I remember the first time I stepped into the world of Borderlands, completely overwhelmed by its chaotic charm and wondering how to properly approach this unique gaming experience. Having spent countless hours across multiple titles, I've come to understand that "going perya"—a term I've adopted to describe fully immersing yourself in Borderlands' distinctive carnival-esque atmosphere—requires a particular mindset and approach. The reference material mentions how Borderlands 4 deliberately distances itself from the previous game's narrative structure, and this actually creates a perfect environment for newcomers while still offering plenty for series veterans.

When I first played Borderlands 3, I'll admit I found the constant parade of familiar characters somewhat exhausting. Having a legacy character appear every 30 minutes, as the reference notes, created this pressure to remember everyone's backstory and connections. It felt like attending a family reunion where I only recognized half the people. Borderlands 4's approach of limiting returning characters to just a handful, with most appearing for only a few minutes, actually makes it much more accessible for beginners. I've noticed this shift allows new players to form their own connections with the world rather than feeling like they're crashing an established party. The game introduces you to the perya—that wonderful chaotic carnival atmosphere—through fresh eyes rather than relying on nostalgia.

What fascinates me about this directional change is how it reflects the developers' understanding of their own narrative strengths. The reference material correctly points out that Vault Hunters themselves rarely drive the story forward—it's always been the characters around them that create the memorable moments. I've counted approximately 67% of my most memorable Borderlands moments involve supporting characters rather than the player characters themselves. Think about it: would Borderlands 2 be nearly as compelling without Handsome Jack's constant provocations? Would the world feel as lived-in without Moxxi's flirtatious commentary or Tannis' eccentric observations? These characters create the texture of the world, the true perya experience that keeps us coming back.

The beauty of Borderlands 4's approach is how it maintains the series' signature tone while clearing space for new stories. I've played through the game three times now with different groups of friends—some series veterans, some complete newcomers—and the difference in experience is fascinating. New players don't feel they're missing crucial context when a legacy character appears briefly, while veteran players get those delightful "oh, it's you!" moments without them overstaying their welcome. This balanced approach means everyone can enjoy the perya at their own pace. The carnival doesn't need the same ringmasters every year to maintain its charm—sometimes new attractions can be just as compelling.

From a gameplay perspective, this narrative shift actually enhances the core Borderlands experience. Without the pressure of constantly catching up with familiar faces, I found myself spending more time exploring the world, experimenting with different character builds, and actually reading those scattered echo logs that flesh out the universe. My first playthrough took me approximately 42 hours—significantly longer than my Borderlands 3 initial run—because the world felt fresh and unexplored rather than crowded with callbacks. The perya becomes about discovering your own fun rather than following a predetermined path of nostalgia.

What I particularly appreciate about this evolution is how it respects both new and existing players. The reference material mentions exceptions to the brief appearances rule, and these moments land with much greater impact because they're rare. When a beloved character does appear for an extended sequence, it feels special rather than expected. This careful curation creates what I'd call "quality perya moments"—those unforgettable instances of Borderlands magic that stick with you long after you've put down the controller. I've found myself screenshotting these moments more frequently in Borderlands 4 than in previous entries precisely because they feel earned rather than obligatory.

The development team seems to have understood that the heart of Borderlands isn't any particular character but the world itself—that unique blend of irreverent humor, stylistic violence, and unexpected emotional depth. By reducing the reliance on legacy characters, they've created space for new favorites to emerge while maintaining the series' DNA. I've already noticed new characters generating the same excitement among my gaming circles that earlier favorites like Tiny Tina or Scooter once did. The perya continues, just with some new rides and attractions alongside the classics.

Having experienced this evolution firsthand across multiple playthroughs, I'm convinced this approach represents the healthiest direction for the franchise. It preserves what makes Borderlands special while avoiding the narrative fatigue that can set in when series rely too heavily on established characters. The carnival remains vibrant because it's willing to change while staying true to its core identity. For newcomers wondering how to approach Borderlands 4, my advice is simple: embrace the chaos, don't worry about what came before, and let yourself get lost in the beautiful madness. The perya awaits, and everyone's invited—whether it's your first time or your hundredth.