Oblivion - Part One

I thought I'd blog about my impressions of Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion in parts, as I went along. It seems sensible as when you start a game that boasts over 200 hours of game time you can't wait until the end to write about it.

Yep, 200 hours. And having played my first three hours I can well believe it has that much play in it. To begin with you get the RPG standard character selection process. Choose a race, a name, play with the features and proportions, choose a specialisation, choose a fucking big television... oh no, that was something else. Anyway, once you've created your bipedal Siberian Tiger (Khajiit) and named him Wim O'Way it's time to begin.

Starting off in a dank jail cell you're soon whisked into a plot of subterfuge and assasination, then left to wander your first dungeon facing rampaging rats and goblins galore. This introductory passage serves two purposes: firstly it familiarises you with the basic controls, combat combos and spellcasting; secondly it equips you with enough rusty armour and weaponry to give a whole village tetanus. The plot unwinds a little further, you're given your first quest, you pick your starsign (it turns out Cyrodiil, along with an abundance of the letter 'i' also has much more exciting astrology than your average fantasy realm: Wim's birth sign bestows him with Poison Touch for example, which is distinctly more useful than my own Virgoan 'logic',) and you open a small gate and emerge from the prison sewers into the open countryside, a free man (or cat, or lizard, or orc).


Now, given that the quest bestowed upon you is of fairly high importance, the land of Cyrodiil is altogether much too distracting. There are rivers to swim, fish to catch, deer to hunt, ruins to explore, houses to enter, locks to pick, guards to evade... or not. Oops.


Wim's first encounter with the long arm of the law, and his natural catlike reflexes and night vision, not to mention his feline predilection for taking things that are just lying around and running off with them have determined that he is going to become a professional thief. He has succesfully (after only two quickloads!) negotiated entry into the Thieves Guild (and stolen a 100GP flawless diamond from the house of the local representative as he chaired a meeting of prospective candidates, the irony of which wasn't lost on Wim. Hey, the guy didn't say we couldn't steal from other thieves, there were some rules which I didn't really listen to, but I'm pretty sure none of them forbade that.)

So, as I left Wim last night as he tossed fitfully in a stolen bedroll, in a stolen tent, in the grounds of a ruined castle (which he hasn't stolen, he can't carry that much, but he would if he could) he was dreaming not of the important quest given to him by the Emperor, but of finding a fence for the giant 'rock' in his backpack before the local guild leader realises it's gone.