By the time I reach the gates of the Outer Ring, I've made my peace with Gothic 1 Remake. I have no map. I have no weapon. I have no money (or, in this case, ore nuggets). But what I do have is a pair of bugged-out molerats following me into the camp, screeching all the while.
I'd just made the apparent mistake of wandering into the underbrush near the camp's south gate, where two ugly, toothsome beasts immediately took note of me. Eyeless though they were, their hooked snouts clearly scented my "freshie" status as a newly-delivered Convict trapped behind the magical barrier that has rendered the land within a subdivided prison colony. But, the molerats don't attack. Instead, they snap their jaws angrily – or perhaps excitedly – with due reverence for my gloriously drab attire and complete lack of worldly possessions. I take a step, and so do they. I run a few paces, and they follow suit.
