then nothing else happens with the nanites. No levelling up, cool abilities, it’s just why The Authority is looking for him – not that he’s bothered. They’re literally the plot. And wouldn’t Rageguy want to join The Authority? It’s the military and he’s a Marine so his natural response would be to re-up. In the game he’s shown no emotional attachment to the little folks so why is he against joining the more advanced Authority? Not that he’d get the chance, The Authority isn’t looking very hard and you never bump into them. Because there’s no freedom to bump.

In Fallout the biggest risk in heading to a location wasn’t what’s inside, it was the hundreds of distractions along the way. In Borderlands it was the constant threat and the lure of top loot in that clearly dangerous camp over there. And in both cases there was open terrain to cut across. But in Rage, Open is an alleyway. You drive linear paths, cliffs on either side, nowhere to go but where you’re going. There’s nothing out there. I was kinda hoping for a GTA Apocalypse with prime id attitude. Instead we’ve got a game where two-thirds of it has nothing to do. There’s loads to do the garage though; spikes, machine guns, rockets, upgrades – you pimp the hell out of your dune buggy then … just Uber from location to location. You meet raiders of course, but they’re just an annoyance you drive through. It is the most boring driving game I have ever played, but you can enter races.

Why am I entering races? Because Rageguy has nothing else to do. Just race his buggy around tracks that have floating power-ups. WHY THE HELL ARE THOSE HERE?! Is this game serious or just a knock about? You couldn’t make racing more interesting than Mario Kart with a Borderlands reskin? Do we get a banana skin powerup? Racing isn’t even tied into a larger plot, you just keep going round and round to generate tokens to upgrade your buggy and get across the map quicker. One of the upgrades is id decals for your car, then crash and burn it.

Once you’ve reached your marker, what happens when you get there? It’s not bad actually. If there’s one thing id do well, its shooting people. The shootouts can be intense and disorientating, and the locations tend to be close-quarters with them coming at you from everywhere. The various clans that you tangle with are straight out of … oh you get the idea. Bandits, nutjobs, mutations. They move-in fast, using exciting scripted leaps and bounds but while I’m a fan of tough baddies, those guys are playing on Nightmare mode. Even without armour they can shrug off two head shots or take a grenade and keep coming. id seemed to misinterpret Borderlands low-survivability rate and figured just make them really tough. Borderlands was more subtle than that plus you had room to move and a special skill to even the odds. They even crack-wise like Borderlands goons; id aping another shooter?

Missions cheat you as well. You can clear out an area then get sent back to find it full again. Borderlands repopulated places, but you weren’t sent into the same small, closed off arena time after time. id couldn’t see their way to creating more than a few locations? Eventually we reach a bigger town, tangle with The Authority and throw in with a rebel group, although we’re not entirely sure why or what the TA are up to, but no one involved cares. Worse, the franchise-starting ending implies this is just the beginning so it doesn’t even end, just stop.

Rage, of course, looks amazing. And it’s a solid, well produced game – but we’ve played it before. The question is, where? What is Rage? It’s not a full RPG or even a minimalist RPG; 2015’s Mad Max got that approach right by having a compelling lead who had a reason to travel light, to stay mobile. And he talked so we knew why we were -or weren’t- doing things. It’s not a Role Playing Shooter because you don’t even get to loot (One thing you can loot is a Pipboy Bobblehead … and that just makes Rage feel insecure) – the only looting here is id digging around in Fallout 3 and Borderlands; you can’t even pick up Raider weapons. Who doesn’t arm themselves, makes do with the same loadout until given a weapon? Wait a minute – No looting, no characterisation, silent hero, threadbare story, standard weapon loadout and no Role Playing? That means Rage is … a Doom Clone. Like every other id game. I should have known. It’s hardly worth a mention in the wasteland survival guide.

This is id’s final game as an indie and I have mixed feelings about that; in taking on RPG, a genre that’s starting to slip into the generic, id could have revitalised it and instead they made something this derivative? They changed the gaming world and rocked the real one for which I’ll always love them. But id did go gentle into that good night.

2011 | Developer id Software | Publisher Bethesda Softworks

Platforms; Win, PS3, X360

Morrowind | Oblivion | Skyrim – Pt2

A SECOND WIND special REVIEW

Morrowind, Oblivion & Skyrim – Pt2

Part Two of FBT’s special rambling ramble through the world of The Elder Scrolls. After winning the minds of Morrowind and the heart of Martin in Oblivion, he winds up in Skyrim without a visa. *spoilers*

I find myself on a horse-drawn cart. A hayride, how exciting after the prison ship of Morrowind and prison cell of Oblivion. Opposite me is a local. With a gag over his mouth. My hands are bound. A prison cart?! As we idle our way through a striking forest, another prisoner fills me in on what’s happening. Gag-guy is a ‘Jarl’, a local ruler called Ulfric who murdered the High-king of Skyrim for supporting Imperial rule rather than leading Skyrim’s succeeding from their control. Now we’re facing civil war between the Skyrim folk and the Imperial forces from Cyrodiil. Well me-laddo given me and my bro Martin just saved the empire I think I’ll have something to say about that, even if you can’t. As we reach a small, quaint town it turns out I won’t have time to say anything as I’m off to the headsman. Then we hear a strange roar. It’s all strange to me, but everyone else looks up and wonders what the hell was that. As the axe swings we hear another. By the nine it’s a dragon! Except, someone proclaims ‘By the eight it’s a dragon!’ Ohhh what happened to ‘By the Nine’, a phrase we heard throughou – Oh yeah, dragon. Dragon!

A huge, exciting dragon makes short work of the village and most of the folks in it. It’s a visceral moment, an absolute killer opening; the dragon is HUGE and I’m running about like a maniac until I realise I’m in an interactive cut-scene. There’s a hundred foot long dragon smacking holy hell out of everything and I’m safe from it even when I’m a foot away. I reach a guard and the prisoner who filled us in earlier; both ask me to follow them. I chose the hayride guy since the imperials were happy to kill me. Safe from the safe dragon, we tutorial our way through a ruined building looking for an escape. Fighting, spells, lock-picking (this doesn’t need a tutorial if you’ve played Fallout 3 or 4), and so on. Free, Hayrider thanks me for my help –he couldn’t have escaped without me following him– and suggests I go visit his sister (now that is a thank you), then takes off. I take my first step into Skyrim.

Skyrim is a huge step from Oblivion. There was five years between Oblivion and Skyrim but even so, the woodland, beautiful little streams, swaying grass, it’s so incredibly real – as in, not fantasy; it’s so close to a modern woodland I expect to see one of those dog poop bins. I debate which way to walk and take a look at the menu instead. Oblivion’s menu felt warm, like we were flicking through an old leather-bound book as did Morrowind’s insane diary, but Skyrim’s menu feels like an iOS; minimalist, clean, cold. The level up system looks beautiful though, with each ability represented as a star sign. We’ve got the usual inventory, which will get full of junk, weapons, magic and the much-shouted-about Dragon shouts. I’m looking forward to being a loudmouth so, against habit, I resolve to head towards Miss Hayride to get the main mission under way.

Where the hell is she?

The map is incredible and aggravating. It can be tilted and panned like Google Maps, but clouds pass over it obscuring everything. A map gives an RPG’er a sense not of direction, but how epic their adventure has been and how much more there is to do; it encourages exploring. From up here the adventure just looks cloudy and it keeps you at a distance.

Let’s make with the walking. There is a lot to walk in Skyrim and things to walk in to. The woodlands are lush with trees giving way to gorgeous rivers cutting through cliffs leading to castles, keeps, dungeons, forts, huge Dwemer ruins, camps, villages, graves, more ruins, but it all feels a bit realistic, familiar. More real than unreal, more recognisable than the high-fantasy of Morrowind. This just seems like 1970s Scotland. Most of the time fog descends, grey clouds roll over and it feels a bit depressed. Okay so it’s supposed to be an isolated and insulated part of Tamriel but Skyrim feels like I’m taking a shortcut through some inner-city park, where a bunch of scruffy kids will give me a quest to buy them a pack of Lambert & Butlers. The towns are cold and miserable and so are the NPCs. Sure, there’s a war on, that’ll make anyone grumpy but they’re as grey and humourless as their surroundings. It’s like the game was built to grey-scale rather than the lush colours of Oblivion or Morrowind’s stark contrasts. And if you’re not trudging through grey it’s white – snow is never interesting to look at in a game.

Fighting in Skyrim is hella fun, just repetitive. In Oblivion you can dual-wield sort of, if you had a sword in one hand and a spell or shield in the other. Skyrim goes for the ambidextrous look with two of almost anything, weapons and/or spells, except two-handed weapons of course. It doesn’t make a huge difference, you’ll still hack the hell out of everything, but in reskinning the death-animations from Fallout 3, you get some killer slo-mo kills; even on Dragons on occasion.

Problem is, the creatures are boring; dogs, wolves, bears, walruses, saber-cats and mammoths make up most of Skyrim’s creature features; it feels more like an alternative pre-history than fantasy game. None of the pure originality of a Netch or Guar, nothing truly fantasy. Worse, you quickly start to anticipate what you’ll encounter; every tomb has the zombie dead-walker types, every cave has a giant spider – cool, but when you’re unsurprised by a giant spider, something’s off and part of the problem is Skyrim’s sheer size. Dozens of samey crypts and caves means dozens of the samey creatures. Skyrim? Samerim.

There are some semi-human baddies we face up to, but they’re frustratingly under-used considering their backstory. We kill lots of the decrepit Falmer; Once ‘snow elves’, they were hunted to near extinction by Skyrim locals, the Nords, and hid in Dwemer ruins where subsiding on fungus turned them into blind monstrous slaves. It would have been involving to explore their tragic turn but they’re just fodder. Same goes for Hagraven; the only really f’ed up villains in the game who are criminally underused; a half bird woman!? That’s the stuff of nightmares. We do encounter a non-hostile Hagraven, which disappointingly behaves like a hiss and cackle witch from a kids tv show – how did the Hagraven end up so wasted? They’re amazing. Every time I encounter one I’m scared and disappointed in equal measure. Then there’s The Forsworn, reskinned Fallout 3 Raiders with a better backstory; forced into the wilderness by the Nords, they worship the Hagravens and demand the return of their land – there’s rumours they have spies in the cities sabotaging and weakening defences. Why aren’t they more heavily involved in the power struggle between the Nords and the Imperials? To get a well-organised and feared terrorist group on side in return for giving back their land seems like a no-brainer (Shepard would find a way) and the repercussions could be great; do you mobilise a dangerous group, can you control them, can they be trusted? None of that happens. Why does none of that happen?

There’s boo-hiss villains in the shape of the Thalmor who politically control the empire by using/abusing a peace-treaty struck after the power vacuum caused by the events of Oblivion (sorry). It’s their refusal to allow Talos worship (Martin’s ancestor! And the missing ‘Nine’) that triggers much of the events in Skyrim, but do we tangle with the Thalmor? Engage them, weaken their stranglehold, expose their machinations? Nope. They’re the power behind the throne, arguably the reason for all this unrest and coupled with the Forsworn and others we meet, this has the makings of a grand conspiracy, power-shifts, manipulations, sides to chose and repercussions to face; we are in the midst of a civil war after all, desperate times, desperate measures? Naa.

Anyway, Hayride explained when Talos worship was outlawed, Ulfric used it as a catalyst to rally the rest of the Nords to demand secession from the Empire and when – Sorry, can I just interject for a second? Ahem … DRAGONS! Anyone? I came for the giant flying lizards not to be tricked into Brexit the Video Game. Although you can choose allegiances you’re going to side with the Nords because they’re portrayed as the little guys trying to eke out a living vs the controlling Empire – plus you’ll go Nord if you’ve played Oblivion; Talos means something. Neither side is particularly compelling or pleasant though; the Imperials are not those of Oblivion and if you’d played as a Nord previously you’ll be disappointed at how racist your family is; although even that’s not consistent; they’re forcing everyone out of Skyrim who’s not pale-white with a mangled Norwegian accent yet they welcome me, an anthropomorphised Cat. Typical racist double-standards. I hate both sides, I’m gonna go make my own friends.

First stop, the Fighter’s guild – There is no fighter’s guild. Gone! Run off by the Nords I suppose. In its place, the Nord Companions. Companions? How is that cooler that FIGHTER’S GUILD!? The Companions?! It sounds like a local charity. What are we going to be doing, delivering meals on wheels, knitting scarfs? Who’s our sworn enemy, the Women’s Institute? They themselves aren’t too bad, sending you on odd-jobs, usually a tomb or crypt that needs clearing. That is until an internal issue pops up for you to sort out and be named as the new leader. It does offer a wicked cool option to be a werewolf, and they are brutal. Once that questline kicks in, I take back what I said about the Companions and I’m totally behind their church fete quest.

At first I thought why not have the FG replaced with someone we know, like the Blades. If Skyrim is isolationist it makes sense guilds wouldn’t have a presence, but the Blades would; He’s no Martin but there is an Emperor; he’d have sent the Blades in to see what’s what. That could be interesting – Nope. No new ‘spy guild’ for us. The Thalmor had the Blades disbanded and run off (By the Nords most likely) and all that’s left is a grumpy woman and an old fart. And, begrudgingly this time, me. They’re crow-barred in as a TES requirement and all they do is explain things and hate dragons as it turns out. Instead of endless rambling and driving the Dragon quest in a ‘you take care of this’ way that would have made Morrowind proud, we could have rebuilt the Blades and fumbled with the Thalmor! Re-forge them – No. We’ll stick with generic linear scripts we’ve used in TES since Arena thank you. When folks talk about the sheer size of Skyrim they’re talking about all the empty space where opportunity could have been.

The Thieves’ guild is also a shadow of its former self, living in the sewers and doing jobs for a local Crime Boss who runs the run-down town of Riften. The Thief we spend most of the time getting missions from just bangs on about restoring us to our former glory (We’re thieves, where’s the glory? It wasn’t glorious in Morrowind or Oblivion either); As we rob, ruin and intimidate folks for the Crime Boss, I realise I am actually a criminal and start to think this is refreshing. But that all gets dropped in favour of a completely obvious betrayal (They’re Thieves! Corrupt!) and guess who has to restore honour. I do this by joining an ancient group – Wait a minute, is it, could it be … Morrowind’s Bal Molagmer? Because that would be awes- no it’s the Nightingales. The what? Nightingales? I’m a hoodlum, not a 60s-back-up singer. The Thieves’ guild has fallen out of favour with its Daedric patron and her acolytes, Gladys Knight and the Nightingales must win her favour to bring down the betrayer. Something to do with the Daedra allots Thieves their luck. It was a lack of luck that got us betrayed, not the illegal aspect of our work attracting the wrong sort? Right. We best the betrayer and … Nothing. Why end just when it could have got interesting – the moral thievery they’ve been banging on about, become robin hoods, restart the Bal Molagmer, turn muddy Riften into a prosperous town, turn the tables on the Crime Boss; They’ve got a grand house, I figured we’d reclaim that as our new base but no it just ends and the Crime Boss literally craps on us from above. At Bethesda, someone looked at that quest line and said ‘End it with them still in the sewers? Job done.’ Just tell me the Dark Brotherhood are alive and well, killing.

After a deliciously nasty initiation ritual (Which you can ignore in favour of hunting down the Brotherhood instead) I find them living in a cave. Step up from a sewer I suppose but nothing on Oblivion’s creepy abandoned house in the middle of a town. My new friends are appropriately evil although not anywhere near as jovial or eccentric as those in Oblivion (“Good luck! I hope you don’t get killed!”). It’s another example Skyrim’s humourless characters; you rarely enjoy meeting them. Amongst my new clan are Astrid who leads our not-merry band and Babette who’s ripped shamelessly from Interview with the Vampire’s Claudia. The early missions are on a par with Oblivion’s, that is until a jester-like assassin, Cicero turns up. The Brotherhood needs a new Listener (top dog who gets kill orders from our Daedra, The Night Mother) and we all know who the Night Mother is going to choose … and then we’re betrayed. Technically twice. To be fair, the Dark Brotherhood quest has a lot of drama, another Shadowmere and it does end with the biggest assassination quest of the entire series, plus they do reclaim an old Brotherhood fort once I’m the Listener. And I get a spell to recall the spirit of my old Mentor from Oblivion. Nice to see him, under the circumstances.

The mages guild isn’t in Skyrim either (Nords deported them I’m guessing), but there is the College of Winterhold which feels like a DLC they forgot to put a lock on. I join the beginner’s class (Despite wielding spells pretty well by now) and on our first field trip we find something suspicious; a huge glowing ball. We’re then sent off to gather research while an even more suspicious mage takes an interest in it. Then … betrayal yadya yadya yadya. I kept playing truant because magic levels up with use anyway so why go to school and a big glowing ball just isn’t that interesting. There’s a subplot about super-mages who don’t want us unlocking the power of the big ball but all they do is tell me to stop touching it. Plus, this betrayal thing is getting old; Didn’t that guy in the office at Bethesda notice all the quests hinge on a traitor? “Another betrayal? They’ll never expect it a third time!”

Other than that, there’s only really the Bard’s College which does offer some light-heartedness, if you’re mischievous enough. The Head Bard asks you to search out an old parchment detailing a historical moment so he can create a story for the amusement of our Jarl but elements are missing; he asks you to help fill the blanks from knowledge gained during the adventure, and you can have some fun messing with the lines then watch him recite it for the Jarl. Well, not really, it’s another missed opportunity to inject some fun into the misery. Plus, the whole reason we doing this is to convince the Jarl to have a fete (put on by the Companions?) – her husband died so she’s not in the mood to judge the best marrow or whatever. Could Skyrim be any bleaker? Skyrim is just not fun. I’m going home.

Much like Oblivion, where I had to gain the pleasure of a city’s ruler to buy property, in Skyrim I need to curry favour with the Jarls. Helping locals will gain you their trust and a house you’ll forget you had; Rescuing a woman’s daughter from cannibals, investigating a ghost, they are more entertaining and original and like Morrowind, I start to avoid the main quest in favour of tracking down the random quests – At one point I joined in a drinking game and woke up with no memory and a Giant’s toe in my pocket, in what became a fantasy version of The Hangover. Swearing to never drink mead again, I go find me some dragons.

There’s no way to criticise dragon battles, but I’ll give it a go; Once you reach a certain point, like Oblivion’s Kvatch, dragons randomly appear and it’s great to trudge along and see one in the distance circling. It’s also a terrifying moment when you walk past a ruin and admire the giant dragon statue curled up on it – that’s not a statue is it. They also appear around the smaller villages when you fast travel in. You will die a lot but it is one of the most exhilarating experiences. Trying to avoid the shouts, the mouth, the claws, the wings, the tail, not to mention the sheer size of the things. It’s an epic encounter, terrifying when you hear one let alone see one. Think of the opportunities dragons present; finding a town now abandoned and you have to drive the dragon away to let it be repopulated, coming across a line of refugees and deciding if you’ll walk in the opposite direction to chase away the dragon that decimated their village, or one attacks and you’re forced to abandon the village or camp because you can’t beat it, swearing to return one day and avenge your people; see Dragons decimate areas, come across a burning field and get nervous knowing that means a dragon is about. But nothing remotely close to that happens. GTA SA managed to have ‘hoods under attack, why can’t dragons attack the villages and inns we find, give us a connection, a reason to charge into a clearly one-sided battle? Dragon appearances and behaviors are so heavily scripted that after a while you’re fighting on auto-pilot in pre-set circumstances. You never find one on the ground for example; imagine blundering into one feeding on a mammoth like you’re out for a swim and see a Shark Fin; you take off running, the adrenaline, the scare as you run screaming into a wood and watch it smash through trees, circling around, you trapped, looking for a way out or to face it – of course, a dragon could burn down a wood. Can’t it? No. They can’t even dragon properly; breathing fire on a wooden hut should do more damage than none. They just appear, act like a mini-boss and that’s that. This is the world-ending threat? Once I walked under one and into a shop, where the shopkeeper acts like nothing’s going on either then I left, because it doesn’t really matter what it does. Good games made you launch into battle even when you knew you’ll likely fail because you want to, or need to, but in Skyrim even a Dragon is nothing to Shout about.

Turns out when you do a Dragon Shout, the most anticipated part of Skyrim, it’s literally a magic yell, a kind of taunt between dragons. Being incinerated is both literally and figuratively a burn. I unlock shouts by finding dragon language on walls. I do this on my own; how the hell did I just pronounce that squiggle?! What am I, Prince? I may be the ‘Dragonborn’, but surely I at least need some language lessons. Most shouts are just XXL spells like fire, ice and so on; Shout should be a game-changer but it’s a huge let down. I can only power them up by discovering new wall-words which turns Shouts into a driver for exploring the same dingy dungeons (Zombies and Spiders, yay) for more words. Most of the shouts are too random or unhelpful anyway; Causing a thunderstorm was cool, until lightning killed the horse I was sitting on and what does a 100-foot long Dragon want with a shout that makes lower-level animals cower? Once fully charged they do some damage and the one that sends things flying is fun (everyone uses it on Ulfric’s dinner table) but they should be more than super-powered spells, and that they barely stagger Dragons is the biggest tell-tale that Shout wasn’t really thought through. They should be like the force in Jedi Outcast; so effective, so powerful that’s all you use – yet it’s a one shout then a recharge? Waste of time. Maybe it’s my accent.

Suppose we’d best go find out why Dragons returned and what this Dragonborn nickname’s about. Via the bunch of old guys in robes who can Dragonspeak, and the grumpy Blades, it turns out that dragon at the beginning had a name, Alduin; ‘The World Eater’ – Long ago, Alduin united the dragons and concluded he must destroy everything that’s not Dragon. Bit like the Nords really. He was eventually bested by the Blades who basically sent him into the future to give folks time to figure out how to stop him but their plan was to just wait until he returned it seems. While Alduin continues his prophecy, the old guys have their own; Someone who can pass an assault course of Shouts will be named Dragonborn, now prophesied to kill Alduin; What is it with Tamriel and their ‘someone else’ll do it’ prophecies? I like the idea that this generation of Blades has to face up to what the previous generation did but that’s not what it’s about unfortunately. Neither is the tension between the Old Guys being pro-Dragon and the Blades being anti-Dragon; they both want Alduin gone but that goes absolutely nowhere considering I’m heavily involved in both their plans. I just side with one at the end; I am the worst hero ever. Skyrim is really showing it’s age, even back then; it’s the most linear open world game I’ve ever played – Mass Effect 1 was 4 years before and had me agonising over what to do about Conrad; Skyrim constantly gives you black or white choices, ironic given how grey the rest of it is.

The other main quest, the ownership of Skyrim seems more interesting (that anything is more interesting than Dragons is a worry). The Imperials are portrayed as invaders and in theory, you’ve come to love Skyrim and want to protect it. You won’t. All that been happening is me wandering about taking over Imperial camps while Ulfric and his grumpy pal bitch about the invaders. I wonder if Ulfric is actually a coward, like this is part of the plot. It isn’t, he’s just woefully underdeveloped. How does Oblivion, some five years younger, run emotional rings around something as huge as Skyrim? This is the guy I’m supposed to follow, like Martin? No one does anything except me; in Oblivion everyone got involved. It would be nice to come across more action that’s not dependent on me triggering it, as if there really is progress, like there is a war on like they keep saying. War isn’t hell in Skyrim, I’m not sure it’s even in Skyrim. I’m gonna go see what the DLC has to offer, maybe there’s something there worth saving.

Dawnguard pits you against the single most hated characters in all of Tamriel; Vampires. A Vampire Lord is planning on using an Elder Scroll to blot out the sun. In Skyrim? I’ve not seen the sun yet. To be fair, Bethesda do seem to know how debilitating being a vampire is and Dawnguard turns into something quite tempting. The dragons are a bit beefier and you gain more areas and stuff to do in Skyrim, but do you really want more Skyrim? What about more Morrowind? Whoa.

Dragonborn takes place in Solstheim, off the Morrowind coast. I just saw a Netch! There’s a house made of Mushroom! Silt Strider! It’s good to be home. We’re looking for a guy calling himself First Dragonborn who wants to kill me, Incumbent Dragonborn. We hunt him through lairs like a Goth’s fever dream and there’s freaky creatures that would make a Morrowind local nervous – no one’s watching those things mate for ‘research’. It’s a throw-back romp that’s carried by good feelings for Morrowind and a plot that affects you rather than a bunch of racist NPCs and you gain a Shout that allows you to ride Dragons (Not as much fun as you think, this is Skyrim afterall). Also, why would a Dragon have a word for ‘ride another dragon’? Best ask those Morrowind research guys.

Hearthfire allows you to design and build your own home. It’s a nice way to delve into the world of Skyrim a little more and you can adopt some kids to move in once you’ve wooed a local to be the stay-at-home parent (Everyone available for love seems to be both gender and species neutral – they may be racist but love conquers all). They bake while the kids pester you and you can hire a steward, bard and a hayride driver – there’s other homely distractions like tending crops or beehives, go farming or fishing. It’s one of the very few elements of Skyrim that really pin you to the world and give you a reason to go dragon slaying or topple governments. Hearthfire shouldn’t have been a DLC it should have been the tutorial; a home you want to protect – then you’d care about the world a little more.

Eventually the war and dragon quest-lines intersect. We need to use a place called Dragonreach to capture a dragon alive and reach Alduin. How do we do that? We all sit around a table. What? The various factions we’ve tangled with thus far; Imperial and Nords, the Blades and the Valmor, the Old Guys; they talk for hours about everyone’s grumbles and gripes until a ceasefire is agreed. It may be realistic but there’s dragons outside, how’s about we GET ON WITH IT. Shepard wouldn’t have stood for this, she/he would have made some pithy speech or clobbered someone, something decisive – All I do is sit quietly and occasionally get a ‘what does the dragonborn think?’ option. I dunno I wasn’t listening. I’m the Dragonborn, I’m tasked with killing the King of the Dragons yet I can’t bring a meeting to order? Dragons! No urgency, no panic? All this scene does is draw attention to the lack of impact both the war and the dragons have had on the world. And when we get Dragonreach, why the hell doesn’t the Worldeater have something to say about it? I just walk in and capture a dragon. Alduin must have guessed this course of action. With just a bit of rejigging and imagination, some guts, we’d have an epic, visceral, memorable Skyrim defining moment; Imagine an army of Dragons waiting outside Dragonreach? How amazing would that have been? In Oblivion, you had to assemble an army to fight a Great Oblivion Gate, it would have been brilliant to assemble troops of Nords and Imperials having helped resolve their differences, then launch an attack backed up by my guilds; Thieves, Assassins, Companion werewolves, Mages with their big ball, Bards playing sick riffs as we all ran at a load of Dragons. Braveheart it. If Mass Effect 3 can do it… It would have been awesomeness. Pull all the disparate threads together. The epicness, oh how cool would that have been, everyone doing it for Skyrim, inspired by me; a true hero. Anything but this, our ‘hero’ listening passively to a bunch of old white men bicker about politics. It’s like watching medieval Question Time.

And what of Alduin? Facing him is the culmination of everything we’ve worked towards – this guy made his home in the afterlife, he’s so pissed at humanity he hunts them even after they’ve died; I’m beginning to wish I’d died at the beginning, particularly when it degenerates into a roustabout with a few token shouts thrown in. And as added annoyance, I’m warned surviving dragons won’t take kindly to their king being offed – In other words there’s still dragons to fight. Literally nothing has changed.

So it’s back to the real world to bring the soap-opera war to a close. Ulfric becomes King Coward and the Imperials are ousted. But, some will stick around less than pleased about their General being offed. Sounds familiar. Ulfric does nothing kingly, nothing heroic or even underhanded; I at least expected him to thank me then banish me, make it bitter-sweet what with me not being a Nord and all. No. Disgusted, I don’t even bother sticking around for his victory speech.

So Talos is free to be worshiped again but I’m not sure he’d want to be worshiped by this lot. I know I don’t; if I could, I would have joined Alduin’s faction and eaten this world myself. Even the Valmor are still knocking about. Nothing changed and that’s infuriating after some fifty hours spent in this hellhole. There’s one final mission; the Blades are banging on about a surviving dragon they demand I kill. It’s true, we did meet a Big Friendly Dragon (yet more missed opportunities) but I know Skyrim now; it’s taken the safe option every time and killing BFD will make no difference, plus he was the only interesting thing in the game – I hoped BFD would suggest I kill the Blades to protect him (My preferred option) but he doesn’t so Skyrim just … stops.

Skyrim is incredibly involving, deep and detailed. It’s huge. Insanely huge, overwhelming huge. It is an incredible achievement but just not really fun; it’s hard to muster the energy to keep wandering the misty, grey landscape and want to make it a better place, help the locals, adventure the way you did in Morrowind or Oblivion. The level of detail, of RPG opportunity is off the charts – building your home, your weapons, armour, even relationships but the broad strokes; dragons and war are frustratingly low impact and almost every place you investigate is the same as the last one. One location, a deep cave beneath a Dwemer ruin is bigger than most DLCs; a thing of beauty lit by bioluminescent mushrooms, I must have spent three hours just in that cave – it even had it’s own mini-missions; that’s amazing. But Skyrim is too big to maintain that level of wonderment; it’s so vast it levels out, flatlines

As I head for the Steam departures lounge, I reflect on the time it took to rinse The Elder Scrolls Morrowind, Oblivion and Skyrim; there is no richer franchise in gaming and I’ve barely touched on my experiences. During Morrowind, I was constantly frustrated by the lack of drive until I realised how freeing it was – I truly lived a fantasy life; I didn’t have to take on every mission, join every guild, I overwhelmed myself by meddling in everything. Oblivion is an experience; you get involved and alongside characters you care about, in a world you want to see put right, you reach an ending that makes you sit back and say ‘I did it’.

what did I doSkyrim though. There’s no doubting it’s a rich, interesting world. But the core of the Elder Scrolls is getting dull; as the games get bigger, the missions get smaller; Keeping guilds so linear and segmented, a main mission that doesn’t have an impact, all set in a world that doesn’t change – RPG doesn’t work like that anymore. Fallout 3, Far Cry 3, Mass Effect 2; they all arrived before Skyrim and all featured side-quests and plots that got tangled up, had moments you can’t take back. Skyrim refuses to change; it starts out as a battered, bitter world and ends the same – you’re left asking ? Skyrim is safe, and that’s no way to adventure.

The Real Elder Scrolls Adventurers

Morrowind the game is old, making Morrowind the world hard to disappear into. It’s quaint, but clunky. I wondered why folks love Morrowind enough to rebuild it for free.

TESRenewal ProjectI soon found out. The ‘s Morroblivion breathes life into something that was never struggling for breath, just a modern outlet. Every detail is there in a clean, astonishingly committed recreation. There’s some concessions but it’s a beautiful reproduction and a pleasure to get lost yet again. That they’re now committed to modding it into Skyrim’s engine means as long as there’s TES there’ll be a new Morrowind and I can’t wait to replay Morrowind every time Bethesda releases a new TES.

Finally, my trip could not have been made possible without the TES equivalent of the Lonely Planet; Unofficial Elder Scrolls Project – An independent site established in 1995, UESP details every aspect of Elder Scrolls. If it’s in the game it’s on this site, all 50 thousand pages of it – so far. That’s a testament not to the sheer scale of Bethesda’s world but the fans that keep it alive. I would not have survived Tamriel without UESP.

Developer; Bethesda Game Studios | Publisher; Bethesda Softworks

Morrowind 2002

Oblivion 2006

Skyrim 2011

platforms; win | xbox 360 | PS3

Morrowind | Oblivion | Skyrim – Pt1

A SECOND WIND special REVIEW

Morrowind, Oblivion & Skyrim – Pt1

In this, the first of a two part special, FBT decides to take a Gap Year in Tamriel. Will he survive the Cliff Racers? Take an Arrow to the knee? Or just doss about getting lost and forget what he’s doing? Let’s find out. *spoilers*

I felt it was time for a holiday. But not some all-inclusive linear break, I wanted to travel my own path, my own adventure on my own terms, see what the world was all about. The world of Tamriel, land of The Elder Scrolls; the gamer’s equivalent of Tolkien. Like a mashup between Greek and Geek Mythology, TES is fantasy in digital form; Sword and Sorcery, Chose Your Own Adventure, Dungeons & Dragons, those hokey 80s fantasy videos that didn’t live up to the scantily clad front cover; it’s all here. Morrowind, Oblivion and Skyrim were my destinations. Shouldn’t take long.

My trip began like any other – I wake next to a bare-chested man and get thrown off a cruise ship. I’m a criminal mysteriously set free, here at a small fishing village in Morrowind. It had been ten years since I’d visited Morrowind and only finished it once. This was where my TES love began – Wandering around the tiny seaside village, I wondered why I hadn’t returned more often; it looks great, otherworldly. A little aged but there’s an exciting, mysterious sense to the place. I’m itching to explore, sit on the beach at sunset and get a henna tattoo. As is always the case with an RPG, my first order of business was to avoid all orders of business. I decided to stick to the coast and see how far I could get. Not far, it turned out.

Morrowind is both bleak and rich. Even though it was released in 2002 and feels it, Morrowind is still engrossing. There’s a lot of nothingness but it feels unexplored rather than empty with a nice eerie feel. I encounter the loveable Netch and the infamous Cliff-racers, just a few of the truly fantasy-inspired creatures that kill me as I ramble; and the places you explore; castles, keeps, mines, foreboding crypts and caves, imposing gothic shrines, Aztec-style buildings, hidden doors in tree roots, marshes and swamplands filled with more creatures that kill me. Meanwhile the citizens of Morrowind have made this land homely; giant mushrooms and trees hollowed out into towns, villages on stilts with rickety bridges, campsites; they all feel right in this environment. Vivec, the centre of Morrowind is a huge town made up of enclosed buildings over a lake while Ald’ruhn is centred on a huge hollowed out crab carapace. But all of that is way ahead of me; a quick look at the map shows I’d barely moved a pixel. This was going to be a long trip. A lack of optional fast travel means walking. Walking, fighting a cliff racer, walking, fighting another cliff racer. But there’s always something along the way, a distraction, a thing to check out, a a cliff-racer. It’s impossible to walk in a straight line. Partly because within moments I’ve collected enough junk to slow my walk to a crawl. It’s then that I realise the lack of fast travel means weight management, a sturdy silver sword and lockpicks aplenty. And potions. Good armour. Magic spells. None of which I have. I’m underprepared and overwhelmed. I drag my over-encumbered self back to town catching diseases from Mud Crabs and pecked by cliff-racers all the way; Morrowind isn’t for the flashpackers.

Fighting in Morrowind, be it with folks or creatures is something of a crapshoot. A kind of turn-based roustabout, you flail at your opponent and mostly miss. But you have a lot of choice to miss with; big swords, little swords, daggers, spears, long and short bows, crossbows, throwing stars, plus magic. Spells that lob fire, ice and defensive options like invisibility and resistance make life in the fantasy bush much easier. Morrowind gives you as much freedom as it can for you to become the mighty hero you dreamed of and dress like one too. Armour, magical cloaks, masks, hats, gloves, all interchangeable. And what’s under the clothes is just as important; character creation includes male or female from 10 different races with 3 skill disciplines across 21 classes – or build your own.

So, back where I started, what the hell am I doing here? How do I get involved? Reaching one of the bigger towns without walking means pre-set fast travel, via a Mages Guild (if a member), boats or one of the unnerving Silt Striders; huge aphid-type creatures which have had their innards scooped out to allow you to sit inside while the driver squeezes its brain to make it walk about. Animal cruelty doesn’t seem to be an issue in Morrowind. Neither is slavery. It’s legal in Morrowind, although opinion on the practice is divided and I quickly join a mini game around rescuing slaves. It’s an odd subplot that doesn’t go anywhere; aside from being recognised as a friend to slaves nothing really comes of it. It’s not a subject you just leave unresolved – especially if your character is the same type as is often enslaved.

So I finally reach Balmora, a more upmarket town to the one I just left then staggered back to. I find my Air BnB booking and meet the landlord, another shirtless chap who offers to let me share his single bed. He explains I was freed on the Emperor’s orders and sets me off running errands for him. Not sure this is exactly what the emperor had in mind, but okay. He also suggests I get in with the locals and soon enough, I’ve fallen in with the Thieves Guild. I also join the Mage’s guild, Fighter’s guild, Imperial’s Legion and Cult, the Temple and … think that’s it. In all cases, joining them basically requires me to find, fetch or kill something. The Thieves guild has a great side-mission where you restart legendary Robin Hood types the Bal Molagmer, while the Fighter’s guild missions reveal themselves in an interesting way; they’ve fallen under the influence of a mafia (the Camonna Tong) and want to muscle in on the Thieves’. Although it seems you’ll have to take a side, it doesn’t really go anywhere; having joined both it would have been great to cleanse and team them up to fight the C.Tong but it just kind of fizzles out. Most of the guild quests do this, you reach ‘no more missions for you’ and the leader retires and promotes you or you kill them and promote yourself.

Talking of getting away with murder, I track down and join the Morag Tong, basically official assassins. This should make for interesting missions, but as a Tong you’re above the law meaning assassination eventually becomes a bit … dull. Hump over here, kill this person, show your writ of execution and quest complete. I’m getting my first inkling of why I struggled to finish Morrowind. It takes a lot to stay enthusiastic; unlike other RPGs with big, dramatic missions to keep you moving or preparing, if the quest doesn’t run out of steam I do. If it’s not the sheer distance it’s what I have to do when I get there – one mission has me finding some mud. There’s some lovely little random missions though, like finding a woman on the road who has been mugged only to fall in love with the mugger. Guess I’ll track him down for you then love? I come across a naked barbarian who was tricked out of his clothes by a witch, a guy stuck in a river cos someone stole his trousers and find two bachelors who were watching animals mate ‘for research’. Can I get the doggers to safety without disturbing the rutting monsters? Don’t see that in your everyday RPG game. Morrowind was sold on the fact I could ignore missions if I wanted to but with nothing to drive you forward it takes real commitment to finish when no one else seems to want you to. What am I doing again? Oh yes, the diary will remind me.

The diary. Oh God. Every comment is recorded in it, and it becomes impossible to keep track of what’s going on. The DLCs revamped it but it’s still like listening to someone describe a dream. With no mission marker, my first playthrough I kept a real diary noting locations and missions so I could figure out what was going on. Morrowind is not for those who dip in an out. Diary entries like ‘maybe someone in Balmora knows more’ abound. There’s 120-plus folks in Balmora. I can’t even remember what I’m asking around about. There’s over 2,800 people across the game, and you can talk to all of them! Talking to people means clicking through dozens of dialogue options, some of which will reveal more topics. Soon you’re button mashing through chat like a sword battle.

So after many chores for my shirtless landlord, he admits he’s one of the ‘Blades’, a secret group of the Emperor’s spies and protectors and explains the Emperor freed me because I might be the ‘Nerevarine’ – a reincarnation of a past hero who will return and defeat Dagoth Ur, an immortal nasty who intends to destroy Tamriel. Epic. Well, epic amount of missioning and walking, and epic amount of indifference; Ur is going to lay waste to the land and no one seems to care, no one’s panicking. The only real visual reminder is an ‘blight storm’ that appears randomly and the occasional ash creature that escapes from the mountain Ur is dwelling in – trapped behind a wall of magic, further disconnecting me from the drama.

I find myself drawn to the DLCs, just for a change of pace. The first, Tribunal is set after the main mission within Mournhold, a walled city self-contained from the main game. Tribunal attempts to continue the story, to examine the ramifications of my actions –if I ever complete them– its brave but isn’t strong enough; why not have it unfold in Vivec, prolong the game naturally (Can’t believe I’m suggesting that) in the world I’m connected to? Why here in a self-contained village? It’s just not interesting, and while there’s upwards of 40 quests including some great side missions like helping a woman meet the man of her dreams, replacing an actor in a street theatre, it’s not worth the effort beyond scamming some slightly better weaponry. Back to the main mission. I can do this. After another 30 or so quests, I’ve been recognised as the Nerevarine and I get to build my own mini-town where I convince settlers to join my commune, although I have to wait weeks to see it built. I miss modern RPG games where I do a mission, get back and the quest-giver already knows and has a new mission lined up. While the builders fanny about I escape to Solstheim, the setting for the second DLC, Bloodmoon. Here no one cares I’m the Nerevarine, they’re more concerned about folks turning into wolves. This is more like it. Solstheim is a tiny snow-capped island and after a few fairly typical missions, I get turned into a werewolf and can play as one whenever it’s nighttime. It’s fun for a while, then a bit of a pain; not as painful as becoming a vampire but still. Problem is, due to a random bug the mission path gets broken and I never resolve it. Bethesda are good at two things – Creating huge RPG games and filling them with bugs. Given their game’s sheer scale and the intricate rules and paths it’s inevitable but frustrating. I’m completely stuck and so it’s back to an earlier pre-Bloodmoon save. My commune is back to just scaffolding. But, Bloodmoon does distil much of Morrowind into a leaner experience. And you get to be a werewolf.

So back where I started I push on. My character is someone to be reckoned with, the map looks suitability stomped on and I realise I’ve become an adventurer, I’m living in this world and I’m curiously involved in it, enjoying the wandering and discovering. I even just talk to folks to see if they have any new gossip. I’m a local. Now I feel Morrowind’s leisurely pace is refreshing; I’ve carved a place in the world and enjoy just setting off, looking for adventure, having a great time just lost and finishing up side-quests as I go rather than focused on them. Eventually though, I save the day and to be honest, I’ve fought mud crabs more fearsome. Plus, I walk out a hero and everyone’s carrying on as if nothing happened; at best I get dialogue options like ‘Ur is defeated! Morrowind is free. Did you pick up my shirt?’

As I leave my house in Balmora for the last time (I say my house; with the exception of your commune you can’t own houses so I murdered a shopkeeper and lived with his corpse – you really can do anything in Morrowind), I look around at the piles of junk and treasure I accumulated and feel a twinge of sadness to be leaving. Rather than pull you in with drama and panic, Morrowind’s strength is you make it what it is and I made it great. Eventually. It’s a game you have to get not a game that gets you. I look at the horizon, listen to the forlorn call of the Strider, watch folks milling about. You know, I never did pick up that shirt. I start walking.

So, having decimated the local cliff racer population, it was time for this tourist to move on. I was being called to a more vibrant, happening part of the world, soak up what it means to be a citizen of Tamriel. I was going to Cyrodiil; aka Oblivion.

I wake up in jail where I’m visited by none other than the emperor, who says I’m the person from his dreams. Oh-ho. It transpires he’s only interested in an escape route via my cell. The Emperor’s under attack from a secret sect intent on bringing Mehrunes Dagon, a Daedra prince into our realm and he explains this was all foretold in his vision, including my involvement; I believe him because he’s got Patrick Stewart’s voice. During our escape, he explains Oblivion -where Mehrunes lives- and Tamriel are kept separate by Dragonfire which stays lit while an ancestor of Talos, such as himself is on the throne. Then Patrick gets murdered. I’m sorry! I was distracted by his voice. But, he had a secret illegitimate son just for this eventuality (that old excuse; ‘Queenie, babes, it’s not what it looks like, I had a vision and it said me and the maid must …’), so it’s on me to find this last heir and restore him to the throne before Mehrunes makes his entrance. So off I go, and stop dead. Wow, Cyrodiil looks a lot different to Morrowind. It’s rich and warm; grass, trees, very unlike Morrowind’s desolation and dug-in tone. Even the mud crabs are dainty compared to the yobs marauding about in Morrowind. Learning nothing from my early ramble into Morrowind’s wastes, I head off in any random direction.

After only a short period of time wandering along a gorgeous coastline, skipping over mud crabs and running shrieking from flappy Imps, I feel myself drawn to finding the Emperor’s son. Patrick and I only spent a relatively short tutorial of time together, but his assassination, the promise I made and the surviving guard’s reaction to the loss were compelling. I want to see where this story goes. It felt immediately big in comparison to Morrowind’s slow-burn. I make a bee-line for the mission marker (Mission marker! Thank Talos) and try and fail to not get distracted along the way.

Oblivion does look great, but a little more accessible, relatable, commercial than Morrowind. The creatures you encounter are more recognisable; gone are the Cliff Racers, there’s no Nix-Hounds or Guar, the Silt Striders are no more. Instead we have wolves and bear while scampering about are deer and sheep but there’s some fantasy still; in the woods, watch out for the (unnervingly attractive) Spriggan, a kind of half woman, half tree thing that can summon bears while the rest are fairly seen-it-before; goblins and ogres, minotaurs and the ruins have their ghosts and skeletons. Oblivion just feels more mainstream than geekdream. We’re running about in the Yorkshire Dales and the towns look more Middle England than Middle Earth, but I don’t harbour that feeling of sell-out for long. It makes sense that the Imperial city area would be more civilised and colonised. Towns have been built rather than hollowed out and they have identities; Bravil is all muddy roads and wooden lob-sided huts, a fishing town on hard times while the port of Anvil is that bit richer, reflected in the grand buildings and the inhabitants. We stumble into little farms and villages, inns set by rivers and lakes; it’s idyllic but missing that grittiness of Morrowind, that cut from the land feel. I miss that horrible wail you’d hear while exploring crypts; instead we get expansive ‘Ayleid’ Ruins. Gentrification for you.

Playing in Oblivion is easier too. Swinging swords is not the squabbles of Morrowind; blocking is now an action rather than luck and landing hits is easier as is spell casting. There’s a great selection of weapons too, if pared down from Morrowind’s armoury but there’s a ton of magic spells to have fun with. The character’s wardrobe has been slimmed down too – for example you can’t layer; who goes adventuring without layering? It’s not that impactful, it just feels more restrictive that Morrowind, which insisted you have complete control – Oblivion is a tighter, more focused game; exactly what I complained was missing from Morrowind, yet here I am missing that freedom. Much like Morrowind you start off as a ruffian and just hack and cast until I’ve levelled-up to a more refined, specialist style; it’s just more Oblivion’s style than mine. Interaction with NCPs is a huge step forward from Morrowind’s endless text adventures though, although you can’t insult folks into attacking. I miss that.

There’s not much else I miss from Morrowind now I’m into it; we have, bless Talos, a quest diary that makes sense and a fast-travel menu. After a while though, the map reveals how little I explore when I can fast travel about. I rarely plan my quest the way I would in Morrowind; study the map, ask around, prepare, then set out and get distracted. I miss the Morrowind shuffle, limping into town triumphant, weighed down with goodies. Nothing stopping me of course – Oblivion has just exposed I’m a bit of a lazy adventurer.

Trading in Oblivion is roughly the same as in Morrowind, getting a trader to like you will mean better prices, but over-play it and you’ll piss them off. Most traders won’t accept stolen goods (How’d you know I stole that apple?) and will only buy items that reflect their wares. So trying to sell a sword to a seamstress is a no-go. This does mean you end up browsing the entire Imperial city shopping mall or find a friendly Thieves’ guild fence to take everything off your hands.

Continuing to ignore the main quest I join the Thieves’, Fighter’s and Mage’s Guilds. The Imperials can’t be joined this time nor can the Morag Tong; instead, there’s the more evil splinter group, The Dark Brotherhood; entry is via murdering someone. This is harder than it seems. Exactly how the guards see you commit crimes I’ll never know. I heard ‘Stop! You’ve broken the law!’ so many times I started looking for CCTV; sometimes I was wanted and had no idea what I’d done. Accepting punishment mean losing all your ill-gotten gains and costs XP so your best bet is join the Thieves who can bribe the guards. Eventually I’m in the Brotherhood though, and unlike the Tong, this time there’s no writs of execution. We’re strictly murdering for profit. Planning and ‘executing’ the murders is mostly left up to me, but others in the clan offer suggestions on how to go about it. I shouldn’t really enjoy it this much but its great planning and getting away with murder and as the missions’ progress, they don’t just get harder to pull off but something really sinister begins to emerge within the Brotherhood. Plus I get ‘shadowmere’, a jet black horse with red eyes. You can ride horses in Oblivion although even if you own the horse they tend to wander. Sometimes they pop up later, other times they’re gone for good. At one point I discovered a unicorn and managed to ride that before losing it. Still, I was briefly the most fabulous looking fighter in all of Cyrodiil. Later I needed the unicorn for a mission and it was still missing. Worth it though, so fabulous.

The Fighter’s guild missions are great; varied and centre around rivals The Blackwood Company. The Thieves’ guild takes a while to get going but the last mission is a great heist; the final prize the biggest thief of all though. There’s no Bal Molagmer quests which is a shame, I would have liked to have seen them re-emerge after Morrowind. The Mages guild mission turns into a great mini-war that could have been expanded even more; the arch mage’s edict that necromancy is to be purged triggers a fight for supremacy between mages and necromancers. But before I can get in the middle of it I have to go around, Morrowind style and get the buy-in from every Mage’s Hall. Unlike Morrowind’s ‘find me some mushrooms’, those are interesting – One standout is adopt a clan of Scamps and find them a new home. You often find Mages and Necromancers having fights and the end is pretty dark.

Quest time

Another sort of mini quest is the Daedric shrines. Dotted around the wilderness you’ll come across various NCPs praying to statutes of the Daedra, supernatural sort-of Gods like Mehrunes who alter and manipulate mankind for their amusement. If you have the right offering you will be tasked with a challenge or quest and completing it will net you a Daedric weapon. Some are awesome, most will end up in your houses’ display cabinets but the missions are always an enjoyable distraction and a glimpse into the Daedric world – Gods have problems too.

There’s Arena battles, as Gladiator-style I fight for the entertainment of the crowd and the fame (and Oblivion’s most infamous character, Adoring Fan) and there’s great stumble-on missions to be found; Overall, there’s a lot less questing in Oblivion (some 280 to Morrowind’s 450+ quests) but there’s rarely a dud – and then there’s Oblivion’s famous DLC.

If you are GOTY’ing, you have the infamous horse armour (I couldn’t armour the unicorn which would have been really fabulous). It was a rip-off, no matter what Bethesda claim was their intention and shamefully, publishers didn’t take the public reaction to heart and continued hawking rip-off filler; Horse Armour will always be the meme for crappy DLC. Thankfully though, the rest of Oblivion’s DLC is mostly top notch. Mostly.

Oblivion’s main DLC, Shivering Isles takes place elsewhere, and like Morrowind’s Tribunal it’s a misstep to remove me from the world I just spent an age defending, and it plays as disjointed as it sounds; northern Mania is identical to southern Dementia but one is vibrant and insane, the other dark and oppressive. You’re tasked by the ruler of this Daedric land, the Madgod Sheogorath to stop the Greymarch; an entity which destroys everything in his kingdom in an endless Reaper-like cycle. Shivering is a hard place to get into, let alone save; it’s disorientating and the quests are abstract; while some elements are startling, its a change of pace the main game didn’t need. The weaponry is nice though, it’s worth jumping in long enough to tool up and get an edge back in the real world.

Conversely, the much smaller Knights of the Nine could have been a lot bigger. A really fun mission, lots of fighting and exploring and general derring-do as you rebuild the Order of the Knights, culminating in an amazing airborne fight miles above Cyrodiil. The result is armour you’ll likely never use, a location you can crash in and your own mini militia you can call on. They, and others dotted around the game can be brought along as companions but you’ll spend most of you time getting them out of trouble rather than them helping you out of it. There’s no kissy stuff with them either.

The second mini-DLC is a fairly linear story to recover Mehrunes’ Razor. This is worth attempting early on, as the razor -an enchanted dagger- is brutally strong for low-level characters as it has the chance to deliver one-hit kills. It’s a running fight through dungeons, mines and ruins to reach it and there’s a Morag Tong assassin knocking about too. If you find him, he’s wearing some of the best armour in the game. Alternatively, you can chance letting him continue on his mission and clear you a path – then try to track him down for that armour. There’s a good end mission too before you can claim that badass dagger.

Welcome

There’s some nice DLC options for the homemakers too. By far the best is Battlehorn Castle. Besting some leveled bandits gets you an entire castle to call your own, complete with a militia and staff including a smith and even a taxidermist who will stuff your kills. This would have felt better tied into Knights of the Nine but it’s still a great addition and within the mysterious walls you can uncover the fate of the original owner’s ancestors. Other locations include a mage’s tower where you can hone your skills and create beasties as companions, a vampire’s retreat complete with a butler who will find kills for you (and a way to cure vampirism), and a pirate’s cavern complete with a Goonies-style ship inside a caved-in cove; once claimed and fully upgraded (who knew Pirates were so house-proud) you’ll build a crew and send them off to loot. The only problem really is something of an embarrassment of riches. Why would I spent thousands on a Bravil hut when I have a castle? Fast travel means I don’t have to worry about finding a safe haven to dump all my crap as I go like Morrowind, so I only invest in city houses when I have more money than sense. To think in Morrowind I lived as a squatter with a dead body and spent hours shuttling items back and forth, and here I am frustrated I can’t recall which of my thirteen homes I left Mehrunes’ Razor in. There’s an Imperial Orrery you can help build too, which is pretty and gives some useful power-ups. So, having wandered around and gotten a feel for the world I’d better find that bastard of Patrick’s.

The bastard, or Martin as he prefers, is trapped in a town called Kvatch, under siege from the vanguard of Mehrunes’ invasion. This sequence is really well done; Kvatch looks sacked and ruined, the Daedra are dug in and getting them out isn’t easy. The fights are brutal and it’s hard to not get killed, or kill your fellow soldiers. In the midst of battle when you’re merrily swinging at Scamps, a comrade will decide the best place for him to stand is between your sword and the Scamp. All the other soldiers stop what they’re doing to yell ‘murder!’ – If I just wound them I get ‘you’ve broken the law!’ or at the very least, they scowl constantly. Fighting drains your strength as well as the soldiers patience, but leveling up allows you to extend strength as well as Health and Magic, along with adding to your other abilities. You can pick multiple disciplines, raising your ability to talk, lockpick etc., refining you hero.

So, the battlefield strewn with the bodies of my fallen comrades (sorry), I push on and reach an Oblivion Gate – Those gates are, as the name suggests, portals into Mehrunes’ world and a staging ground for his troops. The nightmarish world inside is filled with lava, nasties and horrible black gothic spires I fight my way up to reach a keystone known as the Sigil Stone. Removing it closes the gate and stops the invasion. I am now ‘the hero of Kvatch’ so hail the surviving and scowling guards.

My Best Friend

Kvatch saved, I find Martin and greet him by accidentally whacking him with my sword, mixing up my interact and murderer buttons. Luckily, for me at least, I only knocked the heir-apparent unconscious. Story-critical NPCs can’t be killed, although they’re rarely happy about it. That’s a change from Morrowind where everyone’s vulnerable and you can break the main mission with one swing but Martin gets up unharmed and afterwards, despite referring to me as his saviour and eventually his greatest friend, from that meeting onwards he always gave me a scowl that would make the guards proud.

Martin and I reach the safety of the Blades, who fill Martin in on his dad and his legacy and I’m made a Blade too so Martin tasks me, his friend/attempted murderer, with finding the items he needs to relight the Dragonfire and stop Mehrunes. Martin helps to keep the main mission focused; to begin, he seems convinced it’s hopeless but as I chip away at the tasks and we talk, he starts to gain a glimmer of hope. I hadn’t put a lot of thought into voice-acting before, but Martin, voiced brilliantly by Sean Bean really comes to life. You can hear the self-doubt that plagues him and understand the scale of what we’re attempting to achieve. Martin is essentially just the main-quest-quest-giver but somehow becomes more, along the lines of Mass Effect’s Anderson; he may not adventure with you but he’s a friend and returning to him battered and bloody is compelling because he appreciates what you’ve been through and apologises for sending you back into further danger. I like the bastard.

Another one

As Mehrunes gets a grip on the world, Oblivion Gates begin opening all over Cyrodiil and his denizens start to put in more appearances, from the Clannfears and unnervingly attractive Spider-women to the brutal Deadroth, a kind of Killer Croc thing. Leaving Gates unattended doesn’t do a great deal but closing it gets you a Sigil Stone which can be used to magic-up your weaponry and armour so they’re worth the slog. But that slog isn’t to be taken lightly; even the plants can injure you and inside the spires there’s traps, close-quarter fighting and general unpleasantness. But once free of Oblivion you’ll be proudly if exhaustedly staring at the ruined gate with your newly enchanted weapon, a ton of loot, a fame point (raising the disposition of NPCs) and likely spot yet another gate in the distance. The Gates are a constant reminder that something wicked is this way coming. They scare the NCPs, as does the coming of Mehrunes; you hear talk about Oblivion, monsters coming from gates, friends lost at Kvatch; it feels ominous. NPCs are thankful if you closed a gate nearby and the decimated areas, ruined gates and gangs of hot spider-women (those legs, man) add a constant reminder that all is not good. I find myself pulled back to the main mission to see how far Martin has got in solving the puzzle.

Settled in, I realise Oblivion is an incredibly well-balanced game; You feel like you’re progressing, becoming a stronger character. The world is perfectly set out, you’re busy and at a loose-end, determined and lost in equal measure. People’s routines and habits are more life-like than Morrowind’s walking around in circles – they eat, sleep, have favourite spots and friends, go for walks, get into fights, you feel like the world is happening around you; It’s lacking the whimsical nature of Morrowind but instead feels grounded, real. You can still mix potions, sharpen weapons, generally live off-mission, but you feel like you’re neglecting things in Oblivion, rather than Morrowind’s ‘only if you want to’ attitude.

After some really top-notch missions to recover items and research, including a timed run through a Great Oblivion gate, the peoples of Cyrodiil create a statue in my honour – a statue! It’s a really nice touch after all my moaning about those Morrowind ingrates and I only realised because someone said I looked just like that statue. I went to check it out and there I am, in all my heroic glory. And all the crap I was carrying at the time. I look like a bag-lady. Damnit. The statue reflects your most powerful inventory items so if you’re particularly vain, dress for sculpturing not battle and leave everything else behind. I tried it a few times in just my underwear but never made it through. What an effigy that would have made.

Eventually, it’s up to me to clear a path for Martin while he claims his lineage and saves the day. Due to the relationship built between Martin and I (Grumpy-face aside), it doesn’t feel like a cheat to be the bridesmaid not the bride for the final battle – and what a bride I would have made, riding in on that Unicorn. It’s a scrambling, frantic fight to get Martin crowned and our focus is on banishing Mehrunes rather than killing him – we avoid a boss fight and it feels right; it’s never been about killing Mehrunes, only proving Martin is the rightful heir. I’m so involved it didn’t occur to me until after that Oblivion could have gone down a clichéd “He’s mortal in this world, kill him!” route and that really sets it apart, it’s a very brave move and pays off amazingly well.

Peace has been restored to Tamriel and what Martin and I have achieved feels real. Ironically though, Oblivion is a little empty after what we’ve accomplished. It’s undoubtedly involving, but after that main mission I can’t really find the will to carry on wandering; I’ve done enough. I take a tour around my houses, still don’t find Mehrunes’ Razor, get congratulated on saving the day and then call it a day. It’s time to pack up and travel north. I’m Skyrim-bound. I’ve always wanted to see a Dragon.

Check out Part Two of Previous Weapon’s Elder Scrolls special, as soon as FBT checks out of his backpacker hostel and stops posting photos of him and martin on Insta.

Quantum Break

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

Time may be going to end, but is there any more sand in the Remedy hourglass or has their experimental, multimedia thriller shown the once visionary company are now nothing more than the Michael Bay of gaming?

I’d like to think that by now, I know absolutely everything there is to know about time travel. I’ve seen all things Terminator, adore 12 Monkeys and I own the Back to the Future trilogy on VHS, DVD and on Blu-ray twice (one for upstairs, one for down). So when it comes to the subject, you’d have to find the nearest San Dimas Phone Booth and travel back to my birth to pull the wool over my eyes. While TV, movies and books have all had numerous stabs at the topic (some way worse than others – I’m looking at you Butterfly Effect) one question has always plagued me, why when time travel is the most popular sub-genre of science fiction has there not been a software developer bold enough to throw themselves feet first into the world of space/time manipulation? Sure, many games have flirted with the concept of time travel over the years but they’ve never really been able to capture the essence. It’s always been an afterthought. A comedic subplot. Games like ‘Day of the Tentacle’ purposely subverted time travel and ignored the minutiae in preference of being daft and throwaway. Others, like Bioshock Infinite, have explored it as a secondary twist. It has never been at the forefront of a major VG title until now as finally… in Remedy’s ‘Quantum Break’ we have a game willing to ask the question; What would happen if we distorted time as we know it?

I was impressed with the game years before it was released, when a tantalizing trailer was shown at E3 ’13. It showed Quantum Break as a fascinatingly unique action game, showcasing an impressive physics engine. It promised a fast paced-narrative that was tailored to the choices you made and I remembered reading a one-line review describing it as the bastard lovechild of ‘Heavy Rain’ and ‘Stranglehold’ – where cinematic storytelling and slow-motion action combine. I mean, it was the most anticipated game in decades! Despite the increased levels of excitement, I must admit, I wasn’t sure this game would be for me. Rarely do heavily publicized games live up to the hype. For that reason I waited a year, eventually waiting for the patches to be released, the price to drop and the irritating day-one pod-casters verdicts to be removed from memory. Treating it with a level of gaming equality, I soon learned that it’s so much more than all it had promised. Like it or not, it’s an incomparable experiment into multimedia gaming that thinks outside the sandbox and happily confines itself to a linear landscape to achieve it’s goal. It stays true to it’s Max Payne heritage whilst also proving itself to be a mature, standalone title in it’s own right.

While it doesn’t get off to the best of starts, kicking off in the most irritating of styles of cinematic storytelling – showing the very end of the game in a painful recap. Now, I’m a fan of non-linear narratives, but in gaming there’s nothing more irritating than knowing that eventually, I’m going to end up in custody speaking to an annoying woman who wants to know my inner most thoughts and secrets. Kind of takes any fear out of the countless situations I’m about to be thrust into – knowing that no matter what I do, I’m getting caught and that’s that. My other irritation of the intro is trying to work out who the hell Jack Joyce is and where you’ve seen him before… it took me around 3 Acts before I finally clicked he played the ice dude in the X-Men franchise. Anyway… There’s one moment of refreshment in the intro that actually filled me full of excitement. The first time we see Shawn Ashmore’s face close up, you realise the impressive capabilities of Remedy’s NorthLight engine. The facial recognition is astounding and by far the most realistic I’ve seen in a VG title. Rather than forcing itself to the forefront of the gameplay, like LA Noire’s then-famous MotionScan technology, and make you try to figure out the depth of the character’s sincerity, the facial expressions in Quantum Break only exist to compliment the gaming experience. They smartly and subtly add to the cinematic and multimedia experience that Remedy have aimed to achieve.

Moving on to the first ‘Act’ and we’re placed into that Half-life world of waiting, patiently preparing for the equilibrium to be distorted and a point set of no return. Walking around, scanning items of seeming insignificance to earn XP and a semblance of backstory while knowing that no matter what we do, all hell will ultimately break loose and we’ll be back in an inverted version of this world by the time the cutscene ends, the cigarette’s smoked and the kettle’s boiled. While this doesn’t disappoint, It’s exactly as you would expect. While games like Half-life got this perfect, QB struggles with the narrative to the point where you almost feel like you’re sitting through a timeshare presentation just to get the free gift at the end. In fact, that’s almost literally what you’re made you do at one point when your old pal Paul “Littlefinger” Serene calls you out of the blue, invites you to his building and makes you watch a full, unskippable presentation on his life-changing invention. Now it’s easy to be critical of Remedy, it’s their first foray into a serious story with a recognisable cast and while the opening level may begin painfully dull, delaying the inevitable actually adds something to the game. It establishes a tension between pro and antagonist that will force a rivalry throughout time. So I’ll happily let this minor inconvenience go for the sake of the greater gaming good.

Skipping forward, past a painful West Wing-style walk through the soulless, corporate corridors, we finally discover the time machine. It seems Serene needs your help to conduct his first ever experiment for reasons revealed later. Right now, I’m expecting a future Serene/Joyce to rock up and remind him to set his watch, but instead we’re treated to another familiar face. Joyce’s brother William appears and its part time Hobbit, full time irritator Dominic Monaghan. He arrives with some eerily prophetic warnings but in spite of them, the Time Travelling experiment goes both ahead and terribly awry. The machine has caused Serene to be thrust back in time and has caused a fracture which is slowly imploding everything around the “ground zero” in which we’re stood. As the world around us begins to spiral on a one-way trip to the destruction of time as we know it, explosions start and the screen begins to flare. However, we quickly notice something’s happened which we weren’t expecting – the noise has stopped. Time is slowing down (a-la Max Payne) and in places even freezing (a-la Zack Morris, Saved by the Bell). Okay… now it’s getting interesting – but not before we must be spoon fed that pressing up makes you go up, down makes you go down and trigger fires. At this point we’ve sat through a painful 12-hour install, 90-minutes of story set-up and a half dozen cut scenes and we’re all desperate just to get stuck into the gameplay. In no way do I neither want or need a painfully samey tutorial highlighting the basics of character movement and again I am made to wait a little longer before being thrown into the action that the trailer had so heavily promised.

As we play through the remainder of the opening Act, there’s a familiarity to the game. It handles like a generic 3PS and doesn’t have any real fluidity. It’s also an extremely linear level that gives you the illusion of choice while leading you exactly where it wants you to go. For instance, while trying to escape the campus you’re given a choice of 6 doors in a corridor to choose from – only drawback being 5 are locked and only one actually opens… you catch my drift. Time is slowing down around us, but that doesn’t lessen the haste. We must escape as quickly as we can before the whole building erupts. That said, the game doesn’t give you the sense of urgency it should, instead, it reminds you that the first level has 16 different collectibles and by blindly running away from it, you’re missing out. This isn’t an open world game where you can go back at a later date, miss collectibles and you’ll have no chance to return and pick them up – something profoundly irritating, particularly for achievement hunters and wannabe 100%-ers. What I did like was that the collectibles here are akin to ‘Fallout’ or ‘Half-life’, where we find ourselves scanning computers and reading random e-mails to discover pieces of a backstory jigsaw. It’s not spoon-fed, the onus is wholly on the player to unlock more of the story.

As we waste time trophy hunting before finally getting to the exit, we’re met with a game-defining moment, Serene shows up and kills your brother – who you weren’t particularly fond of anyway but are now understandably devastated at his death. Cue your new mission – to go back in time, stop Serene, save your brother and save the world. The problem with this plan is that we all know there’s no changing the past. This isn’t some wacky, ‘Hot Tub Time Machine’ style comedy where Joyce can go back with a sports almanac, get super-rich and re-invent Google, we know very early that this is a set in stone timeline and no-matter what you try to do, there’s always going to be an explanation as to why it’s impossible to achieve. Joyce’s reluctance to understand and accept this interpretation of time travel is actually quite a useful mechanic as it gives the narrative ample chance to lecture the gamer via the protagonist.

I have to say, it seems that Sam Lake and his team of writers have managed the time travel paradox incredibly well. The level of detail is equally as scientific as it is vague to make the gamer feel that it could be plausible without making them think too hard. In this age of gaming, you really have to make sure that you’re coherent in your storytelling and all elements of it must be perfect. There can’t be any flaws in your logic, there can’t be any mistakes in your theory and you must be aware that every action has a consequence. Assassins Creed got around this quite well with the theory that you’re playing memories so you could never affect the future with your actions in the past and if you tried, you’d just be disconnected from the Animus. However, as sequel after sequel was produced and the AC franchise got better, the plot just got more and more confusing. Particularly by the time we came to Black Flag with the whole John/Sage subplot boiling over into the real world. First playthrough, this went completely over my head and made me think, is this time travel? Is it re-incarnation? The reason I struggled to comprehend this was because it’s largely explained as re-incarnation within the present day stuff, which I tended to either skip or drift off to sleep while playing. I mean, who thought it would be a good idea to take me out of plundering the seven seas as a bad-ass pirate to instead wander round an empty office block, hacking computers to unlock concept art?! Anyway, you get my point and while Quantum Break didn’t exactly fall into the same trap, there’s a definite feeling that you’re running through the game with your shoelaces tied together, trying desperately not to trip up. While Lake & co. always manage to keep you on your feet, we only just cross the finish line without falling on our arse … just.

Once we finally end the first Act, we encounter our first episode. Great Scott! Something new and unseen in gaming. The gameplay Acts weave in and out of a 4-part live action miniseries that effectively exists to fill in the gaps between levels. Wondering what series you and the other half are going to sit and binge on Netflix next? Well, this certainly isn’t it as, unless your partner wants to sit and watch you play for 3 hours between episodes, it’s not strong enough to stand alone. It’s a failed experiment because the seasoned gamer who has only just got a taste of the action will want to keep playing and most won’t have the patience for a half-hour cut scene. While it’s well acted with a recognisable TV cast, It just makes me think the publishers really don’t know who they’re catering for. It’s almost as if it’s for a sub-category of media consumers and the more you watch and play, the more you feel like this is the result of a meeting room round-table gone horrible wrong – where blokes in suits are shouting words like “synergy”, “second screen” and “cross-platform” at a team of bewildered writers and interns, hoping they’ll deliver a profitable return for Q4. It’s a nice idea, but it feels like a tactic to prolong what’s essentially an 8-hour game into more than a weekend’s worth of play. It’s told entirely from the perspective of Monarch employees, meaning it’s almost Joyce-less and it has that under-budgeted feel you’d expect to see at 10pm on Syfy as the bridge between ‘Defiance’ and ‘Sharknado’. They are skippable, but be warned – if you do leap past them, prepare to complete the game very quickly.

The first game I can remember doing something like this was “Enter the Matrix”, when Jada Pinkett-Smith and co. signed on to do the cut scenes at the same time as they filmed ‘The Matrix Reloaded’. That game is probably the best comparison I can draw to Quantum Break, as it too weaved in and out of a live action story, had slow motion game mechanics with surprisingly stiff controls. Like ‘Enter the Matrix’, QB needs that sequel, it’s ‘Path of Neo’, to really straighten out the awkwardness we feel when playing the game. Given it’s (supposedly) an action-packed, story-driven hybrid of a 3PS meets hack-n-slash – I should love this game, however, I can’t help feeling I’m replaying ‘Watchdogs’ where the anticipation and expectation was too high to deliver against. The idea is good but the execution falls short of other games who have mastered similar and simple mechanics. In fact, I’d maybe go as far as saying that even ‘Max Payne 3’ did a better job on the bullet-time… okay, maybe that’s a bit too harsh… but it’s certainly not too dissimilar.

Every fight scene is an arena battle. An inescapable bowl or bubble where you must defeat all enemies to move forward to the next platform. At first we think, “this is a piece of cake – I’ll stop time and go and knock them out…hold my beer…” While that’s true for Act I, the rest of the game isn’t that easy and with the increase of each level there’s a counter introduced for your superpowers. Potentially the toughest of which are the ‘Stutter Soldiers’. Yep, Monarch has created suits to make certain bad guys immune to the time cracks and if that’s not bad enough, they’ve also armed them with an obscene amount of machine guns, grenades and a health bar of a mid-level boss. These soldiers can slow down time and move just as quickly as you so, if you’re not in focus, they can get close to you in the blink of an eye – meaning it essentially becomes a slow motion cat-and-mouse chase until you can get a clean shot on their packs and make them explode. It’s kind of an obvious move really, I mean, even Sonic the Hedgehog’s most feared enemy was a robot version of himself, but while I wasn’t expecting it to be easy, it just doesn’t feel very inventive.

As the game progresses, I do begin to really get sucked in. The story is immersive and the combat becomes increasingly more strategic. There’s ‘Tomb Raider’ style platform-puzzles to solve which uses Time in an inventive way, such as finding a broken elevator and rewinding time to when it was functional. There’s a few tough fight sequences too that made playing on a hard difficulty setting really good fun, I died a lot more than I was expecting and when it came to the end of Act choices – I felt like it really mattered. I deliberated over my actions a lot more than I would have done in other story-based thrillers, or in a Mass Effect. These choice junctions were nicely juxtaposed too – as you flipped to Serene to make the choice. There was no need to follow your moral compass, because you’re making the decisions as the bad guy, so hey – go nuts, kill people, what does it matter to Joyce? It also added a level of replay value as it affected the mini-series, making them more than just half hour cutscenes.

What I really like about the choice junctions are that they actually show you the consequences to the actions. So there’s no trickery into making you think you’re doing right by doing wrong. Each path is uniquely as beneficial as it is troublesome and it’s up to you on the flip side to make that choice. Very nicely done…

It was great being back in the ‘Max Payne’ style world too, albeit it with a non-noire, futuristic twist and, while it’s reluctance to follow it’s lineage would irritate most, it was a actually a welcome break from the fallen hero narrative we’re used to to. It was also good to go back to a very straightforward game which I could blitz through entirely in a weekend. The marketplace is flooded with 50hr sandbox games and it was a light relief to finish something definitively in a short space of time.

The game is fast paced in places, but falls short of hitting the magical 88mph mark that would have really set this game apart from others on the market and give it that instant replay value that so many actioners have. What saddens me most is that it was a really good attempt that just doesn’t quite hit the heights the hype promised. Well written, smart and visually stunning, no-one can deny that it’s undoubtedly enjoyable, but I get the feeling their experiment has failed and I doubt we’ll see another foray into this genre for the next 7-8 years. Those pesky suits will no-doubt be dismayed with the mediocre game sales which saw the high-budget title shoot straight into the £20 bargain bucket just 2 months after release. I’d expect less Quantum Break’s and more Alan Wake’s over the next decade as Remedy will no doubt look back to it’s steady, noire hand in the next few years.

In fact, Quantum Break stirs up the memory and the nostalgia of Alan Wake in two ways. Firstly, the Xbox One version gifts you Alan Wake as a backwards compatible 360 game as part of your purchase so you can dive in for another playthrough but also contains a number of hints references and Easter Eggs throughout the game that makes you long to play the catalogue. This wonderfully dissected analysis of the game’s plot on a chalkboard in one of the classrooms on campus shows how much fun the designers had in making this title – but also how much they must be longing to produce a sequel.

(Hmm… a new Alan Wake… perhaps a Blast from the Past of the original is in order…)

As we learn from Quantum Break, we can’t change the past but time certainly changes everything. I waited a year to play this as a second wind and I’m glad I did because I get the feeling that the real victory for this title will be how well it ages. Like Max Payne way back in ’01, Quantum Break could be a silent game changer. A memorable gaming anecdote or a pub quiz question about which title was the forerunner to the highest grossing game of all time. I’m sure other developers will take Remedy’s idea and push it further but say I’m wrong and they don’t, Quantum Break certainly has the potential to be the game that we’ll look back on with real fondness in 10 years’ time that’ll make you dust the cobwebs off the old, Xbox One and set aside an afternoon with a few beers and nostalgically revisit with a grin….a grin of a winner…

April 2016 | Developer Remedy Entertainment | Publisher Microsoft Studios

platforms Wins, XO

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