Who knew that the business of saving the world from unfathomable evil involved so many frequent episodes of lubricious boot-knocking? No, I don’t want to be the object of your fleshly desires. No, now is not the time for a quick roll in the haystack. Honestly Shadowheart, what would Lady Shar say? Hey, if you find that you’re capable of simmering down that aura of pseudo-Edward Cullen vampiric Wattpad nonsense, there’s a Druid Grove in prompt need of saving.
Oh, to be an unwitting adventurer in a time-forgotten land of idyllic, swashbuckling bravado.
There’s always been something inexplicably thrilling about initiating a romantic affair with an attractive, pixelated member of your desired sex in a digital world. Maybe it’s the enchanting prospect of feeling something vaguely erotic when you engage in witty banter thanks to pre-written, but nonetheless snappy, dialogue. Maybe Romanticism has ruined us all, and upon the terrifying realization that those perfect encounters against the downpour under the awning of a majestic manor — preferably from the Edwardian period — never happen in real life, we’ve all simply decided to settle for the closest substitute: The make-believe exercise of creating the perfect moment via your in-game avatar. You are that person, after all, at least in the moment when it counts.
It’s an amusing exercise, a non-zero-sum game that couldn’t possibly end in disaster. And so, most RPG games have opted to exaggerate the “Romance” option to give you the fantasy, as opposed to the subtle role-play found, ironically, in the real-world counterpart of the practice.
Not that we’re complaining. Whatever rules may govern human interaction in real life, they shouldn’t apply to their recreational pastimes. What’s so hilarious about Baldur’s Gate 3 in this regard, however, is that it exaggerates the seemingly Medieval but certainly ancient Greek-inspired courtship to levels of parody.
Here I was worried that I’d alienated all my companions, only to learn that practically all of them would try to jump my bones at some point in the story. And that’s not all. You can leave a string of extremely weird one-night stands in your wake as you progress through the game, at moments feeling the conspiratorial touch of daring developers who maybe, just maybe, were wondering how much they could get away with if they really tried.
I find that my epic Baldur’s Gate 3 journey hasn’t been one of contemplation, but of indulgence. Did I find the opportunities thrilling, or was I simply curious to know how far they would push the envelope? I guess I’ll never know for sure, but I’m fairly certain that this game makes it incredibly difficult for me to remain a paragon of virtue as I had in countless other RPGs before it.
And for that, I probably love it more.
