Summary
It took me several years to appreciate the chaotic beauty ofDragon Age: Origins. There’s so much going on under the hood that determines what kind of playthrough you end up with, and that makes it easy to causea life-altering mistake.
My favourite mistake has stuck with me more than a decade later: fumbling my relationship with Alistair. 15 year old me was obsessed. 25 year old me still is, even though it’s significantly more embarrassing now. And it’s all because I messed everything up.
I loved his dorkiness, his sarcasm, his devotion, but most importantly, his good nature. So, when I got the option to tell him to stop being a big baby and stand up for himself, I obviously didn’t take it. That was my character’s job! I was the hardened city elf, soIwould stand up for him and save the day. It had worked for me in so many other games - my character enters someone’s life and solves all of their problems. Why would it be any different now?
Anyway, fast forward a few hours, and there I am - frantically Googling game guides because my video game boyfriend is breaking up with me. I’d done every quest that remotely involved him, I took him everywhere, I exhausted every dialogue option, and thenI made him king. It should have been a victory! Alas, here my warden was, getting unceremoniously dumped because I’d chosen to make him the king, and Ferelden wouldn’t accept an elf as their queen.
Since I’d opted not to toughen Alistair up earlier, he didn’t accept my proposal for us to stay together on the down low. Why would he? He’d relied on me to do the thinking for us for the whole game, and I’d only encouraged that. Now, societal norms dictated that we had to break up and he was too timid to risk going against them.
It Was Heartbreaking, And More Games Should Do It
This is a core memory for so many of us losers, but it’s something that few games have tried to replicate. But laterDragon Agegames made it much harder to end a romance, unless you were going into it with the worst intentions, and that’s because it’s rare for romanceable characters to have much agency. Frankly, if we can dump them, they should be able to dump us - and for a variety of reasons.
That brings us toDragon Age: The Veilguard. So far, a lot of the hype surrounding the long-awaited sequel has been focussed on its romance options, as for the first time in series history, we can hook up with everyone without any restrictions. Whatever your character’s gender, race, background, or whatever else, they’re down. And that has me terrified.
On the one hand, great, more options. I don’t run the risk of falling for a straight woman for the billionth time in aBioWaregame. I have no issue with this lack of restriction in theory, I just fear what it represents - trying to please as many fans as possible.
There’s a difference between what fans want and what fans need. Many Dragon Age fans still love Origins, and adore the angst of the relationships - especially the various ways you can fail in them can lead you to make decisions you would otherwise avoid. But if you got a bunch of us in a room and asked us what we wanted in a new Dragon Age game, I doubt many of us would pitch being rejected.
We’ve seen that withBaldur’s Gate 3recently. Everyone adores Karlach, but begsLarianto write her a happier ending. They love Astarion, but are frustrated over how hard it can be to romance him when you’re playing as a good character.A patch was addedto allow Minthara to be recruited without needing to align with her devious nature as originally intended. But we love these charactersbecauseof those traits. They wouldn’t be the same without these restrictions. Karlach’s story wouldn’t have the same punch, and Astarion’s character growth would just centre around the player instead. We’d come into their lives and fix everything, rather than be an equal partner on the journey.
Unfortunately, we’ve already seen the Dragon Age series cave to fan desires at the expense of its own storytelling. Cullen once represented the radicalisation of the Templars who start out with good intentions. Then, comeInquisition, he’s largely over this trauma and deep-rooted bigotry against mages because BioWare made the popular decision to make him a romance option. You do get a few unique lines if you’re shacking up with him as a mage, but nothing that comes close to addressing just how difficult that relationship should be.
There’s a difference between what fans want and what fans need.
BioWare isn’t always like this. In the same game, you can only get with Solas if you’re a female elf. It makes sense that this is so specific - Solas very much didn’t join the Inquisition to find love. You are the exception, and having a shared elven heritage is the only way he would realistically open up to another in this way. But increasingly so, this is the exception, not the rule.
It’s no surprise then that David Gaiderobjected to Varric being a romance option. It seems that in many cases, getting a romance path can result in a character having to appeal to so many players that they become overly sanitised. When I’m getting excited about the prospect of my mage Rook hooking up with Lucanis - literally called The Mage Killer - it isn’t because I expect them to have a healthy relationship. Hell, I want it to beharderfor me to get them together, significantly so. But that would be uncomfortable, and I’m not sure I trust a modern RPG to go there.
What I’m getting at is that a good romance doesn’t come at too much of a loss to a character’s agency. Alistair, of course, loses some agency when you romance him in Origins. Whatever ending he gets will tie into the warden to some degree, as they become one of the most important aspects of his life. But this is made up for in what we learn about him through this path - and how it changes his game mechanics.
Take the final boss, for example. If you’ve rejected Morrigan’s ritual and take a romanced Alistair into the Archdemon fight, he will refuse to let you sacrifice yourself. This completely removes an entire ending from you, but it’s in service of showing you the depth of Alistair’s affections. Just like locking players out from being the monarch if they’re anything other than a human noble, we shouldn’t always be in control. Dragon Age is driven by its narrative, and letting that take precedence over player agency at key points leads to more believable and engaging experiences.
Video game romances are about give and take. In the best-case scenario, both the player and the character sacrifice a bit of agency to create a beautiful, memorable story. At worst, the player hogs all the oxygen in the room and the character they fell in love with becomes a pale imitation of what they could have been. I hope this is a lesson that The Veilguard has learned, otherwise, that’s a lot of companions who won’t reach their true potential.
Dragon Age: The Veilguard
WHERE TO PLAY
Dragon Age: The Veilguard is the long-awaited fourth game in the fantasy RPG series from BioWare formerly known as Dragon Age: Dreadwolf. A direct sequel to Inquisition, it focuses on red lyrium and Solas, the aforementioned Dread Wolf.
