The Slipping Weekend and Fable

It's 4 pm on a Sunday and I'm desperately trying to cram in as much "lazy time" as I can from what remains of my weekend. This is the final stretch, the last few days before the faculty's 10th anniversary shebang kicks off (into what may not be) high gear, and I'm taking my final few breaths before Monday comes by yet again.

Throughout most of yesterday I was at work, teaching some school kids a thing or two on multimedia and generally attending to some of the details I have to work at for the "celebrations". Never mind that it's currently mired in several feet of uncertainty and other people's incompetence. The job must get done, or I'll go mad.

On another note, apparently someone's been spreading rumours of my possible resignation next year, since even the department heads have approached me, albeit uncertainly about it. The only thing I can say, I tell them is that we'll see what happens next year. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the meantime, early yesterday evening I finally got my hands on Fable. Four years in the making, not to mention a whole lot of times I went to the local vendors looking for it, and it's finally sitting inside my Xbox where it belongs. To date I've spent 5 hours on it, when there's at least 20 hours of gameplay in there.

Warning: geek gushing ahead.

So why am I so psyched? Simple. Fable is a game that allows the player a modicum of freedom in tackling the challenges it presents. Along the way, these changes shape the opinions of other characters in the game, making them either think the world of you, or you're the shit someone forgot to scrape off their shoes. Kind of like real life, one might say.

For instance, during the early hour of the game my character (a boy, then) was wondering about in his village when I came across a man having a romantic tryst behind one of the houses, while his wife was at work. True to form, the man offered me a cash reward (which I needed to buy a present for my in-game sister) in exchange for my silence, which I eventually took. But even then, when I ran into his wife later on I ratted him out anyway, with the result of her chasing him around town screeching like a fishwife. This is just one example of the surprising morality choices players face when playing the game. Before I leak out too much (I AM supposed to be working on a review for a friend) let's just say there's no right or wrong way to play this game. Take up a quest to protect some traders, but feel free to kill them if you get tired of babysitting. Additionally, your character grows up and (depending on his deeds) either is celebrated with renown or hissed at (both of which have their advantages).

If that doesn't sound like real fun, then I must be irreversibly damaged.

Anyway, it's back to the 'box for me. There's still a smidgen of Sunday left.

I suggest that everyone enjoy theirs, too.

Cheers.