I have decided to stay in The Old Republic, my lust for striking down Imperial fodder not yet sated. In truth, as much as I enjoy the sight and sound of the greatest weapon ever conceived, I stay for two reasons; the engaging way the locals ask for my help and, more importantly, to see how much the Hutts have affected the Universe.
Much like the last world I visited, The Old Republic had undergone a radical change in my absence. Gone are the traditional aides you have as you travel, replaced with an increasingly popular structure to allow warriors to enter the realm without the necessity to pay a contributing fee. I am still undecided whether these peasant warriors are an advantage or hindrance to the world, but I cannot argue that their increased numbers make it a more colourful journey. If nothing else, it is often amusing to watch them beg for help from Founders such as I.
As I continue familiarising myself with the changes, I treat myself to a look at the Cartel Market. Not one to traditionally spend a lot of credits in this area of any realm, this one particularly interests me. The OldRepublic has introduced the Cathar, a race of cat-like beings only seen as locals so far. The fact that you can now travel the world as this race is not the interesting thing, however. No, the interest comes from ‘The Powers That Be’ who deem it necessary to pay to have access to this race. As if it is not bad enough that I am contributing a monthly fee, but that I am now required to part with more of my cash is unacceptable.
I have yet to see a Cathar warrior on my travels thus far, not even among the freeloading travellers who populate this world. Time will tell whether this was a good choice.
When I first returned I found myself on Taris, a planet of destructive beauty. It reminds me of a time when I was here many cycles ago, travelling as a mere Knight of the OldRepublic. Then, Taris was a sprawling city planet much like Coruscant. Today, lush green pushes through the remains of the city. Destructive beauty really is a fitting term. Having completed my journey here, I board my ship and depart Taris for the bright lights of Nar Shaddaa. I love the way I can move from planet to planet, opening up an entire Universe for me to travel around. In reality, it is no different to moving between different continents on other worlds, but the way they do it here is very… desirable.
Nar Shaddaa is bright. Taking my first steps onto the pavilion sears the image into my soul in more than a metaphorical way. I have visited many worlds in my travels, but none have come close to amount of colours on display here. It is a city much like Coruscant, and the quests are laid out in much the same way with tunnels and underground sectors either over run by gangs or taken over by the Imperials. The lights really do make a difference, and as I slay my way through the earlier areas, I can’t help but think that without the contrast, this would have been another bland area. It certainly makes a change from all the foliage I’ve seen recently.
I give my eyes time to adjust. Dirt, blood, grease, bile – I have had all of these spurt over my eyes before, but they were not prepared for this different type of searing. When I have finally adjusted to the magnitude of neon and take in the splendour of the scenery, I begin to scythe my way through the planet. The inhabitants here seem more useless that on other planets, more susceptible to cowering from the enemy and begging warriors for aid. I oblige, naturally, but it shakes me down to the core to see so many worthless beings.
I have been fighting with a thorn in my side since my return, and it isn’t until I power through Nar Shaddaa that I realise what it is. In my short time back, I have ploughed through fodder like a lightsaber through bone. As much as the world has endeared itself to me, there is little challenge as I progress through the ranks. There are some comical moments when the obvious is spelled out, ‘someone has taken something, I have to get it back’, but I feel as if this is a world geared towards nursing warriors rather than challenging them. It is, simply put, easy.
That’s the only problem I’ve had in The Old Republic. I am powerful, always have been, but the fodder they put in front of me provide no more of a challenge than a level 1 boar. I fear I am in danger of becoming soft on this world. I adore it, but I think the time has come for me to seek a real challenge.
I hear of a world where many warriors have fallen, repeatedly, yet continually return for the glory. It intrigues me. This may be the challenge I have yearned for, and with lightsaber in hand I head towards the new world. I will return, I love this world too much to stay away, and when I do I will be stronger than ever.
My name is Kallam. I am a warrior. I am prepared to die.