This review was originally published on Gaming Horizon, GameBump's predecessor. Its format does not match our own but we support its content. It was written by Evan Lahti.

Knights and kings, swords and spells, dungeons and demons. The medieval theme may seem overdone, but The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion represents a fresh fantasy-RPG experience that sets the precedent for what this whole "next-generation" thing is supposed to be about. A role-playing game in a very literal sense (and the first to be released on the Xbox 360), players traverse the province of Cyrodiil with nearly unchecked freedom - completing quests, joining guilds, exploring abandoned areas, and following the main story arc at their own whim and pace. What results is not only a worthy sequel to Morrowind, but a uniquely open-ended single-player adventure.

Crawling your way out of the beginning dungeon in Oblivion is a little like being born. You emerge from the dank, gutted interior of the sewer, pupils still dilated by its depths, and there’s a sense of disorientation as your heels finally touch fertile ground. The sun reflects flawlessly off the lake, endless hills cascade in the distance, and the fields of grass murmur at your feet in the wind, as if to say, “you’re free."

It’s a little like being handed the keys to your first car, in all actuality. Bethesda straps us into a stunning, immersive setting, shows us where a few of the pedals and knobs are, and then lets go completely. It’s something few developers have been able to achieve - to set gamers in a well-developed setting and trust that they’ll be able to enjoy every nook and cranny of the gameplay with only their own instincts to rely on. From the start, Bethesda foregoes a clunky, cumbersome reliance on tutorials and linear missions and lets gamers find their own way in an overwhelming world. Simply put, Oblivion is a game that not only grants players free-reign, but one that genuinely and continually distributes a feeling of freedom in a way that rivals any other title on the market.

It might be considered ironic then, that the first segment finds us locked away in prison – a humble beginning for the heroic quest that follows. Before you grace the lush landscapes of Cyrodiil, you’ll inspect the mortar-lined bricks of a prison wall. Still acquainting yourself with the game’s first-person perspective and controls inside the jail, two guards and a robe-clad man approach the cell bars, warning you to step back. As they enter, the royal-looking fellow introduces himself. It’s Emperor Uriel Septim, and conveniently for you, the king (voiced charmingly by Patrick Stewart) needs to make his escape via a secret passageway that links through your cell. A few dark corridors later, and we’ve tunneled inside the game’s first dungeon.

Worn-down columns and caving catacombs seem even more impressive than the cage you were in a few moments ago. Warm, dynamic light floods the walls as you tread behind the Emperor and his guards, wondering what lies ahead. Suddenly, the party is confronted by attackers - two red-cloaked figures, assassins seeking to end Uriel’s life. Snatch a sword off the first slain enemy, and the game suddenly hits full stride: “How do I fight? Should I protect the Emperor? Where are we going?” Decisions, decisions.

Comparatively, Oblivion is indeed a game of choices. From the get-go, players fine-tune their avatar’s race, age, and an inordinate amount of facial characteristics (down to the hue and saturation of one’s beard). Following the first dungeon, you’ll select a birthsign (granting you different bonuses) and class for your adventurer. Crusader, Pilgrim, Nightblade, Knight, Monk, and Thief are a few of the options, and each one affects your abilities and proficiencies differently.

Unfortunately, the Emperor’s doom is sealed regardless of the class you choose, but before he dies, he entrusts you with a legendary artifact – the Amulet of Kings. This jewel happens to be a rather hot commodity; it turns out that Uriel’s death has granted demons a path into the mortal realm, meaning all sorts of fiery-looking doors are popping up across Cyrodiil. As the only object that can seal these gates to oblivion, you can imagine that Mehrunes Dagon, the evil Daedra Lord behind the siege, would like to get his hands on the amulet.

As compelling and well-conceived as the story is, it isn’t at the heart of Oblivion’s experience - immersion within the gameplay proudly holds that position. From the moment you enter the first town, you become a part of a community – taking quests, joining guilds, making casual conversation with passersby, and resolving petty neighborhood disputes. Later on you’ll venture to oblivion itself to rescue captured soldiers, take on (or join) a league of deadly assassins, and a number of other epic tasks. Diversity and purposefulness within the quests keeps things interesting, and very rarely does a side-story seem formulaic or without purpose. Of course, Oblivion’s stunning graphics help too.

Expansive, flourishing environments wrapped in elegant presentation cover every inch of the game’s world, but for the quantity of depth that Oblivion presents, it does so without replicating too much of its content. Each house, church, and store that you encounter is genuinely different and uniquely representative of its owner. Hundreds of completely individual NPCs make their way through the cities, engaging in small-talk on politics or other topics you can listen in on. Even buildings that share an identical floor plan rarely seem duplicated; Bethesda put a lot of effort into making each square foot of the world feel authentic, and it shows.

What adds to the environs’ beauty even more is how they’re populated with a collection of objects throughout. Walk into a weapon store in the Imperial City and the shopkeep’s wares will be resting on the table before you. Books, beer, jewelry; the array of everyday items (nearly all of which can be interacted with), makes each entry into a building a realistic experience. You truly feel like you’re visiting somewhere. You forget that you’re at the bar to speak to an informant, and get wrapped up in the scene and setting around you. The textures, models, lighting, and other visuals meld together to create a convincing world. The light dispersing around the edges of buildings, the way horses tread through long grass; very little feels static or stitched into the environment, but rather woven together to shape the overall aesthetic of the game.

But don’t think for a moment that Oblivion is all style and no substance. As promised, what makes the game successful is its open-ended concept. Though the story has a tint of linearity to it, what fills each moment is an overwhelming rush of curiosity. Oblivion crafts a rewarding sense of discovery by providing endless avenues for exploration. Tired of running around town, trying to find a certain character to advance the quest? Stuck on a difficult battle? No sweat. Hop on your steed and break through the empty landscape, and eventually you’ll stumble on an abandoned castle or camp waiting to be probed. In an early playing stage of my own, unsure how to advance past a part of my mission, I hijacked a horse and galloped through a southern forest, my steed’s heels kicking through wildflowers as we wandered. Never did meandering feel so seamless. A hollowed castle lied at the bottom of a hill, and a door stood at the foot of the ruins. Dismounting and exploring inward, I found a gang of vampires ransacking the interior, ready to make my acquaintance with fire spells and arrows. It’s these kinds of spontaneous, unprompted scenarios that prevent Oblivion from getting stale as the hours rack up.

What also preserves the taste and texture of the gameplay is Oblivion’s combat system. For those with doubts about a first-person scheme within an RPG, be assured that your hesitancies are unfounded. If you’re a fan of Diablo or World of Warcraft, be prepared to forego the hack/slash tactics you’ve grown accustomed to. A careful use of distance, timing, and position within the 3D space are all critical to survival, as they would be in real combat. Luckily, the controls handle perfectly. The analog sensitivity feels as fluid as it would in a shooter, but without being so loose that moving in the environment is disorienting. The left- and right-triggers control your respective hands, while the right bumper casts spells. The directional pad can also be used to quick-select different weapons or spells on the fly. All in all, battling in Oblivion is dynamic and interesting: the game avoids the repetitive button-mash methodologies standardized in other real-time RPGs, as you’re forced to think on your feet rather than overwhelm your enemies with a superior weapon or strength skill.

On that note, Oblivion’s implementation of stats is creative, and more subtle than what most RPG fans will expect. Instead of having explicit experience points measured on a bar, skills rise naturally depending upon how you approach the gameplay. If you practice stealth and pickpocketing you’ll become more proficient in sneaking. Travel by foot and your athletics skill will be greater. The armor you use, how often you cast spells, the strategies you employ during combat – every major and minor way you play the game is reflected through your stats. This is opposed to other RPGs, where class-based systems leave characters stuck thinking like an archer, a mage, or a paladin. Players approach the game with their own concept of how it should be played, rather than the game spoon-feeding a certain experience to the user.

Though Oblivion crafts a well-rounded and extremely entertaining game, there are a few hiccups along the way, most of which are derived from its epic scale. Load times are generally tolerable, but a downside to sporting such high-end visuals is that the loads happen on the fly. When in the field, scenery will pop into view as you move from area to area, which can cause the game to stutter a bit. Trees, houses, and other landscapes will spring into the environment, emerging out of thin air as they render. It doesn’t detract from the journeying much, but it’s a necessary mechanic that takes a bit of the edge off the otherwise amazing illusion Bethesda has crafted.

Not all of the presentation qualities meld, either. For example, one quest requires that you pickpocket a master thief in order to earn their training. If you fail on one of your attempts to snatch an object from their pocket, the character criticizes you harshly as a common thief, not acknowledging that they just invited you to try and steal from them. Prompt them to try again, and they’ll greet you with a cheerful voice. Obviously not every element of speech is going to fit together perfectly, but there are times that it makes you realize that you’re only interacting with a long list of algorithms and code, not real characters.

By the same token, when you’re making your way through a world this vast, one might expect a few bugs to show up here and there. Items can be duplicated with a certain glitch, a side-quest later on in the game allows you to be continually rewarded after completing it (resulting in unlimited gold), and other random events, like being stuck in the ground hinder the journey every few hours. The game freezes infrequently too. Weather effects, lighting, and multi-character combat stack up to a stammering framerate at different points of the game. Teammate AI itself can be frustrating as well. During some of the story-based missions, you’ll amass a group of followers that engage enemies at will, and they’ll often do so with little regard for their own safety. Teammates tend to rush ahead and either gang up on foes, or get hoarded themselves. Even though you’ll be doing most of the missions in a solo fashion, being able to issue simple commands to your companions is noticeably absent.

Finally, if there’s anything to question about Oblivion’s gameplay concept, it’s the exhausting amount of backtracking you can expect to be doing. An auto-travel feature lightens the load, and stunning graphics will keep you company along the way, but spending more time trying to find a few cloves of garlic than besieging a fort a can prove pretty tiring. It’s a minor, unavoidable effect of the otherwise engrossing depth that the game successfully creates, but it does effect the pacing nonetheless.

More so than most titles, Oblivion is a game whose scope struggles to be measured by words – it’s simply something gamers have to (and should) experience for themselves. Each person’s journey across Cyrodiil is dependant upon not only the choices they make within the gameplay, but their distinct approach to playing in general. Some will get caught up in Oblivion’s dungeons and action elements, others will build their status and stats through investigation, alchemy, and making allies. Like an amusement park, Oblivion grants us entry, and then lets us have at the multiplicity of fun features littered across the landscape

At the same time, the game’s bottomless depth keeps things interesting and on-track. The level of detail and ability to interact with every facet of the environment physically, in terms of reputation, and otherwise makes The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion a one-of-a-kind experience and true next-generation title. Rather than a reiteration of the customs, concepts and capabilities we’ve become familiar with in RPGs, Oblivion is something wholly new and entertaining that advances what freedom can feel like in a video game.

Combat is fun and dynamic. Character-advancement is completely natural and engrossing.

Oblivion achieves near photo-realistic visuals over miles of terrain. A benchmark for the 360.

Top-notch voices backed by scores that don’t get too irritating with hours of play.

Open-ended adventuring at its best. Limitless possibilities met with well-polished gameplay.

Amount of options open to the player lends itself to more than one playthrough.