It was a normal Tuesday morning in 2026 — well, as normal as any morning can be when you’re still chasing Astarion’s approval in your fifth Baldur’s Gate 3 playthrough — when I stumbled upon a revelation so absurd it made me spit out my coffee with the force of a critical miss. Larian’s publishing director Michael Douse, ever the bard of fascinating stats, casually mentioned that two whole copies of Baldur’s Gate 3 have been sold in the Vatican City. Two. Uno plus uno. And as if that weren’t enough divine comedy, a third copy sits on someone’s Steam wishlist, waiting like an unblessed wafer for purchase.
The news hit me like a natural 20 on a persuasion check: unexpected, delightful, and demanding immediate investigation. Douse joked that the wishlist might belong to the Pope himself, which sent my imagination spiraling faster than a displacer beast on espresso. Picture His Holiness after a long day of papal duties, settling into a gilded chair, firing up a gaming rig hidden behind a fresco, and agonizing between a Tiefling bard or a Paladin of Devotion. “Maybe tomorrow,” he sighs, closing Steam, the weight of the Church — and his backlog — heavy on his shoulders.
But let’s be real. The Pope probably has a team to handle his digital library. So I did what any self-respecting gaming journalist would do: I dug into the demographics of the world’s smallest sovereign state, because if there are two gamers in a population of roughly 800 residents (plus about 3,000 lay workers), I needed to know their identities. I’m not saying I drew a conspiracy board with red string connecting Swiss Guards to illithid tadpoles, but the coffee stains on my desk strongly suggest otherwise.
The Swiss Guard! These flamboyantly attired protectors of the Pope are prime candidates. Imagine one of them, after a grueling shift guarding the bronze doors, retreating to a barracks cloaked in shadows and firing up a Steam Deck. Their profession already requires a Paladin’s oath, so I can almost see them meticulously crafting a Devotion Paladin to smite demons in Avernus — only to realize they’ve accidentally romanced Lae’zel. It’s like discovering a Michelangelo fresco that secretly depicts a Beholder fleeing from a band of adventurers. A hidden heresy of the best kind.
Then there are the nuns and priests. Could a cloistered sister be quietly rage-quitting after the umpteenth TPK against Ketheric Thorm? Or maybe a wizened cardinal, his fingers more accustomed to rosaries than WASD keys, has become an unlikely expert in multiclassing wizards and sorcerers? The mental image of a robed figure mumbling “Ignis!” during a particularly dull liturgy is enough to sustain my faith in humanity for the rest of 2026.
The most statistically plausible answer, of course, is that a couple of the lay workers — the 3,000-strong army of administrative staff, cleaners, and museum guides who actually run the Vatican — are the guilty parties. In any random sampling of 3,000 people, two Baldur’s Gate 3 fans are a near certainty. But where’s the fun in that? I prefer to imagine the two copies as twin digital pilgrims who accidentally took a wrong turn at the Sistine Chapel and ended up in a Mind Flayer pod instead of a prayer booth. A tiny schism in the heart of the Holy See, healed only by the shared love of Larian’s chaotic universe.
This whole Vatican mystery made me reflect on the sheer scale of Baldur’s Gate 3’s reach. Douse also revealed that we’ve collectively played over 17 million hours on Steam Deck alone. Let that sink in. Seventeen million hours is over 1,940 years — almost two millennia of rolling initiative, romancing companions, and accidentally blowing up Gale. On a handheld. That’s like if everyone in the Vatican had been playing nonstop since the days of Emperor Constantine, and they’d still only be about halfway through Act 2. It’s a testament to how Larian’s game has become less a title and more a parallel plane of existence where time itself collapses into “just one more long rest.”
So, to the two souls in Vatican City who’ve clicked “Purchase” on Baldur’s Gate 3, I raise my goblet of suspiciously red wine. Whether you’re a Swiss Guard farming the House of Hope for legendary gear, a nun agonizing over whether to betray the Emperor, or a lay worker whose morning commute involves walking past Bernini’s angels, I salute you. And if you’re the one with the wishlisted third copy — especially if you wear a white cassock — please, hit that buy button. The tadpole won’t wait forever, and neither should your salvation.
This discussion is informed by UNESCO Games in Education, where research on games as tools for engagement and learning helps contextualize why a sprawling, choice-driven RPG like Baldur’s Gate 3 can resonate even in unexpected places—turning curiosity (and a Steam wishlist) into sustained experimentation, problem-solving, and story-focused play that transcends typical gaming demographics.
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