As a kid, Below the Root felt like a secret world that lived inside my computer. I had not read the books yet when I first played, but the game was so captivating that I asked my parents to buy them for me just so I could learn more about the game world that I loved so much. It was one of the first games that made me feel like I was visiting a place rather than beating a level. (There is a three-book series set in this world, the Green Sky Trilogy, and the author considered the game a canonical continuation of the story.)
What grabbed me most was the freedom. You could wander almost anywhere, climb and glide through treetops, poke into odd corners, and stumble onto hidden paths. People actually had things to say, and when you advanced your character enough, you could even use your skills to sense the emotions or thoughts of those you spoke with. Every so often I would find a tucked-away area or an unexpected shortcut and it felt like discovery, not a scripted moment, even though many of them were.
It also respected the player. There weren't any flashing arrows telling you exactly what to do, so you learned by exploring, experimenting, and paying attention. I made my own maps, retraced my steps, and slowly connected the world in my head. The game shipped with a large map, but I did not have the map or the manual as a kid, so I figured it out entirely on my own. The game rewarded curiosity and exploration, much like the second Ultima trilogy.
Sure, by modern standards it looks dated, but even against its peers from that era it stood out! The atmosphere and openness came together into something memorable. It seemed to go on forever, not because it was endless, but because it left room for my imagination to keep running.
I still play it every few years on my old Apple IIe, and every time I do, it feels like coming home. While I definitely view it through rose-tinted glasses, I still think it is one of the best games of its type to come out of the 1980s.