In memory of Warren Clyde

I just can’t stop playing Far Cry 2, but I have a couple of problems writing this post. Firstly, I haven’t been taking screenshots of what’s been going on. It’s just not something I’ve thought about while I’ve been playing. Dam immersion. Secondly, I can’t tell you what’s been going on without massive spoilers. It’s a tough line to find of what to tell you and what not, so I’ll be extra cautious. These two things, I’m afraid, are going to result in a bit shorter and a bit vaguer post. Therefore, as an apology/remedy, I’ll be ‘making’ the screenshots/pictures myself.

My team is dead. They are all dead. After having quite a moral choice put on my shoulders, I attempted to save my brothers in arms. I failed and they all died. Dam it! My finger hovered over the quick load key for a while, but refused to press it. It would defeat the point if I didn’t let my actions create consequences. In fact I’m yet to quick load, and it’s been a superb experience. And anyway, fighting your way out of the mess you have created is what it’s all about. Poor Warren Clyde though…I’ll miss him…and it’s all my fault!

Far Cry took pity and pushed two new friends on me quickly. I don’t really know how me and Andre (the black guy with dreadlocks), became chums. I met him in a hospital very briefly, and now he will willingly risk his life to come save me. Nasreen, my new female best friend, I can sort of understand. We stole a boat together, but she tainted our friendship when she sent me off ‘in front’ when a town with a cease-fire decided it didn’t like being under cease-fire anymore. Bitch. We have made up since then though (if you count making up as me killing lots and lots of people while she hid, ultimately saving her life). In the end though, while I thought no-one could replace Warren, I’m starting to like these two.

One major thing that has happened, for me anyway, was that I made a moral choice…because I wanted to. I was offered a job to take out the means of production for Malaria pills. The other faction to the one that offered me the job was producing these pills, and the general population was liking them more because of it. My job was basically to stop that happening. My reaction to my potential employer was three fold.

1. People will die so you can ‘get one over’ on the other faction
2. I have malaria and don’t want to shorten the circulation of medicine
3. Fuck you! I’m not doing it.

I went to the ‘other faction’ for a job instead. What they offered was also morally dubious, but it involved soldiers dying instead of the innocent public…and me. Does this mean I’ve become….a goodie? With all the murdering I’ve done, I don’t think so.