Review: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion

Logan Booker ventures forth into the lands of Tamriel for the time of his life.

"YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE HERE ALIVE!"

The daedroth's mace recoiled off my mangled shield, sparks flying and bounded wood splintering. The blow was much harder than the last, and my arm went numb as it absorbed the shock.

I glanced at the power sphere nearby, anchoring the Oblivion gate to the world of Nirn. The daedroth stood between me and the sphere.

It had to die.

Eyes burning red with hate, the creature towered over me, its glistening, crimson mace hovering above its head. It was looking for an opening, a weakness in my defences.

It wasn't going to happen.

Silver axe in hand and anger churning behind it, I swore at the unearthly creature, and swung.

Meet the greatest computer role-playing game ever made.

That's not to say there won't be another game in the future that trounces it, but for now, you won't find a more engaging, satisfying RPG experience than Bethesda's Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion.

We've waited a hell of a long time for it, not including last year's delay, forcing it to miss the US Xbox 360 launch back in November. Those first screenshots, showing luscious fields of grass and trees, shining armour with specular bloom and picture-perfect buildings, built more fervent fanaticism for the game than a single copy of the latest Star Wars teaser at a sci-fi convention.

Frenzied anticipation just doesn't justify the feeling we all felt when the game went gold. Fear that it wouldn't live up to its hype and pants-soiling terror that it would be riddled with bugs ala Daggerfall (or Buggerfall by fans) ravaged us for weeks.

What we review here, however, exceeded all expectations.

The blow bounced of the daedroth's demonic plate armour. The monster flinched against the swing, snarling in pain. I grasped my axe with renewed vigour and attacked again.

It stepped back, and my axe sliced air. I yelled in frustration and the beast laughed.

With its free hand, it began to chant words of power in an evil tongue that made my skin crawl, focusing its magical energies into a glowing ball of flame. It started life briefly as nothing but a flicker, but within moments it had culminated into a bright, fearsome blaze. It sat inches above the daedroth's open palm and, as quickly as it had summoned it the creature cast the magical fireball toward me.

There was no time to dodge.

Like previous games in the Elder Scrolls series, the player starts off as a prisoner, trapped and strapped of equipment. In Oblivion, your confines are a dirty, stone cell in the castle of the Imperial City of Cyrodiil, with nothing but your bed and an elf in another cell as company. After a brief, one-side conversation with your pointed eared companion, the sounds of clashing metal and the cries of dying men descend from the steps leading to the castle proper.

It is then you meet Uriel Septim VII, the current emperor of Tamriel, flanked by a pair of Blades, sworn protectors of the empire. A Blade unlocks your cell door and all three enter, and one of the Blades proceeds to open a secret passage. After yet another fleeting conversation, this time with Septim, in which he informs you that the castle is under attack from assassins, you depart from your cell via the passage and the game begins.

I braced for the impact, cowering behind what was left of my shield. The fireball hit me like a burning cannonball, and I felt the raw force pound against my armour.

But that was all.

There was a reason I was born under the sign of the Atronach and, until this moment, I had never fathomed what that reason was. When the holy men of my homeland of High Rock told me that people of the Atronach sign were warded from magic by the Nine, I had laughed and made fun of their baldness. Sufficed to say, to this day I find it hard to find a priest who has yet to hear of my uncouth blasphemy.

Yet, I believed them now. There was no heat, no scorching of flesh or unbearable pain. My entire body flashed a vibrant purple as the magic from the spell was absorbed. I felt invigourated, energy coursed through my veins, and my own, long depleted magical reserves imparted me enough power for a single spell.

The daedroth stared at me, confused. But its lapse in confidence was momentary and a second later, it was charging, its face contorted in hatred once more.

I smiled.