#Skyrim more food mods how to
#Skyrim more food mods mod

IвЂ™ve honestly never been into Skyrim, finding it too big and overwhelming even for my often outsized sensibilities, but The Forgotten City is compelling enough that I sort of want to dust off my copy and experience the mod in its first iteration. It was originally conceived as a modification of Skyrim, the massive open-world game, back in 2016, and became a cult hit before a team of indie developers turned it into a standalone. This is especially interesting given the gameвЂ™s development history. (ThereвЂ™s a combat element, for example, that you can opt out of entirely without disrupting the gameвЂ™s narrative, a feat of clever plot construction as much as it is just good sense.) ThereвЂ™s a sense of urgency without stress, of propulsion at a manageable pace, and even moments that could be scary or unsettling or mechanically difficult can be approached from so many angles that it should feel accessible to folks who have never touched a video game before.

Mostly, though, itвЂ™s just fun, whether youвЂ™re solving puzzles, spreading rumors, or helping a kindly himbo run for political office. It feels endlessly satisfying to reach these tiny milestones and to feel the tug of purpose alongside the sheer joy of exploring a beautifully rendered landscape and talking to extremely well-written characters. The gameplay mechanic is tidy and legible, with an in-game checklist of tasks to accomplish - the ideal example of a to-do list you can play. Still, it never feels frustrating or repetitive, even when you make a mistake - itвЂ™s extremely possible to find yourself in the position of the sinner who ruins everything, but the game always gives you plenty of room to learn and do better next time. It results in something like a Rube Goldberg machine of problems to solve and decisions to make helping one person with one issue can reverberate across half a dozen seemingly unrelated plot points. The game cleverly answers basically every question you might have right now, such as, вЂњWait, how do you define a sin?вЂќ and, вЂњThat seems like a raw deal, why donвЂ™t they all simply move?вЂќ Without giving too much else away, the gameplay functions as a loop, wherein you are able to replay the same day over and over again, attempting to unravel the various mysteries that stack up as you interview the cityвЂ™s residents. Almost right away, you learn that everyone in the city, including yourself, is bound by a single rule: If even one person commits a sin, everyone dies.

#Skyrim more food mods how to

In the process of figuring out how you got there and how to return to your own time, you get to explore the environs and talk to each of the few dozen residents you encounter, all of whom clearly have A Lot Going On. Here is about as spoiler-free a description of the game as I can manage: You as a modern-day protagonist find yourself thrown back in time to an almost-abandoned, seemingly ancient-Rome-adjacent city. ItвЂ™s called The Forgotten City, and if any of the following cultural products strongly appeal to you then you should stop reading this and just go play it without any additional context: The Legend of Zelda (MajoraвЂ™s Mask, specifically), Lost, the immersive theatrical event Sleep No More, the sort of vague pre-teen conception of вЂњmythology,вЂќ or gossip.

Recently, though, thanks to a full-throated recommendation from my favorite video game podcast, I completely fell in love with a game that is the definition of small: barely 10 hours long, made by a team of only a handful of developers, and originally conceived as an add-on to a much, much larger game. IвЂ™ve mostly found it comforting to play gigantic games - JRPGs (Japanese role-playing games) that can take hundreds of hours to complete - or open-world adventures where you can wander a fictional countryside and venture beyond the walls of your one-bedroom apartment for an hour or five. IвЂ™d played them steadily since I was a kid, occasionally becoming obsessed with this franchise or that throughout my 20s, but it wasnвЂ™t until I had nowhere to go, nothing to do, and nobody to do it with that this lightly pulsating rhythm beneath my day-to-day existence became a full-blown roar. It would be hard to overstate the degree to which IвЂ™ve become addicted to video games during the pandemic.