You are not special

Not you, you understand (especially given that the only person who ever reads this is Nick, arf); I’m referring more to a general state of unimportance.

Allow me to illuminate.

The other day I purchased a game called Mount and Blade (which I was considering writing about at greater length, but lost my thread) and have been having a rollicking little time with it.

It’s a well made game. Clearly a labour of love – as befits its indie game origins – it features numerous things that I find stimulating, chiefly among these the fact the person you play is just some dude.

They’re not magic (as there is no magic), they’re not the chosen one, they’re not the last of a noble bloodline and they’re not out to save the world. They’re just some guy, possibly on a horse, in a world that is tearing itself apart through war and madness.

My guy is making the most of it by being a war-dick, sacking villages that belong to the kingdom my employers go to war with.

It’s a hard life, but a fun one.


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