Remaking a game as beloved as Baldur's Gate is a road fraught with peril. It's 14 years old, it's got old mechanics, heck it's even got old Dungeons & Dragons rules. Time stands still in memories, but exhume a legend like that and in the harsh light of 2012 you risk it looking a bit rotten, whatever the spirit lingering within. So why do it? I mean, you can buy Baldur's Gate on Good Old Games for half the price and it'll work on all current Windows builds - it isn't dead and buried along with some obscure, archaic system.
I've really set myself up for a fall this time. It's just not that I have to tell you how much the Baldur's Gate games meant, or still mean, to me. It's not just that I have to explain how they're tied to key events in my life, or that even now a single sound, quote or strain of music can still take me back. It's that I have to communicate my depth of feeling without making you think that I am a madman. A crackpot. A total nut.
Have you ever wondered what your doctor thinks about while they're poking and prodding you? If you lived in Edmonton, Canada, in the mid '90s there's a chance your doctor was thinking, "Gee, I wish I was making computer games instead of rummaging inside this diseased colon". At least, that's how it might have played out if you were the patient of Dr Greg Zeschuk, Dr Ray Muzyka or Dr Augustine Yip. And if you had a diseased colon.