These words were written just after the release of Fable II on these shores, I was knee-deep in the game and full of wonder – Far Cry 2 had just proved a disapointment and then out of nowhere this strange console RPG changed all my premonitions on the future of the genre.
You’ve travelled far, fought off packs of bandits, beetles and all sorts of nasties, and have the scars to show it. Weary from travel dirtied with grime and blood, you haul your battered hero down the last stretch of road to Oakfield. You blink your eyes, the dreary, grey palette of the bandit-ridden road so suddenly replaced by sparkling green, yellow and blue. Emerald grass glistens in the noon sun, a windmill spins happily in the distance against a clear blue sky. Merry cottages with golden thatch sit at the feet of tidy patches of farmland. Villages tend to chickens at their pens, modest stalls adorn the worn roads. You spy a pub on the other side of the bustling river. A man with at thick west-country accent waves a warm hello to you as you stand, in awe.
“Wow” you may well stop to think, “These people have it so much better off than me”
You may even stop to think, why are you questing on like this anyway, risking life and limb, fighting hordes of generic baddies, putting your own personal safety (and good looks) at risk? Wouldn’t it just be perfect to settle down in Oakfield, buy a farm, get a wife, and spend the rest of your days earning a modest lumberjack’s wage? It’d make a change, wouldn’t it?