Now back to Goblins, and (more or less) to reality.
These days, I only play three or four games a year. Three really good games – played at length, and to my full enjoyment – is about my saturation point.
(This doesn’t include Mario-ish stuff, by the way, or most of the games from my childhood through which I can progress, now, more or less blindfolded [and with one hand tied behind my back]. Partly because those sorts of games don’t hold my attention like they used to, anyway.)
In Part 2 of this series, I spoke about why games with a character-generation element (games that allow you to change your character’s appearance) can have meaning beyond mere vanity. It never bothered me when I was younger, being stuck in the role of a Lara Croft, or the standard rugged-handsome late-teens-or-twenties white dude. But it does now, even in relatively reasonable circumstances. I’ll still play an above-and-beyond game like, say, Red Dead Redemption. I’m not totally lost to all reason. But past that I really have trouble caring.
You know my thoughts on Mass Effects 1& 2, so my looking forward to the third game goes without saying. I can’t wait. There will be tears.
And Skyrim. I haven’t been this excited about a game since I was 13 or 14, reading previews of Final Fantasy VII in Gamefan Magazine. Do you know how excited that is? Guys. I can’t even tell you. It is a feeling beyond language. It’s mass fucking hysteria, here. Maybe they’ll eventually release screenshots of some bedazzled swimsuit armour, and that will ground my expectations back to reality, but for now I’m just assuming, casually, that it’s going to be the best game (Marian-wise) ever, short of something I could magically design myself.
Speaking of armour, the quilted set above isn’t, of course, actually part of the game. But – all fantasy RPG developers take serious heed – quilted armour is THE BEST THING. You heard it from me first.
(Quilted canvas armour from the Eyewitness Medieval Life Book)