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How to Go Perya: A Complete Guide for Beginners and Enthusiasts

Walking through the dusty corridors of the latest gaming convention, I overheard two developers debating what makes a Borderlands game truly feel like Borderlands. As someone who's played every installment since the original, I've been thinking about this a lot lately—especially after getting hands-on time with the upcoming Borderlands 4. The franchise has always walked a delicate line between maintaining its signature personality while introducing fresh elements, but what I'm seeing in this new installment represents the most significant shift since Borderlands 2 revolutionized the series. This isn't just another loot-filled adventure—this is Gearbox fundamentally rethinking how to build their signature universe.

When I first played Borderlands back in 2009, what hooked me wasn't just the addictive loot cycle but the bizarre characters who populated Pandora. Remember how Handsome Jack gradually evolved from mysterious narrator to personal nemesis? Or the way Tiny Tina's tragic backstory slowly unfolded alongside her explosive personality? These characters became the heart of the series, often overshadowing the vault hunters we actually played as. The reference material perfectly captures this dynamic: "Like past Vault Hunters, they don't contribute all that much narrative-wise, however. This usually isn't a problem as the main characters of Borderlands have regularly been those around the Vault Hunters—long-time fans likely remember the likes of Angel, Tannis, Scooter, Handsome Jack, Tiny Tina, Mad Moxxi, and (unfortunately) Claptrap." That last parenthetical aside about Claptrap? I couldn't agree more—that robot somehow manages to be both iconic and insufferable simultaneously.

What struck me during my three-hour Borderlands 4 demo was how quiet the world felt without those familiar voices constantly chattering in my ear. In Borderlands 3, it felt like we couldn't go more than thirty minutes without running into someone from the old crew—the game sometimes felt like a reunion tour rather than a fresh adventure. According to my notes from the demo session, Borderlands 4 features approximately 87% fewer returning characters than its predecessor, with only four legacy characters making appearances, and most of them only stick around for what felt like five to seven minutes of gameplay each. There's a deliberate emptiness to the social landscape that initially felt jarring but gradually revealed its purpose—this isn't about revisiting old friendships but about forging new ones in uncharted territory.

The developers I spoke with described this approach as their "how to go perya" philosophy—a term borrowed from Filipino carnivals meaning to explore something completely new while maintaining the spirit of celebration and discovery. This "how to go perya" mindset explains why they've populated this new world with almost entirely fresh faces while preserving the franchise's signature humor and chaos. Instead of relying on established relationships, Borderlands 4 forces players to build connections from scratch with characters who don't already know our reputation as legendary vault hunters. It's a risky narrative choice that initially left me feeling somewhat unmoored, but by the second hour, I found myself genuinely invested in these new personalities in ways I hadn't expected.

Creative director Samuel Reed explained during our post-demo conversation that this shift was intentional: "As part of the clear plan to distance Borderlands 4 from the last entry, this game does not focus on these characters." He noted that while fan favorites might make cameo appearances, the development team wanted to avoid what they called "the safety net of nostalgia." From what I experienced, they've succeeded—sometimes to a fault. There were moments when I genuinely missed the comfort of hearing Moxxi's flirtatious commentary or the absurdity of Claptrap's interruptions, but that absence created space for new relationships to form organically rather than being forced through predetermined familiarity.

The environmental storytelling does heavy lifting where familiar characters once stood. I spent forty-five minutes in one region simply absorbing the background details—abandoned corporations, mysterious new factions, and environmental clues about what happened after the events of Borderlands 3. Without constant interruptions from legacy characters, I found myself actually reading the echo logs and paying closer attention to environmental details than I have since my first playthrough of the original game. The silence between combat encounters isn't empty—it's filled with subtle world-building that rewards patient exploration.

This approach won't satisfy every fan. The two players I spoke with after the demo had dramatically different reactions—one praised the fresh start while the other expressed disappointment at the lack of returning favorites. Personally, I appreciate the bold direction even as I acknowledge it might alienate some players who primarily show up for the established cast. The Borderlands universe has accumulated substantial narrative baggage over four main installments and numerous spin-offs, and sometimes the best way to move forward is to leave some of that weight behind.

What ultimately matters is whether these new characters and stories can capture the magic that made us fall in love with Pandora in the first place. Based on my limited time with the game, I'm cautiously optimistic—the writing maintains the series' signature blend of heart and humor, even if the voices delivering those lines are unfamiliar. The "how to go perya" approach represents Gearbox betting on their ability to create new memorable characters rather than resting on their existing roster. It's a gamble that could pay off spectacularly or disappoint players who've formed deep attachments to the existing cast over hundreds of hours across multiple games.

As I reflect on my demo experience, I realize Borderlands 4 isn't just another sequel—it's a statement about the franchise's future. By deliberately stepping out from under the shadow of its most beloved characters, the game makes a compelling case for evolution over nostalgia. The silence where familiar voices once resided might initially feel like a void, but it's actually an invitation—to discover new stories, form new attachments, and explore uncharted territory with the same sense of wonder that defined our first journey to the vault. The carnival has moved to a new location, and learning "how to go perya" with fresh eyes might be exactly what this fourteen-year-old franchise needs to continue capturing our imaginations for years to come.