To discover (forget) that Skyrim is celebrating it’s tenth anniversary is both sobering and terrifying. It’s ubiquity has ascended to heights rarely seen in gaming. Revered to such echelons, that even the mightiest “Thu’um” would be but a distant whisper. I don’t know what’s more impressive; the lasting, meme inspiring legacy, or how Skyrim has propagated a variation of itself over several platforms that I’d be surprised if every hotel room didn’t come supplied with a copy of it in the bedside drawer. Skyrim has endured, despite Bethesda’s renowned negligence in optimising its games with any competency. But it’s credit to Skyrim’s resilient charm and immersive continent, that can be explored at your own discretion, that has afforded it such universal recognition.

There’s a comfort to the familiarity. An earnest conviction that manifests beneath the antiquated graphics and surface level combat. Playing it now, I feel that Skyrim might be more endearing than it has ever been. The province looks as vast and as treacherous as it did when I first emerged from the caves beneath the smouldering remains of Helgen. Clutching my Bow and a handful of coins, apprehensive, yet exhilarated at the prospect of exploring this expansive and unknown region. That sense of wonder is still there, as is the compulsion to do the same things again. I think that’s the beauty of it really, that no two people will play the game the same way. Some may vary where they go, what weapons to use or what attributes to refine. If you’re anything like me, upon escaping Helgen you might venture to Riverwood, retrieve the golden claw and DragonStone tablet from the bowls of Bleak Falls Barrow, before returning these artefacts to there respective beneficiaries and depart on another thrilling pilgrimage.

What astounds me most isn’t Skyrim’s prevailing admiration among its fans, but that in the 10 years since its release I have:

• Been approved for a mortgage.

• Moved house.

• Bought a PlayStation 4.

• Learnt to drive.

• Became a father.

• Changed jobs.

• Bought a PlayStation 5.

• Survived a global pandemic.

• And purchased Skyrim on 3 different platforms.

But whether it was on my ageing PS3, being mesmerised by VR or with the Switch while taking a dump, Skyrim has always been immersive. Inflicting untold knee injuries, bartering with irascible merchants, visiting the cloud district and killing the witless inhabitants of Tamriel that believes that the wind is Michael Myers. So let’s raise a glass of Skooma, plunder the carcass of your nearest slain dragon a give a loud resounding “Thu’um!” to one of the greats!

What are your fondest memories of playing Skyrim? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.