“Wake up, we’re here.” Words whispered by a stranger in the bowels of some dimly lit ship. It’s been more than a decade since I first played The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind and I’m starting to suspect that, for me at least, there will never be another game like it, never another introduction I remember so fondly.
Off the ship into the grubby port town of Seyda Neen, with its imposing Census and Excise office, that crooked little lighthouse off to the side, a weird long-legged flea thing off in the distance. It seemed so much larger than six homes and a main road back then. Overwhelming, even. Nowadays every game’s an open-world monstrosity packed full of hundreds of activities, but in 2002? Morrowind seemed incredible. Each tiny town was a bustling metropolis.