It never fails to amuse: I’m sneaking my through some of Skyrim’s gorgeous terrain, bypassing enemy after enemy, when a band of suicidal bandits somehow spots me and decides to end their lives. Messily. Instead of allowing me and my vampire sidekick to pass by peaceably.
She’s an unpleasant person, who can suck your life force away with one hand, and magically throw ice spears the size of your arm with the other. And then, once she kills you, things get really nasty. She raises your cooling corpse, your spirit trapped inside, and forces you to attack your former comrades.
And, of course, I’m a typical PC, a whirling dervish of death and mayhem, as adept with burning, freezing, electrocuting magic as I am with the magical, glowing, life-sucking sword I’m carrying. We’re not nice people, is the point I’m trying to make.
You’d think, all else being equal, people would be excited, keen even, to let the two of us go our merry way in peace. You’d think that, but apparently the poor bastards wandering the Nord wilderness don’t agree.
So they pick a fight. And we eradicate them and rob their bodies. (Because kill Evil and take its stuff.) And the wilderness is slightly safer for everyone else.
But you got to wonder, what if they were slightly smarter bandits, bandits who’d see a vampire with glowing eyes and a masked, armored, anonymous killer with glowing hands and a glowing blade and decide “Maybe not today.” What a wonderful world that would be.