Risen Impressions, Continued

Rock, Paper, Shotgun continues to offer up their impressions of Piranha Bytes’ Risen in a fifth installment that focuses on an encounter with Master Alric.

Then I meet Alric. The arsehole. As well as being Captain Grumpy From Grumpyland, he repeatedly insists I call him ‘˜Master’. Well, no. I’m not doing that not for you, not for anyone. Apart from possibly for Jon Pertwee, but he’s dead now. Alric gets more and more pushy, but I refuse to yield to his ego. That’s when he tells me to sweep the floor.

!

Now listen, matey. I know Risen’s is supposed to be a harsh world, but I’m here for the fantasy escapism, not menial housework. I barely ever sweep my own floor, y’know? The bugger won’t even give me a broom, a situation I eventually resolve with a midnight pick-pocketing spree. (Speaking of which, one upside of my having rather unorthodoxly already done most of the Harbour City quests is that I’m fairly well-trained in lockpicking and pickpocketing. This makes the Monastery something of a treasure trove for me had I been caught or wandered over here straight away, it would have been a frustrating world of locked-tight mystery.) I’m furious, and this makes me do something out of character. I look around. Coast is clear. Stab.

This is very, very naughty of me. But I can’t pretend I’m not enjoying it, especially as the game’s oft-screwy clipping means he’s ended up with his face stuck inside a wardrobe door and can’t hit back. Down he goes, and leaves behind a supremely tasty sword. I grab it, then brace myself for trouble. This surely won’t go unpunished in this guard-filled place.

No-one comes for me. Alric eventually gets up, as most non-monster NPCs do in Risen, and he doesn’t try to take another pop at me. When I try to talk to him, he doesn’t say anything. My finger hovers over quickload, unsure. Is this a bug? A taciturn agreement that I’m the better man? I check my journal alas, my floor-sweeping task remains. Hmm.