I have a confession to make.
I haven't been able to finish a single open world game that came out in the last couple of years.
I think it's most likely because in a way, they all feel so incredibly similar.
I know, that's a bold statement, but modern open world games, to me,
tend to feel more and more to feel like visiting a theme park.
Everything is optimised to put you in a state of flow
never over nor under-challenging the player's brain
so the risk of not knowing what to do ideally never comes up.
There must always be enough activities in close proximity
and because the average user apparently can't be trusted to figure out what to do on their own,
all of this has to be blatantly telegraphed.
By floating arrows, and convenient maps, littered with categorised icons
pointing to categorised mission types, categorised generic side activities,
categorised and often meaningless loot, collectibles and unlockables.
And to make sure you don't get lost - even for a second! - many games will conveniently highlight your path with a GPS line.
I don't say that this is inherently bad or wrong, it's just starting to become really boring.
This trend makes me nostalgic for games like Morrowind, where you had nothing but the
verbal directions of NPCs, describing the way toward your next objective.
and to get there you had to manually meander your way through the world, actually taking in the environment
and using landmarks for orientation.
... and also occasionally getting completely lost.
Respecting the player's curiosity and intelligence in this way leads to a far deeper
and richer experience that makes them organically more receptive to, and familiar with, the game's world.
In this video I want to show you a game that, despite having been released fourteen years ago,
in my eyes still offers one of the best open world experiences ever made.
Now, you'll also find many of its individual design decisions in other games,
but it's the deliberate blend of design choices that, to me, make the original Gothic
- and especially its sequel - such a tightly balanced and engaging open world experience.
Gothic is an open world game but it deliberately chooses NOT to be a sandbox.
What many people, and apparently many designers as well, don't seem to grasp is that there is an inherent difference between those two approaches.
Open world games give you access to a non-linear level design that players can freely approach
more so than in most other genres.
It incorporates backtracking as an essential game play element, and if it's designed well
it can lead to a very immersive free-roaming experience.
Sandbox games, on the other hand, while allowing players a comparable freedom of movement,
revolve mainly around experimenting with the game's mechanics and in doing so setting your own goals.
Basically, the sandbox metaphor is pretty accurate, since the game-play describes exactly what kids do in the sandbox:
They have borders, sand, and a set of tools, and only their creativity and the laws of physics
limit the results they can come up with.
But, because these two genres are so closely related to each other
many open world games try to deliver both
- a story driven open world experience and a light hearted and fun sandbox - in a single title.
And while that can work for sure, the reality is that it mostly leads to one taking away from the other,
so you'll end up with a game that is a Jack of All Trades, but a master of none.
Gothic knows that it's not a sandbox game, and it never tries to be to highlight its strengths.
Its world in non-linear and free for the player to discover
but it subtly constrains their freedom of movement where it serves the plot in a contextually meaningful way.
It restricts your progress, but technically it doesn't,
because it manages to limit your access in a very smart way...?
Goddamn it, how do I explain this?
I like to call it: Natural Progression Borders!
See, it's a pretty logical approach to only gradually open up your game's world
over time to avoid players getting completely lost.
But in many cases this is done in a very ham-handed way
- like closing down all bridges to downtown Liberty City because of terrorism until you've reached a contextually unrelated milestone in the story,
or by putting up gigantic translucent walls until you've unlocked access to the next area.
In Gothic, you can technically reach every point on the island the game takes place on right from the get-go.
but the world's geographic layout and the placement of enemies and NPCs
will naturally prevent you from reaching certain places before you are strong enough.
The game teaches you early on that combat is something you should take seriously
You don't casually hack and slash your way through hordes of monsters
but each enemy that you find on the map is placed there deliberately.
The wilderness is populated by different types of creatures
all of which prefer their own natural environment.
Gross bloodflies prefer dark and moist surroundings.
Scavengers are often found in more lush and grassy areas.
Giant beetle bugs are either seen frequently raiding farmlands or breeding in damp underground cave nests.
And goblins are mostly found living in small groups in secluded mountain camps, just to give a few examples.
Their placement is everything but random.
But unlike in games like The Elder Scrolls, they do not level up along with the player's progress.
So naturally some of the opponents you encounter are way too difficult for you to take on until you have become strong enough,
which will naturally prevent you from entering certain areas of the map where the designers don't want you to go at this point in the game.
This restricts you from having complete freedom but it doesn't feel arbitrary or forced.
And best of all it gives the designers the ability to control precisely how much you can advance
in story and level progression at each stage of the game
and by that make sure that you automatically stick more to the areas that offer the most interesting
and approachable challenges for you until you're strong enough to beat the opponents that once out matched you.
Pretty much like Assassin's Creed does it with opening up more and more
translucent walls to give you access to more parts of the city over time,
Gothic also gradually opens up its world to the player, but the only thing that's required to do it is
the player becoming stronger - and that feels extremely rewarding.
It gives the impression that YOU open up the world instead of the game patronising you and artificially constraining you.
The combat itself, although arguably a bit clunky judged from a modern perspective,
is very direct and extremely tactical.
Every type of creature and every armed opponent approaches you with different attack patterns
that you have to adapt to with quick reflexes and appropriate counter tactics.
So while the game is centred heavily around controlled progression
mastering the combat mechanics can help you compensate for your character's weakness in the beginning
and thereby allow you to access parts of the map that would normally be off limits - if you're skilled enough.
- an optional high risk, high reward progression for more experienced players.
Now this point might seem counter productive at first glance, but it's actually, in my opinion,
one of the most important cornerstones of Gothic's open world design.
Enemies don't respawn.
If you kill it, it's gone for good.
Next time you return to the same place the creature, or the person, won't just magically respawn like in many other games.
Some people might feel that this makes the world feel empty after a while,
but that's actually not the case.
First of all, this uniqueness of every non player character in the game prevents mindless farming
that would directly contradict the controlled progression we've talked about.
If I can just come back and collect enough xp until I'm completely overpowered
all of the careful placement of enemies and quests to organically lead your discovery of Khorinis would be nullified.
In addition to that, preventing enemies from respawning always gives you a clear direction.
If you encounter opposition you know that you're entering uncharted territory.
That especially makes orientation easier, since you're not provided with an in-game map.
To prevent the world from feeling empty when you have to back track later on,
The developers repopulate the world with new creatures when you reach certain story milestones,
but, as always in Gothic, these enemies are not just placed at random.
They make sense in the context of the story.
Like when Dark Magicians have been sent out to hunt you down
you will find a handful of these bastards scattered all over the island, waiting for you at strategic locations.
It makes sense, and it also makes sure that you're not littered with canon fodder
that stands no chance against you any more at a later point in the game, when your character's already more advanced.
Both killing monsters and solving social quests rewards you with the same kind of experience points.
So naturally, since you're pretty weak in the beginning, and get eaten alive by all kinds of creatures
and stabbed to death by every mean spirited bipedal adversary you come across,
you will spend a lot of time in the city
because it's full of interesting and versatile social quests that, in most cases,
don't involve any violent confrontations at all. No danger.
Often enough, the tasks at hand are refreshingly unspectacular.
Harvest a patch of turnips.
Buy a frying pan for the farmer's wife.
Find a master to start an apprenticeship.
- cordial interactions with regular folk.
None of these quests feel generic, every person you talk to has their place in a world that just feels alive.
And by interacting with different people you'll learn more about the fickle political situation,
as well as the individual relationships between all those characters organically,
from their very own point of view.
Gothic is amazing at indirect storytelling by providing exposition about its world through
biased and emotionally compromised eye witnesses that only see a small part of the bigger picture.
It's also masterful at telling stories through its environment,
deliberate level design and placement of items, level architecture and other objects
that let you draw your own conclusions concerning the lore behind it.
Let me guide you through a quest that demonstrates this quite well.
So, when you're in Khorinis you will eventually have to start an apprenticeship.
In my case I have decided to become a smith.
But in order to get accepted you'll have to impress your prospective master.
But he only wants you if you can prove to him that you're strong.
So, we basically have to find an orc and get his weapon.
Now, since we've heard rumours of an orc soldier having been spotted near the northern city wall
you might just go looking for him by leaving the city through the northern gate.
And what do you know? Not far from the town wall, in a somewhat secluded cave,
we find that an orc scout has set camp.
The cave itself already foreshadows that this enemy is probably gonna smash you like a bug
as the cave's entrance is littered with corpses of overzealous adventurers
and, judging from the items they dropped, even a magician who became a feast for the worms when he tried to take him on.
If we should decide to try our luck anyway at this early stage in the game,
well... we just don't stand a chance.
So, what now? Do we now have to level up for hours on end until we can finally challenge him and finish that quest?
Well, that would be one way.
Now, the trick here is to listen closely.
The smith never said "kill an orc".
He might have implied it, but technically all he wants is an orcish weapon.
So if we talk to more people, eventually in a conversation with a soldier who's stationed at the northern city wall
we can overhear that a few days ago a rogue orc warrior was spotted and shot with crossbows in the town wall's moat.
So if you put two and two together you start searching in front of the wall
and stumble upon a corpse of the aforementioned orc, who was apparently heavily wounded
and sought shelter in a nearby cave, where he eventually died from blood loss.
Next to his cold dead body lies his sword.
Well, congratulations! You just impressed your master by listening to people and learning about the world and it's lore in an organic way,
and by doing that advanced the story aswell as your character progression.
Pretty much every quest in this game feels like it's a fundamental part of the game's world.
Even the ones where you technically just have to deliver an item from person A to person B
are always wrapped in a story that prevents it from feeling like a generic FedEx quest
that's just included to artificially extend the duration of the game with generic tasks.
Everything feels like it's part of a living breathing world that exists to add to the game's narrative.
Especially the three factions.
'Cause at one point in the game you will have to choose between one of the three factions to join in order to progress the story.
There's the militia, the most straightforward path, in which you enlist as a footsoldier
and eventually work your way up the career ladder until you enter the ranks of the Royal Paladins.
You can also join the revolting mercenaries. Since you're a former convict too you can work
for an opportunity to become part of the rebels
- which leads to the story unfolding in an entirely different direction.
Or alternatively, you can enter the sacred monastery as a monk.
The Church of Innos is affiliated with the king aswell, but the clerics try to stay somewhat neutral toward secular affairs
- and they will also teach you to become a powerful magician in the end.
The decision is exclusive - you can only join one faction
and once you've made up your mind there's no going back and the game follows a vastly different narrative arc
with different people, quests and objectives and your choice will affect the outcome of the story.
The three factions that let the game unfold in a totally different direction,
the various ways in which you can advance your character,
the plethora of quests ranging from small and interesting to breathtakingly epic
and the many moral choices, often of a very subtle nature, just make it a highly replayable game.
Maybe during the first playthrough you encountered two belligerent farmer brothers who refused to talk to each other
over a minor misunderstanding and came to their help, settling the debate and restoring peace between the two siblings.
And the next time you might feel like manipulating them into beating each other up on the field
- and steal the loser's belongings while no one's watching.
Maybe your first playthrough you joined the militia and fought against the rebellion
but the next time you might feel more like becoming part of the rebellion and engage in guerrilla warfare against the king.
There are just so many situations in Gothic that you can approach in completely different ways
that each playthrough feels like a vastly different experience.
You probably have, at some point, experienced one of those wonderful "coming home" moments
when you played a sequel in which you returned to a place that you became familiar with and grew fond of over the course of the previous title.
Like returning to Solstheim in Skyrim's Dragonborn extension,
in case you have, like me, spent hundreds of hours in Morrowind and Bloodmoon years ago.
Gothic too has maybe some of the most powerful "coming home" moments to offer
because you spend the entire first game inside a prison colony.
A mine valley sealed by a magical barrier in which prisoners can be thrown into but can't leave again.
And you spend many hours familiarising yourself with the land, the old fort, the bandit hideout
and the swamp camp with the weed-smoking cultists,
fought many tough battles and made friends among a population of prison convicts.
And, even though it was a medieval penitentiary and a pretty hazardous environment too,
its unique charm managed to make it feel like home after a while.
In Gothic II the old castle in the valley is garrisoned by the king's troops
who are under siege by an army of orcs.
And at a later point in the game your path leads you eventually back into that old prison valley.
Returning to that familiar old place, with the dark twist that it has been transformed into a terrible battlefield
crawling with orcs and war machinery everywhere.
Descending the hillside just like you did in the beginning of Gothic I.
Seeing that old fort again from the distance and carefully sneaking your way in behind enemy lines -
it's just a mind blowing mixture of nostalgia and thrill
that I haven't felt often during my many years as a gamer so far.
Gothic is not a Jack of all trades, and it doesn't want to be.
It's a masterfully crafted, story focused, highly immersive open world RPG experience.
I could literally go on for hours about those two games, sing its praises
and tell dozens of stories and anecdotes that highlight its unique charm,
the love and care that went into its development, and its incredible versatility.
But I believe if I caught your attention I'd recommend that you just give it a try yourself.
Both games are available on Steam and GOG.com
- and no, this is not a sponsored video. It's a Love Letter
from a nostalgic fan who tries to rationalise his infatuation with a game he never ceased to be fond of.
Thanks for watching guys.
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