gaming

For many gamers, this week’s release of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Remastered has provided a good excuse to revisit a well-remembered RPG classic from years past. For others, it’s provided a good excuse to catch up on a well-regarded game that they haven’t gotten around to playing in the nearly two decades since its release.

I’m in that second group. While I’ve played a fair amount of Skyrim (on platforms ranging from the Xbox 360 to VR headsets) and Starfield, I’ve never taken the time to go back to the earlier Bethesda Game Studios RPGs. As such, my impressions of Oblivion before this Remaster have been guided by old critical reactions and the many memes calling attention to the game’s somewhat janky engine.

Playing through the first few hours of Oblivion Remastered this week, without the benefit of nostalgia, I can definitely see why Oblivion made such an impact on RPG fans in 2006. But I also see all the ways that the game can feel a bit dated after nearly two decades of advancements in genre design.

One chance at a first impression

From the jump, I found myself struggling to suspend my disbelief enough to buy into the narrative conventions Oblivion throws at the beginner player. The fact that the doomed king and his armed guards need to escape through a secret passage that just so happens to cut through my jail cell seems a little too convenient for my brain to accept without warning sirens going off. I know it’s just a contrivance to get my personal hero’s journey story going, but it’s a clunky way to dive into the world.

The same goes for the way the king dies just a few minutes into the tutorial, and his willingness to trust me with the coveted Amulet of Kings because the “Dragonblood” let him “see something” in me. Even allowing for some amount of necessary Chosen One trope-iness in this kind of fantasy story, the sheer speed with which my character went from “condemned prisoner” to “the last hope of the dying king” made my head spin a bit. Following that pivotal scene with a dull “go kill some goblins and rats in the sewer” escape sequence also felt a little anticlimactic given the epic responsibility with which I was just entrusted.

To be sure, Patrick Stewart’s regal delivery in the early game helps paper over a lot of potential weaknesses with the initial narrative. And even beyond Stewart’s excellent performance, I appreciated how the writing is concise and to the point, without the kind of drawn-out, pause-laden delivery that characterizes many games of the time.

The wide world of Oblivion

Once I escaped out into the broader world of Oblivion for the first time, I was a bit shocked to open my map and see that I could fast travel to a wide range of critical locations immediately, without any need to discover them for myself first. I felt a bit like a guilty cheater warping myself to the location of my next quest waypoint rather than hoofing through the massive forest that I’m sure hundreds of artists spent countless months meticulously constructing (and, more recently, remastering).

I felt less guilty after accidentally stealing a horse, though. After a key quest giver urged me to go take a horse from a nearby stable, I was a bit shocked when I mounted the first horse I saw and heard two heavily armed guards nearby calling me a thief and leaping into pursuit (I guess I should have noticed the red icon before making my mount). No matter, I thought; they’re on foot and I’m now on a horse, so I can get away with my inadvertent theft quite easily.

Determined not to just fast-travel through the entire game, I found that galloping across a rain-drenched forest through the in-game night was almost too atmospheric. I ended up turning up the recommended brightness settings a few notches just so I could see the meticulously rendered trees and rocks around me.

After dismounting to rid a cave of some pesky vampires, I returned to the forest to find my stolen horse was nowhere to be found. At this point, I had trouble deciding if this was simply a realistic take on an unsecured, unmonitored horse wandering off or if I was the victim of a janky engine that couldn’t keep track of my mount.

The jank was a bit clearer when I randomly stumbled across my first Oblivion gate while wandering through the woods. As I activated the gate to find a world engulfed in brilliant fire, I was surprised to find an armed guard had also appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and apparently still mad about my long-lost stolen horse!

When I deactivated the gate in another attempt to escape justice, I found myself immediately stuck chest deep in the game’s scenery, utterly unable to move as that hapless guard tried his best to subdue me. I ended up having to restore an earlier save, losing a few minutes of progress to a game engine that still has its fair share of problems.

What’s beneath the surface?

So far, I’m of two minds about Oblivion‘s overall world-building. When it comes to the civilized parts of the world, I’m relatively impressed. The towns seem relatively full during the daytime—both in terms of people and in terms of interesting buildings to explore or patronize. I especially enjoy the way every passerby seems to have a unique voice and greeting ready for me, even before I engage them directly. I even think it’s kind of cute when these NPCs end a pleasant conversation with a terse “leave me alone!” or “stop talking to me!”

Even the NPCs that seem least relevant to the story seem to have their own deep backstory and motivations; I was especially tickled by an alchemist visiting from afar who asked if I knew the local fine for necrophilia. (It can’t hurt to ask, right?) And discussing random rumors with everyone I meet has gone a long way toward establishing the social and political backstory of the world while also providing me with some engaging and far-flung side quests. There’s a lot of depth apparent in these interactions, even if I haven’t had the chance to come close to fully exploring it yet.

On the other hand, the vast spaces in between the cities and towns seem like so much wasted space, at this point. I’ve quickly learned not to waste much time exploring caves or abandoned mines, which so far seem to house a few middling enemies guarding some relatively useless trinkets in treasure chests. The same goes for going out of my way to activate the various wayshrines and Ayelid Wells that dot the landscape, which have hardly seemed worth the trip (thus far, at least).

Part of the problem is that I’ve found Oblivion‘s early combat almost wholly unengaging so far. Even at a low level, my warrior-mage has been able to make easy work of every random enemy I’ve faced with a combination of long-range flare spells and close-range sword swings. It definitely doesn’t help that I have yet to fight more than two enemies at once, or find a foe that seems to have two strategic brain cells to rub together. Compared to the engaging, tactical group combat of modern action RPGs like Elden Ring or Avowed, the battles here feel downright archaic.

I found this was true even as I worked my way through closing my first Oblivion gate, which had recently left the citizens of Kvask as sympathetic refugees huddling on the outskirts of town. Here, I thought, would be some battles that required crafty tactics, powerful items, or at least some level grinding to become more powerful. Instead, amid blood-soaked corridors that wouldn’t feel out of place in a Doom game, I found the most challenging speedbumps were mages that sponged up a moderate amount of damage while blindly charging right at me.

While I’m still decidedly in the early part of a game that can easily consume over 100 hours for a completionist, so far I’m having trouble getting past the most dated bits of Oblivion‘s design. Character design and vocal production that probably felt revolutionary two decades ago now feel practically standard for the genre, while technical problems and dull combat seem best left in the past. Despite a new coat of paint, this was one Remaster I found difficult to fully connect with so long after its initial release.