Comme Baldur's Gate 3 fête son premier anniversaire, voici pourquoi nous avons versé un cumulatif 3,550 heures dans le RPG mondial de Larian

I first tried BG3 back when early Alpha builds were available on Steam in 2019, and the leaps and bounds it’s made since then are staggering. Perhaps as close as any game has ever gotten to capturing the spirit not just of D&D but of tabletop gaming as a whole, Baldur’s Gate 3’s strengths are built largely in its willingness to say yes to just about any idea. The game where characters wrestle with trauma, physical mutation and cosmic horror manages to seamlessly share space with Disney characters, bear sex and weaponised hamsters; and somehow it never feels discordant in the least.

That’s no small feat either – the spirit of adventure comes from the idea that we really might discover anything once we set upon the trail. A beach community of confused cod-people worshipping a bad-tempered garden gnome after misreading a religious text is the least of it, but a perfect example of the effort and imagination that Larian put into the game.

While certain other RPG titles that came out around the same time were somewhat predictable and content to follow proven trends, BG3 was pioneering new ground in storytelling systems and creativity. It just refuses to be boring – and for that, I’ll always love it.

I don’t think that a game has ever quite consumed so much of me the way that Baldur’s Gate 3 has managed to – I always seem to go back to living and breathing it, without fail. Each time, I search every nook and cranny despite knowing by now what to expect. Each time, I read through every silly book I come across, whether it be the salt-stained Shanties for the Bitch Queen at the very beginning of the game or the heart-breaking letters scattered throughout all three acts. Each time, I shamelessly romance Astarion. Many of my decisions remain unwavering through each playthrough, but it doesn’t ever matter. En quelque sorte, La porte de Baldur 3 always hits me the way a gust of fresh wind on a hot day does – it leaves me feeling as though I’ve never breathed cleaner air, or experienced a more novel game.

Despite playing the game what feels like a hundred times with (mostly) the same alignment, build, et choix, I never get seem to get bored – and that’s how I know that Baldur’s Gate 3 is brilliant. My ADHD brain often doesn’t allow me to even finish a game, let alone replay it on repeat – but that doesn’t apply to Larian’s banger. I think I love it even more than I love some of my lengthiest Dungeons & Dragons campaigns. That’s all thanks to Larian’s mind-boggingly talented writers and the RPG’s staggering ability to immerse me within all its digital corners of Faerûn from the city to the Underdark – and as long as I can get my weekly fix of banter, blood, and one very handsome vampire, I’ll be one happy adventurer.

La vérité soit dite, I never actually spent that much time in Larian’s RPG after I completed my La porte de Baldur 3 revoir. I’m a person who rarely returns to games at the best of times, and while I dabbled in a Dark Urge playthrough that I still want to return to, something about playing Baldur’s Gate 3 in this particularly intensive way makes diving back in a difficult proposition. In many ways, that’s testament to Larian’s writing – that first playthrough is home to the characters that I built up over those dozens of hours, and I’m loath to change their stories.

But while I’ve not spent that much longer playing La porte de Baldur 3 since launch, I’ve spent a countless amount of time in the year since it came out paying attention to the community around it. Speedrunners, theorycrafters, Multi-Objectif, streamers, moddeurs, and performers have all ensured that a year on, I’m still thinking, parlant, and writing about Baldur’s Gate 3 sur une base hebdomadaire. That kind of longform attention is only paid to a very special kind of game – the likes of Dark Souls, Skyrim, Souffle de la nature – and is testament to the generational quality that Larian was able to bring to bear.

La porte de Baldur 3 wholly consumed my attention last year. Pendant longtemps, I lived and breathed the Sword Coast, and even after many, many playthroughs, I still find myself coming back for more. Pourquoi? Eh bien, there’s a very good reason for that. Not only does Larian’s RPG offer up a frankly impressive amount of choice and variety, but it also sets the stage for an engrossing role-playing experience in a world full of complex, loveable characters and rich storytelling. Larian has created a veritable D&D playground where you can experiment, and you’re almost always rewarded with a new discovery. I was so taken with BG3 and the many paths it lets you walk that I was already planning out my second and third playthroughs within the first 10 minutes.

Aside from the myriad of ways you can play the RPG, the companions turn Baldur’s Gate 3 into something truly special. They’re the game’s beating heart. As someone who always yearns for romance, it’s been such a joy to connect with the characters and be able to see diverse romantic relationships blossom. I’ve come to care for every single one of the possible party members, which speaks to Larian’s strong writing chops and the excellent performances of the actors who brought them to life. I’ve been affected in a very personal way by many of their stories, mais Karlach’s, in particular, made me feel less alone. Et pour cela, I’ll be eternally grateful.

I’ve got a real problem with exploring every nook and cranny when I play pretty much any video game. It’s an awful habit because it means games take me ages to complete and I sometimes wear myself out aimlessly trying to turn over every stone. La porte de Baldur 3, cependant, is such a densely packed, well-engineered, carnival of chaos that I was able to fully indulge in my terribly obsessive exploration and not feel that guilty about it.

Avoiding the beaten path led me to secret declarations of goblin love, a bugbear and an ogre getting it on, sacrificial fish-people rituals in caves, an underwater prison with perhaps one of the most tense and challenging video game encounters I’ve played, et bien plus encore. For every 10 empty or rotting crates I rifled through, I found one totally unexpected encounter that often had me in hysterics or leaning intently towards my monitor because Shadowheart had been incapacitated by some horrific creature for the second time, leaving Lae’zel, my beloved Karlach, and myself with our guts almost hanging out. My only complete Baldur’s Gate 3 Vous l'avez entendu ici la première fois – all 133 hours of it – was one of the most surprising and rewarding experiences I’ve had playing a video game, and yet I still feel like I’ve just scratched the surface in some places.

She who is bored of Baldur’s Gate 3 is bored of life. Je suis not known for having a great attention span, but I don’t think I will ever tire of Larian’s finest. A lot of it, naturally, has to do with the sheer amount of choice available, with class, course, and narrative decisions all culminating in very different experiences when combined. But myriad Tavs later, I’ve only ever had one Dark Urge. My first Baldur’s Gate 3 playthrough has stuck with me since then, setting the stage for it to become my favorite game ever.

Sweetling was a wood half-elf monk with baleful seafoam green eyes and a shock of white hair, neatly tied up lest it get covered in gore and viscera. She was also an utter menace. But not only was I determined to play her as a truly dastardly Durge, I was handicapped as a consequence of being a total noob. In turn, that meant her brand of chaos was particularly brutal. By the time I’d clawed my way to Act 3, one tiefling corpse at a time, I was only level 5. I’d started Act 2 at level 4, for an idea of just how much I was racing through this behemoth of a game at the most haphazard speed possible. The moment I really fell in love with it, quoique? When Sweetling became Bhaal’s Slayer, his Chosen, and set out to destroy the Gate in his name. I finished that 57-hour playthrough almost a year ago today, and still couldn’t be prouder of my little diminutive psychopath. La vérité soit dite, I think I’m still chasing that high.

Though Baldur’s Gate 3 was playable in Early Access from 2020, myself and one of my best friends promised to wait until its full release to play, worrying that we’d burn out before getting to play the full thing. We kept that promise for three years, but less than two weeks before Baldur’s Gate 3’s launch, my friend died unexpectedly. It felt like the world collapsed, and when I returned to work some time later, I worried that reviewing Baldur’s Gate 3 without him would be too painful.

Plutôt, the richness of Faerûn became a refuge during the lowest point of my life. Like millions of other players, I laughed and cried my way through the Forgotten Realms like nothing that had come before. On a mechanical level, I’ve never played a game with so much freedom – I’ve lost track of how often I’ve shoved would-be minibosses off cliffs, or smugly teleported over lethal floor traps instead of disarming them. But it’s the companions, who have each lost so much yet still teach us to cling to optimism and keep loving – even after grievous loss, even when it would be easier to stop – who are truly dear to me. Over the last year, I’ve played Baldur’s Gate 3 again and again to remind myself of that – and I’ve only grown to love it more with every playthrough.