The general writing style, which would stick with Piranha Bytes henceforth, also emphasised the dichotomy between the vulgar and the fantastical very well, as you'd be coming across various really colourful characters, who are, on the one hand, rather typical pompous mages, brutal thugs, dumb peons -, but on the other, extremely believable and amusing.

But Gothic's biggest strength was not just showing you this strange prison colony, but also letting you visit its every nook and cranny. The world of Gothic was simply massive, as well as beautiful, with tons of places to check out, beasts to murder, secret caverns to penetrate and ancient tombs to raid. And above all, it was handcrafted, full of verticality and almost without barriers, so you could just go off and explore whatever you wanted – provided you could survive.

And that was where Gothic was tricky, because surviving was a lot harder than in most games. You know it isn't fooling around when your first opponent is a turkey that can horribly murder you in a few hits. And it was this ridiculous brutality that gave the game most if its unique charm. It simply didn't cut you any slack. If you wanted to get somewhere, you had to work for it, and the simple thought that straying off the beaten path could mean certain death made every step into the wilderness something special. Especially at night. Through a forest. With no map.

The key to thriving was to quickly get better gear, beg people to train you in combat and master the fighting system, which I consider one of the best ones in Action RPG history. At first it seems clunky and unresponsive, but, once you get accustomed to it and take on harder opponents, every fight becomes an adrenaline-pumping effort where every mistake could mean death. Various enemies would also fight in different ways, and force you to adopt new tactics.