This is just a small example of how awesome Skyrim is. A very small example.
Instead of shouting about how great Skyrim is, which should be obvious to every breathing, living being on Earth, I will proceed to recount my adventures in this fantasy game, including every fault and virtue it might have.
I start my adventure by not being able to move anything except my head. Which is okay, because there's a cutscene happening right before my eyes! My character is a prisoner aboard a wagon along with other fellow prisoners headed to Helgen. Among the prisoners is Ulfric Stormcloak, and by the sheer power of such a godly name, I feel deeply honored to be seated next to him. I really am.
After I admire the scenery and the other prisoners discuss something or other, we reach Helgen and are placed in some kind of a line, awaiting execution. One guy's head goes off - didn't expect that to happen, actually. Some very wise man decids to run away - in full view of dozens of soldiers armed to the teeth. Why didn't I think of that?
Soon, it's my turn. But instead of having my head chopped of right away, I get to decide which gender and race I am, what my name is and how I look like. The character customization is super fun, with lots of possibilities that would've made Oblivion cooler, e.g., dirt marks, scars, face-paint and anatomically correct faces.
Instead of shouting about how great Skyrim is, which should be obvious to every breathing, living being on Earth, I will proceed to recount my adventures in this fantasy game, including every fault and virtue it might have.
I start my adventure by not being able to move anything except my head. Which is okay, because there's a cutscene happening right before my eyes! My character is a prisoner aboard a wagon along with other fellow prisoners headed to Helgen. Among the prisoners is Ulfric Stormcloak, and by the sheer power of such a godly name, I feel deeply honored to be seated next to him. I really am.
After I admire the scenery and the other prisoners discuss something or other, we reach Helgen and are placed in some kind of a line, awaiting execution. One guy's head goes off - didn't expect that to happen, actually. Some very wise man decids to run away - in full view of dozens of soldiers armed to the teeth. Why didn't I think of that?
Soon, it's my turn. But instead of having my head chopped of right away, I get to decide which gender and race I am, what my name is and how I look like. The character customization is super fun, with lots of possibilities that would've made Oblivion cooler, e.g., dirt marks, scars, face-paint and anatomically correct faces.
I mean, come on, Oblivion! No one looks like this! Oh. Wait a sec, that's Jocelyn Wildenstein.
Skyrim, on the other hand, allows you to create the character of your dreams. Whether you're building a hot hunk or a sexy future-assassin, you'll find every button you'll need to achieve this. I, for one, chose to make a dangerous-looking Orc-woman (Orcess? She-Orc? whatever) who is destined to become a master in two-handed weapons, hand-to-hand combat, blacksmithing, heavy armor and cooking. Rabbit legs, beware! When Demeter the Orc feels like having a tasty rabbit haunch, you'd better run for the hills! Unless she doesn't have a salt pile in her almost-bottomless satchel. In that case you're safe. For now.
While I'm having fun creating my Orc-warrior, I can't help but wonder what the Imperial soldier standing in front of me is thinking. 'Good God, where did that Imperial man go? Suddenly a fat Khajit man is standing in front of me. Did I arrest someone and let a prisoner escape? They won't like that at headquarters. They'll proba- ORC WHAT?! WHAT?! ORC?! THE HELL WHAT?!' [pause] 'Did I just black out? What am I? Where am I? Ah, hello there, prisoner! You're name's Demeter? Hm, you're not on the list, but you can go right on ahead and get your head chopped off. Next!
As you might have guessed, my character is up next on the chopping-block. In agonizing and anxious anticipation I prepare for the executioner to give me the big chop. Sadly, it's not a pork chop.
Suddenly, in a wild flurry, a dragon swoops down! Naturally, I make my escape, while everyone around me is crapping their pants. After following one guy through the burning town of Helgen, I have a choice to make: follow an Imperial soldier or follow a Stormcloak. NNGH, CHOICES! The first time I played, I went with the Stormcloaks. C'mon, they're call themselves STORMCLOAKS. The only name that could beat that would be THUNDERNUKEFIGHTERS.
sigh.
The second time playing Skyrim, I chose the Imperial path. Why? Because I had played as a Stormcloak already. Duh.
After following my temporary companion, learning how to pick locks and to fight, and picking up all sorts of potions, clothes, weapons and baskets, I head for Riverwood, a quaint little town. There, I sell some stuff, meet some nice peeps and learn how to blacksmith and how to chop wood in more ways than one: I undertake a quest that concerns a pretty, young lady who has two beaus after her. After choosing which one I want to help, I ruthlessly and amorally destroy any and every chance the opposing suitor might have had. I'M ON MY WAY TO BECOMING A HERO!
I complete some quests, get some guy's golden claw back, find a dragonstone, learn some words ( I guess I was illiterate before that) and continue to Whiterun. There, I take it easy for a bit. I sell some more junk of mine, buy a horse and jump around for no reason.
According to most guides, I was supposed to help some Companions members take down a Giant. I successfully avoid helping them each time I play Skyrim. HERO STATUS, HERE I COME!
While jumping around, I notice something intensely interesting.
While I'm having fun creating my Orc-warrior, I can't help but wonder what the Imperial soldier standing in front of me is thinking. 'Good God, where did that Imperial man go? Suddenly a fat Khajit man is standing in front of me. Did I arrest someone and let a prisoner escape? They won't like that at headquarters. They'll proba- ORC WHAT?! WHAT?! ORC?! THE HELL WHAT?!' [pause] 'Did I just black out? What am I? Where am I? Ah, hello there, prisoner! You're name's Demeter? Hm, you're not on the list, but you can go right on ahead and get your head chopped off. Next!
As you might have guessed, my character is up next on the chopping-block. In agonizing and anxious anticipation I prepare for the executioner to give me the big chop. Sadly, it's not a pork chop.
Suddenly, in a wild flurry, a dragon swoops down! Naturally, I make my escape, while everyone around me is crapping their pants. After following one guy through the burning town of Helgen, I have a choice to make: follow an Imperial soldier or follow a Stormcloak. NNGH, CHOICES! The first time I played, I went with the Stormcloaks. C'mon, they're call themselves STORMCLOAKS. The only name that could beat that would be THUNDERNUKEFIGHTERS.
sigh.
The second time playing Skyrim, I chose the Imperial path. Why? Because I had played as a Stormcloak already. Duh.
After following my temporary companion, learning how to pick locks and to fight, and picking up all sorts of potions, clothes, weapons and baskets, I head for Riverwood, a quaint little town. There, I sell some stuff, meet some nice peeps and learn how to blacksmith and how to chop wood in more ways than one: I undertake a quest that concerns a pretty, young lady who has two beaus after her. After choosing which one I want to help, I ruthlessly and amorally destroy any and every chance the opposing suitor might have had. I'M ON MY WAY TO BECOMING A HERO!
I complete some quests, get some guy's golden claw back, find a dragonstone, learn some words ( I guess I was illiterate before that) and continue to Whiterun. There, I take it easy for a bit. I sell some more junk of mine, buy a horse and jump around for no reason.
According to most guides, I was supposed to help some Companions members take down a Giant. I successfully avoid helping them each time I play Skyrim. HERO STATUS, HERE I COME!
While jumping around, I notice something intensely interesting.
That's my Orc, Demeter. She's standing under the ground.
Don't get me wrong - I love it when this happens. I'm a fan of cool glitches. And lucky for me, Skyrim is full of cool glitches. (I fall through the floor several times; sometimes I fall from one level to another. Talk about a convenient shortcut! My servant hates it when that happens, though)
I soon continue the main quest after talking to the Jarl What's-His-Name. I help his assistant by doing absolutely nothing, then I help his Housecarl (a sort of high-ranking bodyguard) by killing a dragon, after which I suck its soul out and spit out a piercing shriek that shakes the grounds. I'VE LEARNED HOW TO SHOUT! Man, I must have been destructive as a baby - I used to shout all the time.
As a reward for my learning how to shout at people and mammoths (seriously, who else would I shout at?), the Jarl bestows upon me the honorable title of Thane, which coincidentally nobody honors at all, and gives me my very own Housecarl, Lydia. I'm happy to find that her attitude is very similar to mine. BFs 4EVER!
The steward of Dragonreach (where this Jarl resides) tells me about the possibility of buying a house. Which I do. Then, I buy all available furniture, because I just so happen to be inexplicably dirty rich. I run into my new home, Breezehome, while Lydia sort of waddles after me. Preparing for my next adventure, I decorate my new house, fill the book shelves, food sacks and chests with all sorts of junk and jewelry, leave some weapons behind and press on with my adventures. I quest a bit in Whiterun - join the Companions and such - and then I - oh yeah, I almost forgot, I gain the ability to turn into a Werewolf.
I soon continue the main quest after talking to the Jarl What's-His-Name. I help his assistant by doing absolutely nothing, then I help his Housecarl (a sort of high-ranking bodyguard) by killing a dragon, after which I suck its soul out and spit out a piercing shriek that shakes the grounds. I'VE LEARNED HOW TO SHOUT! Man, I must have been destructive as a baby - I used to shout all the time.
As a reward for my learning how to shout at people and mammoths (seriously, who else would I shout at?), the Jarl bestows upon me the honorable title of Thane, which coincidentally nobody honors at all, and gives me my very own Housecarl, Lydia. I'm happy to find that her attitude is very similar to mine. BFs 4EVER!
The steward of Dragonreach (where this Jarl resides) tells me about the possibility of buying a house. Which I do. Then, I buy all available furniture, because I just so happen to be inexplicably dirty rich. I run into my new home, Breezehome, while Lydia sort of waddles after me. Preparing for my next adventure, I decorate my new house, fill the book shelves, food sacks and chests with all sorts of junk and jewelry, leave some weapons behind and press on with my adventures. I quest a bit in Whiterun - join the Companions and such - and then I - oh yeah, I almost forgot, I gain the ability to turn into a Werewolf.
I drink the blood of a Werewolf. And then I kill an innocent bystander. HERO!
At this point I'm fully immersed in the Skyrim environment. I go on quests, learn how to shout different words, buy homes, rescue people, kill dragons, join the Thieves Guild, go to prison, visit strongholds, acquire magical abilities, fall through the ground some more and explore new, cold and distant regions.
Such as Pelagius's head.
At this point I'm fully immersed in the Skyrim environment. I go on quests, learn how to shout different words, buy homes, rescue people, kill dragons, join the Thieves Guild, go to prison, visit strongholds, acquire magical abilities, fall through the ground some more and explore new, cold and distant regions.
Such as Pelagius's head.
Sheogorath then proceeds to do the fish stick. Cheese!
I can do whatever I want in Skyrim, just like in Oblivion. Only in Skyrim, there are more things to do - more interesting things. You could say that Skyrim is a little darker than Oblivion. Certain quests really seem darker than the ones in Oblivion. Then again, Skooma now tastes better! And the combat system has improved! And you can execute a finishing blow on an enemy! And the Dark Brotherhood seems like a really misunderstood organization run by some guy who was abused as a kid in an orphanage! Skyrim is sooo much better than Oblivionion.
So, after stealing, killing, forging (documents, not weapons) and destroying nature, I can proudly admit that I AM NOT UNLIKE A HERO!
My horse, however, has already become High King of Skyrim. He levels a little faster than I do - probably from all that ass-kicking he does.
So, after stealing, killing, forging (documents, not weapons) and destroying nature, I can proudly admit that I AM NOT UNLIKE A HERO!
My horse, however, has already become High King of Skyrim. He levels a little faster than I do - probably from all that ass-kicking he does.
* I apologize for this title. But you gotta admit, it fits!
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