Women and Dreams: March 2024

Let's have a look at The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. A fantasy role-playing game from 2006, two years into Howard Dean's presidency. It was a huge hit, but a few years later it was overshadowed by its sequel, Skyrim, and then it became a joke, the butt of a thousand internet videos that poked fun at its simplistic AI, and nowadays it's a fondly-remembered classic and also a joke. Meet Rena Bruiant:

I remember the first time I bumped into Rena Bruiant. It was like meeting an old friend. I wanted to ask if her husband was okay, but the game didn't have that dialogue option. Does she know that she's famous? Here, in the real world, eighteen years later? Imagine if we could tell the people of Oblivion that they're internet celebrities. They could do personal appearances at conventions, or lease themselves out to other games developers, assuming Bethesda recognised their right to self-determination.

I'm not a fan of role-playing games. I hate them! But I'm broad-minded, and Oblivion was on sale, so I decided to see what the fuss was about. As of 2024 most of the bugs have been patched out, and a popular unofficial patch removes many more. In addition the modern version of the game includes all of the downloadable content and expansion packs.

Oblivion was a pioneer of downloadable content. The "horse armour" DLC was particularly infamous. For the low, low price of 200 Microsoft Points - $2.50, but you had to buy points in blocks of 400 - the player could download a 6mb texture pack that made some of the horses look as if they were wearing armour. It didn't make the horses tougher. It just added some health points and changed their appearance.

Bear in mind that Oblivion is a single-player game. The only person who saw the horse armour was you. The armour isn't even particularly good-looking:

In the publishers' defence the horse armour was an oddity. The other addons were more substantial. There was also a pair of large-scale mission packs, Knights of the Nine (for around $10) and the much more extensive Shivering Isles (for around $30), which got good reviews.

No doubt there was online gnashing of teeth back in 2006 at the thought of paying $69.99 for a game and the same again for the expansions, but as of 2024 the Game of the Year Deluxe version is around £12, and I only paid £3.24, because it was on sale. Such are the benefits of being patient.

What were Microsoft points? They were a virtual currency for the Xbox 360. I mention Microsoft because Oblivion was originally an Xbox-360-and-PC exclusive. It didn't reach the PlayStation 3 until 2007, and even then the PlayStation didn't get the horse armour DLC, only Knights and Shivering Isles.

I have dim memories that Oblivion was controversial with long-term Elder Scrolls fans, because it's a lot more prosaic than its predecessor, Morrowind. The fantasy world of Morrowind was truly alien. The architecture was organic and the player could hitch rides on the back of giant bugs. It only had a little bit of voice acting, but in exchange the dialogue trees were lengthy and detailed.

In comparison Oblivion takes place in a generic medieval fantasy Europe, and the conversations - although fully-voiced - are just a few lines long. It looks a lot more impressive than Morrowind, but it's less imaginative. My natural instinct is to not care at all about this, but with the benefit of hindsight I think the fans of Morrowind actually had a point, because Oblivion's major failing is its blandness.

Original copies of the Xbox 360 version will run on modern Xboxes with backwards compatibility, while PlayStation owners have to make do with a streaming copy of game via Sony's PlayStation Now streaming service, because it was only ever released for the PlayStation 3. To date it hasn't been remastered for later generations of the PlayStation.

The PC version is widely available on Steam and other marketplaces, and in theory boxed copies of the PC original can be made to work under Windows 10 and 11. The PC version supports modding and has a development console, so it's the best version to play nowadays.

There was also a mobile phone spin-off, but this being 2006 the mobile phone port was an isometric 3D affair written in Java that nobody remembers.

Is Oblivion any good? Was it any good in 2006? Has it aged well? The answers are "it's engaging although a lot depends on how you approach it", "yes, it deserved the awards", and "imagine a mixture of cheese and wine" in that order. Oblivion has aged like fine cheese, and also fine wine. It has aged like a vintage MRE - the crackers and cigarettes have got better with time, not so much the canned meat.

What is The Elder Scrolls? It's a fantasy role-playing universe dating from the 1990s. An unusually vague universe. It's not a spoof, it's not super-serious, it doesn't aspire to being high art, it's not as gritty as The Witcher, it doesn't have the depth of Baldur's Gate or Diablo, it isn't a deconstruction of role-playing games. It's generic, deliberately so. The series has a tonne of backstory, but it rarely intrudes into the actual games.

A few years ago I had a look at Fallout 3. It uses the same engine as Oblivion and was published by the same company, but two years later. Fallout 3 is sci-fi, Oblivion is fantasy. Back then I described Fallout 3 as the role-playing equivalent of junk food, and Oblivion is much the same. Oblivion really perfected the "ambient wash of wandering and quests" model, and it's surprising how much the game accomplishes for something that came out in 2006. That's a long time ago. In 2006 Call of Duty was still set in the Second World War and Half-Life 2 was a going concern.

The Elder Scrolls games are made by Bethesda Softworks. The pillars of its empire are Fallout and The Elder Scrolls and latterly Starfield. The games are popular but there's a perception they're all the same, and that the company has given up on innovation in favour of pumping out product. Bethesda also publishes the modern Doom games, but that's the publishing part of Bethesda. The developing part, Bethesda Softworks, is separate. They are all owned by a company that is owned by Microsoft. Enough of Bethesda.

The first Elder Scrolls game, Arena (1994), was released for the PC, and only the PC, because in those days the PC was nerd city. It didn't sell very well. The internet suggests that it shifted less than five thousand units. People only remember it today for the cover art, which was about ten years out of date for 1994:

Were breast implants a thing in the world of The Elder Scrolls: Arena? Perhaps they were. The cover stands out because the modern Elder Scrolls games are surprisingly progressive. The armour is gendered, but sensible-looking, and the series takes place in a world where no-one is fazed by green-skinned orcs or cat people. Male and female characters have the same stats, and indeed the player can play as a man or a woman, or an orc, or a lizard-person, or a cat-person etc. There's a certain amount of racial stereotyping, but it's very mild.

Arena's cover is also jarring on a purely stylistic level, because Morrowind, Oblivion, and Skyrim have minimalist artwork. They're packaged as if they were ancient books. The cover art of Oblivion is modelled on an actual book in the game, on the table here, in front of Sean Bean:

After the failure of Arena Bethesda didn't give up. Daggerfall (1996) sold around a million copies, Morrowind (2002) around five million, with around a fifth of those sales on the original Xbox. Oblivion (2006) brought the series into the high-def age of the Xbox 360 and PS3, selling around around ten million, but that paled in comparison with Skyrim (2011), which has shifted around sixty million units on a range of platforms, more than the rest of the series combined.

In its day Oblivion was a big hit, and a big thing on the internet, but Skyrim is a legitimate mainstream cultural phenomenon on a par with Grand Theft Auto. The New York Times runs stories about Skyrim streamers and during the COVID lockdown it took on a new lease of life, because no-one was allowed to explore the actual real world any more.

Skyrim is an unusually long-lived game. The 2016 Special Edition remains on sale at full price today. Nowadays it's almost the default modern fantasy game, the archetypal fantasy role-playing game that people who aren't interested in the genre might own. Even I have a copy, and I don't even like role-playing games.

Why not? I grew up at a time when Star Wars and Transformers were cool and He-Man was naff. The swords-and-sorcery genre was pretty embarrassing in the 1980s. You know what was cool? The Terminator and RoboCop, not effing Willow. The few decent fantasy films were either too R-rated to develop a big popular following (Conan the Barbarian), or too weird (Excalibur, Time Bandits, Quest for Fire, The Navigator). It wasn't until Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings that fantasy became hip, and even that was an outlier.

Dear god I hate role-playing games. The numbers. The numbers! It's a genre where you can hit a man in the face with an axe and it only does two points of damage because he's wearing special magical gloves. A genre in which the power of a weapon is determined not by its sharpness but by the player's experience points. A genre in which the artifice of gaming is front-and-centre.

I can understand why role-playing games have numbers. I get the historical context. They're derived from table-top wargames, which date from a time when players had to roll dice to work out whether their little soldiers were winning. But that kind of thing doesn't make sense any more. Computers can model ballistics in real time. If I wanted numbers I would play Cookie Clicker, which I also do, but with Cookie Clicker the numbers don't mean anything at all, and I can accept that.

Do you know what amuses me? According to the internet Pokemon is a role-playing game. It's the most popular role-playing franchise of all time. Imagine how angry that makes OG fans of Ultima and The Bard's Tale and Wizardry etc. Their genre is dominated by a game with imaginary monsters. Instead of real monsters. Which are imaginary. I'm going to stop talking about role-playing games now.

But, seriously, if you want to mess with a fan of role-playing games, wait for them to say "I like role-playing games" and reply with "Pokemon rocks" and then cast a spell of invisibility or something.

Who is the hero of The Elder Scrolls? There isn't one, each game has a different main character. Who is the villain? There's a different one in each game. Some kind of wizard. The Elder Scrolls takes place in a world where everybody can cast spells, but there's a bit of science as well. It has elements of Greco-Roman mythology, bits of Tolkien, bits of Dungeons and Dragons, bits of Lewis Carroll, the list goes on.

Early in Oblivion I met a bunch of stereotypical European medieval monks, but they were armed with Japanese samurai katanas. They took me to a Himalayan monastery located just north of a town seemingly modelled on Bavarian Germany. The monastery was full of Roman legionnaires. The whole game is like this. It mixes a bunch of fantasy and historical elements into a thick, slightly bland soup.

Tonally the series has no swearing ("bastard" is about as bad as it gets), very little sex, some sanitised violence. The occasional diversions into darkness are generally played as black comedy. The game does dabble in unpleasantness, mostly in the expansion packs, but you have to actively seek it out.

Having never played it before I was surprised at how close to Doom it was in places. The plot involves an invasion by satanic monsters that emerge from portals to hell, just like in Doom, and there are skinned corpses and piles of gore, but they're too low-poly to be disturbing.

Incidentally the game was launched in the United States with a T-for-Teen ESRB rating, but the rating was increased to M-for-Mature shortly afterwards on account of a mixture of the aforementioned gore plus a default no-clothes skin that had nipples. Oblivion is still M, but it's very hard to take seriously nowadays.

The Elder Scrolls games are notable for their technology. Daggerfall had an enormous open-world map roughly the size of the United Kingdom, with thousands of procedurally-generated dungeons. Morrowind and Oblivion had smaller, but still very large maps dotted with masses of locations, designed so that the player could run from one end of the world to the other with only minimal loading pauses. Unfortunately Oblivion was developed during what is now known as the "shedloads of bloom" era, when everything that was even slightly reflective glowed with the power of a thousand suns:

Well, that told me

I have the impression Oblivion was supposed to look like real life in 2006, but now it looks like a cartoon. I was alive back then, and having had a go at the PlayStation 3 version I can see why it felt like a generational leap. Morrowind had the same engine, but the environment was shrouded in fog and everything was brown or green. Oblivion on the other hand has a huge draw distance - the PS3 fades objects in and out, which works well - and it's a riot of colour. 2006 was just slightly before the "real is brown" trend in video games, so in that respect Oblivion has aged backwards, a bit like Mirror's Edge.

Almost twenty years later the realism aspect has dated hilariously, but Oblivion is still a good-looking game, albeit in a different way. The neon colours and plastic terrain now look like a deliberate stylistic choice, like The Long Dark or Zelda: Breath of the Wild, rather than a failed attempt at realism. It's a rare example of a game that has gone from looking great, to looking naff, to looking great again but in a different way. If I was remastering it I would improve the scenery pop-in, tart up the dungeons, licence a more realistic terrain generator, but otherwise leave it alone.

The music has also aged well. In fact it's legitimately good. The Elder Scrolls games have orchestral-style soundtracks that make the games seem more expensive than they are. I say orchestral-style because they have a whiff of sampled strings about them, but the orchestration is solid, and Oblivion is particularly lovely:

I played Oblivion on a Windows 10 PC in 2024 and it was generally unproblematic. Unlike Fallout 3 it doesn't have to be patched to get rid of the now-defunct Games for Windows Live. On a subjective level it felt slightly newer than Fallout 3 or Fallout: New Vegas despite being the older game. I'm not sure if it was the denser foliage, the more diverse colour palette, the grass, or the more expensive-sounding music.

It crashed in places, but the game generously auto-saves, so I didn't lose anything. This being 2024 I could run the game at 1920x1080 with all the sliders turned to maximum. I didn't use any mods.

Bethesda's role-playing games all share a formula. It was established with Arena but perfected by Oblivion, and the company hasn't felt the need to change things since. They all take place in a large, open world that has a handful of city hubs that exist as separate sub-worlds, plus several dozen smaller settlements, plus hundreds of little places that might have a small quest or a collectible sword or something.

Early in the game the player is given a main quest, but there's no time limit, and the player is free to explore the world and complete side-quests instead. The idea is that the player has to toughen up a bit before tackling the main villain, although Oblivion is odd in that respect. It's actually better to get Oblivion's main quest over with as quickly as possible and then explore the world later on. I'll explain why in a moment.

The games all use a first-person perspective. They take place in a sped-up version of real time, with a day-night cycle and changing weather, and they're filled with non-player characters who have their own sleep-wake-work-eat-sleep cycles. They feel like a living world, although on a fundamental level the non-player characters are just little robots who have a schedule and a set of stock responses.

I'm old enough to remember The Hobbit on the ZX Spectrum, in which the player could ask other characters to pick things up or go north or whatever, which was heady stuff in 1982. The idea of an adventure game with other characters that led independent lives was cutting-edge at the time, although it didn't work very well.

In contrast Oblivion is infamous for its stilted, artificial NPC conversations, but for the most part the NPC scheduling and scripting works. I found that pitched battles involving lots of characters sometimes ended with my allies committing fratricide, because a stray firebolt or arrow had hit a friendly target, but for the most part Oblivion's AI is transparent, in its goofy way. The internet is full of tales of people spending hours living in its world, exploring and collecting furniture and taking screenshots, because it's a nice place to visit. Albeit that the locals are odd.

Oblivion's AI is the stuff of legends. NPCs have a bunch of conversation fragments they deploy when they walk past each other. "How goes it", "I've been better", "goodbye!", "how goes it", "I've been better", "I saw a mudcrab the other day", "goodbye!". There's a player reputation aspect, which means that NPCs are bizarrely passive-aggressive at the beginning of the game. They begin conversations with a warm greeting, then dismiss the player with "not you again" and "stop talking". There's a whole conversational mini-game that involves gauging the NPC's facial expressions, which leads to some odd instances where NPCs switch from smiling to frowning as if they had suddenly received an instruction from the radio in their brain, which I suppose technically they had.

The game has just over eight hundred voiced characters, but only fifteen voice actors, which includes a small number of celebrities who only voice a little bit of dialogue. Oblivion established a Bethesda trademark whereby the company spent a lot of money on celebrity voice actors - Patrick Stewart, Sean Bean, Terence Stamp, and Lynda Carter - but then did nothing to publicise this, which raises the question of why they bothered. I was unaware that Patrick Stewart was in the game until after I started playing it.

Bethesda did the same again with Fallout 3, which had Liam Neeson as the hero's dad, and New Vegas, which had Kris Kristofferson and Matthew Perry. I have a theory that the people who make Bethesda's games love hiring actors and being in the studio with them, but are terrified to give them direction because they don't have a clear vision of what the characters should sound like, and they're scared to tell Patrick Stewart et al how to do their jobs.

Stewart voices the doomed Emperor Uriel Septim, but he doesn't have time to make an impression. His performance slips into ham at the very end - "you must shut the gates - OF OBLIVION!" - but there's nothing wrong with it otherwise. His reaction to the death of his sons is effectively underplayed.

Terence Stamp isn't nearly as good, which puzzled me. He sounds as if he's reading the script for the first time. Oblivion comes with a "making-of" documentary that includes footage of Stamp's recording session, where he does indeed appear to be reading directly from the script - amusingly he also voices the WARG! and YAHH! combat noises, acting out sword thrusts and parries - but it was in a professional recording studio, with direction and the opportunity to do multiple takes. And yet Stamp sounds hesitant, as if none of the fantasy words mean anything to him.

Sean Bean on the other hand is terrific. He plays reluctant heir Martin Septim, who resolves to do the best he can despite overwhelming odds. Without wishing to spoil things there's a twist at the end whereby the game reveals he was the hero all along, and the player was just a supporting character, but Bean is so charismatic I didn't mind. He was hired late in the day but delivers by far the best performance in the game. Even many months later I can still hear Sean Bean in my head saying the word "Akatosh".

Lynda Carter chipped in seemingly as a favour to her husband, who was at the time one of the co-owners of Bethesda Softworks. She voiced a few generic characters in Morrowind, a bunch of NPCs in Oblivion and Skyrim, but had a much larger role in Fallout 4, where she played a major character who sang a bunch of original songs.

That left around eleven voice actors for the remaining eight hundred characters. In Oblivion's defence the voice acting is at least competent. The actors emote appropriately and the quest-giving characters each have the germ of a distinct personality and voice. But generic, background NPCs often sound as if they're having conversations with themselves, and entire character classes - the guards, the cat-like Khajiit, every single one of the generic Oblivion baddies - have the same voice, as if they were the same people inhabiting different bodies.

Apparently the team recorded even more dialogue, but the game had to fit on a single DVD, so half of the generic dialogue was chopped out. The PlayStation 3 version came on a high-capacity Blu-Ray disc, but none of the extra dialogue was put back, which is a shame.

On a technical level every Elder Scrolls game from Morrowind onwards uses the same basic scripting engine, but with upgraded graphics. Oblivion, Fallout 3, and Fallout: New Vegas share an iteration of the engine that has plastic terrain and a curiously flat, shadowless look. Skyrim and Fallout 4 use the next generation of the engine, with vastly better lighting, although some things haven't changed. In every game from Morrowind in 2002 to at least Fallout 4 in 2015 the player can see through water by hovering the viewpoint just below the surface :

Fallout 4 (bottom) isn't quite as obvious, but the problem is still there

Oblivion was the first game in the series with a modern-style physics engine, but the game generally doesn't make use of it in a significant way. There's a telekinesis spell, but I don't recall any quests that needed it. Skyrim apparently has some traps that can be bypassed by putting a weighty object on them. If Oblivion has anything like that I haven't found it.

The game has a quirk that makes things easier if the player does the main quest early on. There's a complicated system of skills and attributes that advance each time the player jumps or sneaks or slashes or blocks or casts a spell etc. The overall system is arcane, although actual skill point advancement just involves repeating an action numerous times. There are tales of players putting weights on the controller buttons to continually cast low-level spells, or using a rubber band to continually sneak in a room with a sleeping NPC in order to boost their stealth.

When the player sleeps he or she advances up a level, but as the player advances the monsters advance as well, in lockstep, so unless the player concentrates on building up their health and combat skills the game becomes harder. Or rather the enemies take longer to kill, because they have more health. A levelled player is stronger, but so are the baddies, so the combat just takes longer. Pity the player who decides to major on speechcraft and lockpicking, because those skills are useless during the big combat sequences.

To make things worse non-player characters don't advance in level, so late-game escort quests are teeth-grindingly difficult. And so a perfectly legitimate strategy is to play the whole game at a low level, fighting a mixture of rats, skeletons, and weak barbarians throughout the entire storyline. For my playthrough I gradually advanced to level twenty, at which point the game deploys its whole array of monsters, and I can confirm that the combat just gets slower and more boring as the game goes on. The quest rewards are more powerful, but everything takes more damage, so I never felt as if I was actually advancing.

Story-wise Oblivion begins with the death of Emperor Uriel Septim, who is assassinated as part of a co-ordinated campaign of regicide. His sons are killed, too, leaving the throne of the land of Tamriel vacant.

Or so it seems. With his dying wish Septim asks the player to deliver an amulet to a humble priest, Brother Martin of Weynon Priory. It turns out that Martin is the Emperor's illegitimate son from way back. Martin is unprepared for emperor-hood, but he doesn't have time to reconsider, because evil Oblivion Gates start to appear throughout the land, spewing out monsters. The player learns how to close the gates by passing through them into the satanic realms beyond and stealing a special artefact, but the gates keep coming.

There's a bit of detective work, a lot of fetch quests, and a big battle at the end to close the gates once and for all, and on the whole the main quest is straightforward and a bit dull. An awful lot of people who played Oblivion in the 2000s never bothered with the main quest. It was designed so that the player could complete it at a low level, so none of it is especially hard, although the Oblivion gates can be tricky if the player hasn't put skill points into combat. My hunch is that the developers completed the main quest first, then had fun with the side-quests, because the main quest itself is linear and dull.

Oblivion feels like a prototype of Bethesda's later games. The player has a reputation system, akin to the karma in Fallout 3, but it doesn't play a major role in the game. There isn't an option to betray Martin Septim and side with the villain, or kill everybody and declare godhood. There are different factions, but they don't have any bearing on the main plot. The main quest is completely linear, without even the ending slides of the Fallout games.

The random side-quests tend to be very simple as well. They mostly involve travelling from point A to point B to find a special amulet, then returning to point A to hand it in. At one point a chap asked me to kill a bunch of drug dealers holed up in a local house. I was expecting a twist. Was he a rival dealer? Was he using me to kill a bunch of innocent people? Was there a special way of approaching the quest? But no, there wasn't a twist. I just had to go in, kill them, then go back for my reward. Most of the quests are like that.

There are several round-robin quests that involve visiting a series of locations one after the other. In particular there's an annoying side-quest where the player assembles an army to defend the city of Bruma, which involves taking down a series of Oblivion gates, one after the other, in order to persuade that city to send release some soldiers. It's tedious because there are only half a dozen Oblivion maps - essentially small-scale combat arenas with a central tower and some loot - so the quest gets boring quickly. I eventually found myself running to the top of the tower, ignoring most of the baddies, and that is apparently a fairly popular solution.

Overall Oblivion is the opposite of something like Deus Ex or BioShock. Those games are deep but narrow, while Oblivion - with its array of sidequests and diversions - is shallow, but a thousand miles wide.

Another issue is environmental storytelling, which is embryonic. The Fallout games are designed in such a way that each location tells a little story. From Fallout 3 I still remember the couple above, and also a radio broadcast from a chap frantically asking for medical assistance for his son, and the nurse-led refugee station that became overwhelmed with the sick etc.

Oblivion is much simpler. It has a few ghostly visions and mysterious pools of blood, some ransacked rooms, but for the most part the dungeons are just generic caves. The game also suffers from a curiously flat atmosphere. Half a decade earlier there was a great game called Thief: The Dark Project, which in some respects resembles Oblivion, but the maps were spookier. Oblivion has a stealth aspect, but it's simplistic, and I never felt scared.

The third thing that stands out is the lack of survival aspect. The game has all the elements - food, drink, cutlery, plates, fires etc - and the player character can even combine consumables to make potions, but the player never needs to actually eat or drink. Or even sleep, which makes the inns and taverns feel slightly pointless. I can't really criticise Oblivion for this because 2006 was a long time ago, and survival didn't come to Bethesda's games until New Vegas in 2010, but it's frustrating how close the developers got to something that was fashionable just a few years later.

A good example of Oblivion's cosy map design, ten years before "hygge" was a thing. Cosy design was something that Skyrim ran with.

I have to admit that I've only played the main quest and a smattering of side quests. The lengthy Dark Brotherhood plotline - in which the player becomes an assassin - is apparently much more interesting, and Shivering Isles gets good reviews. A quest in which I had to venture into a character's dream world stood out for its imaginative design, but beyond that the other quests blended into each other.

Now, you probably have the impression that I dislike Oblivion. The quests are simplistic and it doesn't have a distinctive atmosphere. The combat consists mostly of dashing forward, slashing with a sword, then dashing back again. The dungeons all look the same. The characters don't stand out. The levelling system is such that some weapons, notably bows, become useless later in the game. The main quest involves a lot of fetching things. The final battle is essentially a big cutscene.

But I found myself warming it it. Warming to the lovely sunsets and the attractive grass. The game works as as a kind of ambient entertainment. The internet has numerous tales of people playing Oblivion on and off for months, dipping into the sidequests every now and again and simply exploring the world. The countryside takes an appreciable time to traverse, and after a while most things respawn, so the player can tackle the dungeons more than once, trying out different weapons each time.

And it's fun to just hang around in town, seeing what bizarro nonsense the NPCs come up with. Moreso than Fallout 3, because the town hubs of Oblivion are larger and have more people. So I suppose Oblivion works better as a role-playing game than a standalone adventure. And there's always the possibility that by prodding the NPCs and trying to make them do crazy things they might develop consciousness.

Incidentally, here's what the PS3 version looks like:

The PS3 version doesn't have the foliage draw distance of the PC version, or even any graphical options beyond "brightness", but it's still good-looking, and recognisably the same game

On top of that, I have to remember that the game came out in 2006. I began to appreciate it more when I had a go at the PlayStation 3 version, because that brought home just how old the game is.

In 2006 the game was widely hailed as a masterpiece, because there wasn't anything quite like it, and if it has been spoiled by Fallout 4 and Skyrim nowadays that isn't Oblivion's fault. From mighty... from little acorns, something. Mighty oaks something.

Saturday, 23 March 2024

Tiny Core Linux on a ThinkPad X60s

Friday, 1 March 2024

The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion

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