It’s 2006, and The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion just released on a cold Monday morning in March. A 16-year-old me was just fired from my below-minimum-wage pizza oven career, but after seeing some Elder Scrolls gameplay, I was bound and determined to get an Xbox 360.
After months of turmoil, taking on odd neighborhood jobs for $10 or less and penny-pinching, I was still short on cash come September. To my surprise and joy, my parents got it for my birthday that same month.
I had never poured so many hours into a game. The only other title that ever came close to something like this had been the initial EverQuest in 1999. I was an inexperienced gamer who had never seen the likes of The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind or other open-world RPGs outside of that MMO experience.
Oblivion was a new benchmark, a game that would set the bar for other open-world RPGs to come. A bar that its predecessor, Morrowind, had set.
The Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion would be played for years by me on that Xbox 360. I poured over 700 hours into it before I finally put it down, having earned every single achievement well before that day.
Since that day, I’ve booted Oblivion up once or twice to reminisce. The gameplay was true to what I believed it once was, but the years were showing. Colorful and bright, Oblivion wasn’t quite as beautiful as my nostalgic eyes remembered.
I was content with that, as I turned to Skyrim for my Elder Scrolls needs and have continued to return, adding many mods to enhance and transform the experience from an RPG to a Souls-like game, and even to a cooperative adventure with features like Skyrim Together.
Oblivion would always be my first true single-player RPG experience, a fondly held memory cherished in my heart.
Then, the rumors of a remaster began to surface. Surely, I thought, this would never work out. The vision and original quirkiness of my childhood would somehow be undone or ruined. Then, The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Remastered just.. released.
New game, familiar face
I, along with hundreds of thousands of other people, downloaded Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Remastered the instant it became available. No matter what, I at least had to try it, right?
I started a new game and got to the character creator. I was immediately drawn to the Dark Elf once more. A stealthy Destruction-based archer was to be born once more. Every facial detail was meticulously composed to make the most human-looking Dark Elf I could, just like a 16-year-old me had done before.
Patrick Stewart entered my now-worn eardrums. The last time I had heard the voice of the Emperor, I had never worn anything like a gaming headset. His voice was so much more unmistakable in modern audio; I developed chills hearing him declare our destinies were intertwined.
His face was much gaunter than previously; a higher polygon count would do that, but it was unmistakably him. He was, as I remembered. A stoic man beseeched by miserable times and the ultimate moment that lay before him.
Combing through the Capitol sewers felt like revisiting my early teen days. I was back in front of that analog, boxed television set as if 20 years hadn’t passed. Grand emotions were beginning to stir inside me.
I fought tooth and nail for the Emperor, forgetting the inevitable fate that awaited me as the guards shouted at me repeatedly to return to Septim and defend him instead. By the end, assassin bodies began disappearing due to the sheer number the Blades and I had slain.
I returned to him one last time to watch the inevitable as I had all those years ago.
The moment relived — Exiting the Sewers
Moving on, I paced toward the exit of the sewers. I had one last chance to align my stars and class specialties, one of the things I loved about Oblivion. I could make my own class tailored to my play style.
Willpower and Agility would lead the way, followed by Athletics, Destruction, Marksman, Restoration, Sneak, Light Armor, and Blade. I would be the shadow that, if seen, would be the end of your sight.
Once I opened the sewer gates, it felt as though I had been transported 20 years into the past. The vibrant, wonderous world I’d laid eyes on as a child had brought me back to my youth. I sprinted across the landscape, taking it all in.
Nothing looked the same, yet it all felt so familiar and perfect. The trees and grasslands were, as my memory had always led me to believe, preserved in an imperfect, nostalgia-driven museum. Nothing that I kept in my memories was true, but it was stored in such a way that I remembered it always looking just as good as the remaster does.
I don’t often feel the urge to weep over a video game; if I do, it’s over a character’s demise. In that moment, the recollections of years gone by and earlier times beseeched me, overwhelming me to the point of tears.
A favorite moment from a simpler time brought me back to a childlike fantasy. After thousands of games, The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion was the one to bring me back to my childhood all over again. Fantasy, wonder, glitches, everything was intact.
I know I’m not the only one who’s felt this. Whether it be the Gates of Oblivion or another treasured title, we gamers are simple creatures. When such a grand moment of our childhood is revisited, we can’t put into words the sensation, yet we all feel it.
We all know and understand what someone’s talking about when they mention it. If you’ve yet to have that experience, perhaps Virtuoso’s discounted remaster is the key to returning to that happy place again. I know it was for me, and I can’t wait to jump back in the instant I’m done writing this.
