
Instead, you create mods that are added onto the top and can be switched on or off individually, stacking them up to create whatever Skyrim experience you want. The master data file is locked down and you don't get to mess with it. The good news is that nothing you do in Creation Kit can break the main game - at least, not permanently. It's all there to be played with, and in case you haven't noticed, Skyrim is a pretty big game.

It's the same tool that Bethesda itself used to create Skyrim (at least, officially - there's always a chance it just pressed a big red 'Make Game' button and this is all a big ruse) and opening it up is to see the whole thing laid out in front of you.

Make no mistake, the Creation Kit is amazing - but it's also incredibly intimidating. Did I have what it took to be its master? I tinkered a bit with the previous version in Fallout: New Vegas, but that game's world of radioactive dirt and cold metal simply has nothing on the epic sweeps of Tamriel's chilliest corner. Skyrim is a world I've spent many, many hours exploring, questing my way through, and burning fools with fireballs for my own amusement and sometimes justice.

Specifically, sitting down with a pen to watch a couple of hours worth of YouTube videos created by Bethesda, with the goal of transforming its Creation Kit from "Oh my god." to "Oh, I see!" My latest trip back to Skyrim didn't start with a dragon attack.
