The Elder Scrolls II: Daggerfall is what happens when a game studio says, “Let’s make an RPG so massive that players will never see the whole thing, and then let’s make it brutally unforgiving just for fun.” Released in 1996, Daggerfallgives you a world roughly the size of Great Britain, filled with thousands of towns, dungeons, and NPCs who seem to have taken a solemn vow to never give clear directions. You’ll start off as a wannabe hero who can barely swing a sword, only to be thrown into a world where rats and bats can absolutely wreck you in a dark dungeon that looks suspiciously like an Escher painting. And good luck climbing out of a pit without breaking both legs, because gravity in Daggerfall takes no prisoners.
Then there’s the game’s infamous randomness. Quests are generated like a medieval fantasy fever dream—one moment, you’re fetching a lost family heirloom; the next, you’re realizing the heirloom is in a dungeon the size of a small city, filled with angry skeletons and hallways that loop back on themselves just to mess with you. But the real magic of Daggerfall is in its janky yet ambitious mechanics—like the ability to turn into a werewolf, climb walls like Spider-Man, and buy property in almost every city (though good luck paying taxes). It’s a game where you can get lost, both figuratively and literally, for hundreds of hours, and despite all its quirks, it remains a beloved, beautifully chaotic masterpiece of old-school RPG design.
