Salutations folks! I would like to preface this post by apologizing for my sporadic presence these past few weeks. I know it’s been a while since I whipped up a full-fledged article on TAY, but real-life responsibilities and a drastic change in my routine and schedule have prompted me to focus my attention on non-blogging matters. The reasons for my relative and conspicuous absence for the past month or two are still a secret that I do not wish to divulge just yet, but rest assured that I haven’t turned my back on the community whose support and congeniality have compelled me to write game design articles in the first place.
So in light of the kickoff for the 2016 Summer PhoTAYgraphy Club, I decided to start things off by sharing with y’all some screenshots I took while replaying The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, the game that not only made me a Bethesda fan for life, but also rejuvenated my interest in RPGs thanks to its whimsical atmosphere & engaging questlines (Dark Brotherhood is a particularly glowing highlight).
There are just so many incredible things in Oblivion to talk about that it pretty much puts its less jovial and more frigid successor, Skyrim, to shame (Morrowind can be great if you can get past the archaic combat system and intimidatingly steep learning curve). Heck, the ambiance and sense of wonder in Oblivion are so palpably potent that I couldn’t help but take the occasional in-game respite by having my character sit down while he’s gazing at the verdant and bucolic landscape that characterize Cyrodiil. Simply put, Oblivion is more than just a game: it’s a (virtual) second home.
As someone who can be best described as an introverted and phlegmatic individual, I figured I would take and publish pictures of my virtual self (a Breton Pilgrim) just idly sitting and standing around and looking like he’s demurely contemplating the meaning of life, kind of like me when I’m feeling a bit melancholy.
Other than that, I present to you my first round of pictures from a game that has forever changed my perspective on a game genre, as well as my mental self.