intpstyle

DA:TV Spoilers ahead!

Pt. 1 is here, Pt. 2 is here

The capital-h Hero brings me to the second point: community. One could argue that Rook simply doesn’t have the luxury of breaking – there is too much on their shoulders. The game drops multiple hints in that direction, but (again) doesn’t seem to fully commit to the idea. Just one scene of Rook pacing their room, frantically going over battle plans, tossing in their sleep (even just staring out into their aquarium with a furrowed brow for a particularly stoic Rook - anything!) before a companion knocks and they put on their smiley/calm “Yes, I am the boss and have all the answers” demeanour would have been worth gold. What a fantastic opportunity, too, to have them break in front of their Love Interest and their Love Interest alone! As some other reviewers have already mentioned, I also would have loved ANY codex entry mention of the other companions being worried about Rook. As it is, Rook stands alone.

This is reinforced by the game mechanic that only allows Rook to eavesdrop on conversations in the Lighthouse rather than join them, the odd mirthless reactions when you buy companions gifts, the much-maligned book club that never asked you to join, etc. I was also missing a scene like the Inquisition card game that showed everyone just …hanging out. If there is enough time in-between the world saving business for a book club, there is enough time for a shared meal or two, maybe with storytelling and reflecting on the adventures the team has already overcome. Before the final battle, Solas says something to the effect of Elgar’nan choosing only pawns that grasp for power like him, while Rook has assembled a team of skilled professionals and invested in their skills, which is why they will win. And … yes. But for my taste, the game does not invest enough on either side of heavy is the crown; leaders stand alone // we win with the power of friendship; we’re like a family! When escaping from Fade Prison, we see the hands reaching for Rook and can piece together that they have been gone for weeks, but why not show us the moment Rook tumbles through, back into the Lighthouse, back home, and their team huddles around them with victory cries? Say what you will about The Dawn Will Come (or even the jailbreak scene in Origins!), but there is no scene that fullfils a similar function here. All we get are (hilarious!) snippets of Venatori fangirling over Rook, but when has Rook reached this level of prominence? Where are the in-between steps?

All that to say: once again mirroring Solas, but not in a great way, both Rook and Solas stand alone. While I appreciate the story for Solas we got, it is a shame that his vast elven network did not play any role in the plot, and it is a shame that Rook does not seem to be affected by the juicy parts of having to move on from anything ever, leaving them somewhat removed and in an almost supervisory position towards the other companions (which is also not explored in much depth). The main theme of Mythal relieving Solas of his sole responsibility and guilt, and Rook helping every companion with their quest is that “you don’t have to go through this alone. We can move on together.” I just wish this had been stressed more, particularly in regard to Rook.

One last thought on choices: another change that could have taken this game to the next level would be to commit to the follow-through of danger. I loved D’Meta’s Crossing and was so excited to get into “real” Dragon Age territory, but the fantastic build-up with shuffling through the dripping blight and people losing their minds left and right should have been a high-adrenaline boss fight or cut scene, not a rather tame moral decision on leaving the mayor to his fate or not. Same for Mila, the girl in Weisshaupt – she’s a brilliant character and adds real tension to the siege, but to not have a single scene where she’s truly in danger? Missed opportunity.

Anyway, it is easy to criticise a cake when it stands baked before you, and considering that the oven was malfunctioning, that the ingredients were hard to get, that the chefs were underpaid and overworked, and that the restaurant owner at some point wanted a soufflé, it is still a damn fine cake. Every creator puts themselves in their creations to some degree, so I wonder if there isn’t also a sad and rather obvious reason why Rook feels so under-pressure, unallowed-to-break, and alone, and why the catharsis is not included in the game itself. Respect to the Bioware developers that pulled through – may they be rewarded in the way they deserve and the industry currently does not allow.

DA:TV Spoilers ahead!

Pt. 1 is here

Which brings me to Solas and Rook: how does Solas move on?

The fascinating thing about Solas is that …he doesn’t. He errs too much in both directions – he both takes too much personal responsibility and ascribes too much to systemic responsibility.  How is that possible? I suspect it is because, and here’s the kicker, he IS the system, in his mind. “You were never ready to make the sacrifices that leadership requires”, he says as he betrays Rook like he has betrayed the Inquisitor, like he has betrayed Felassan, like he has betrayed Mythal. There is so much he regrets but in his memory, we do not see him regretting the acts (like severing the Titans’ dreams or the fall-out of the war) as much as the precursors, the moments where he failed to convince others of his own better judgement / was (arguably) coerced into making a choice or remaining passive (like taking a physical form; like being unable to convince the Evanuris not to become “gods” and conquer; unable to convince them not to use the Blight; etc.)    

It makes sense: he is wisdom, but he is also pride. Being humble would require him to acknowledge the limitations of his power and influence; being prideful is what leads him to “…but what if?” again and again. It is the same rebellious stubbornness that leads him to oppose the tight grip and tyranny of the Evanuris, the same voice that whispers: “No. It could be better. I should have known better. I could make it better. I am wisdom. I know the way. This is why I took a physical form. This is my job. My failing.” Instead of accepting that his own power only goes so far; that he is only part of the system and not all of it, he instead runs against this wall again and again, thinking that it was an error in approach and strategy (and those can be fixed!), not in power and assumed responsibility. He IS the system; he just has to get the system RIGHT. “I must fix what I have broken,” indeed.

And this is where Rook comes in. When mourning him, Dream-Varric tells them: “Shit. Didn’t you learn anything from this place? /I/ made the choice. To talk to him. To try to reach him. (…) My decision. My sacrifice. And you don’t get to take that from me.” That is the vital lesson that Solas never learned: it is not all on him. The other Evanuris made their choices, and he was just one player among many. Each time his actions had unforeseen consequences, he tried to go back, fix it, and undo what had been done, on a grander and grander scale, rather than facing the consequences head on, forgiving himself, and working with this new reality. This is the lesson that Rook learns in the Fade Prison – “how do we move on”? By accepting the current circumstance for what they are, and letting go of the assumption that everything could be under your control if you had just tried hard enough (fitting for a protagonist whose biggest skill is “winging it”). There will always be other people, other thoughts, other approaches, and each person is responsible for their own decisions; you just for your own. Ironically, the sooner you accept that, the more power you will have – as can be seen in all the companions’ quests, and the “good” Rook/Solas ending. Solas: “The things that I have done…” Mythal: “Are not for you alone to bear, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

This admission of guilt outside of himself; this owning up to responsibility, allows Solas, for the first time, to see himself as an equal player with others, not one who has failed to set the stage just so, and to leave his denial behind – to stop trying to fix the past so it all never happened – and to accept the consequences of his actions and move on. For the first time, he says “I will seek atonement”, not “I will fix my mistakes”. Whether it makes complete sense in-universe to leave the Veil where it is, I cannot say, but as an emotional truth, there is real pay-off to this: Solas accepts that the past has happened (really, fully, truly accepts it) and that it cannot be undone, no matter the trickery or blood and tears poured into the open wound. We must learn to live with and integrate what we have done and who we are, not deny or reject it as part of ourselves – that is the lesson learned in all the companions’ quests, and it is what Solas has now learned, too. For the first time in a long time, Solas believes in a future.

As it is, this is a beautiful story worth telling. But for two reasons, I cannot rate the entirety of Veilguard anywhere above 7/10. The first is Rook, the second the issue of community.

On Rook: like with Taash, I do believe that the ideas are all here. It is the execution that makes me a little sad. The idea clearly was to contrast Rook with Solas (which worked particularly well for my headstrong male elf Rook, which I loved – also shout-out to Alex Jordan, the male British VA, who absolutely killed it!), and to show that, by the end, Rook has moved beyond Solas’ self-imprisonment to become a true leader of their people. Cool. But where’s the arc?

All of the companions (and Solas) have to face something that they were afraid to confront in their own lives. What is Rook afraid of? I think the game wants this to be Varric’s death, and thus, the moment they accept that he is gone, he is able to escape the Fade Prison and defeat Solas. But WHY are they scared of Varric’s death? Again, I think the game WANTS this to be the burden of leadership but one of my biggest notes on the game is “burden of leadership where?”. For what I suspect were get-on-with-it game mechanics and time-constraint reasons, Rook clicks into leadership with complete ease (or at least my predominantly red/assertive Rook did – I suppose it feels different when choosing the teary-eyed responses?).

From the beginning, Rook is hyper-competent, never questioned in their position as a leader (why not Harding? Why not Neve? Especially since it seems to be dead-Varric appointing them?), and never falters under pressure. There is not one moment where I could say that Rook truly messed up and had to learn from their mistakes/accept the consequences of their actions. True, I did also play them as very competent and didn’t, for example, rush into the final battle without bolstering the factions and training my companions, but if this is an integral part of the story that every player should experience, it should be hard-coded into game.

Ultimately, Rook felt to me more like the platonic ideal of a character than a real person, which is a shame. Personally, I think this storyline would have lent itself really well to bringing back the Dragon Age prologues from DA:O – show me Rook messing up a mission (and let us really get to know the factions)! Let them start from the bottom up! Let them grapple with what it means to be a leader by constantly casting their mind back on what they have done wrong! Let them be an even stronger mirror to Solas!

Again, I think that the game wanted to do something like this with the Varric reveal and you “sacrificing” Davrin/Assan or Harding, but neither is actually Rook’s “fault” by any measure, and they come so late in the game that the Fade Prison sequence has to really rush you through the process of acceptance. Here, too, I would have loved more of a feeling of time passing by – it is the equivalent of the lost-in-the-snow scene in Inquisition (which I loved!), and just a bit more artistry would have really taken an already great chapter up a notch (e.g. show Rook’s vision blurring, passing out, coming to – “where am I? How long have I been here?”, show the surroundings cracking, seasons changing, Rook trying desperately to remember their friends, their system failing – “when did I last eat? Drink? Do I still need to? Am I dead?”, really driving home the thematic significance of the grieving process before ascending to acceptance – being haunted by statues appearing suddenly behind them whenever they turn, being thrown back into memories where the companions are washed out, etc. And let them REALLY grieve if they lost their love interest!)

That is to say: the other characters have to grapple – Rook gets to move on almost immediately. I also saw a tumblr post (which I unfortunately did not save; please let me know if you find it) that says that what was truly missing from DA:TV was a final scene in which the door closes behind Rook, job well done, and Rook just falls on their knees and all the pressure comes slamming down, and they break with a sob, a scream, or a laugh (with their LI or the whole team to catch them), and God, yes. The scene in Trespasser where the Inquisitor gets to actually lose their shit for a moment (“Shit! Damn it! We save Ferelden, and they’re angry! We save Orlais, and they’re angry! We close the breach! Twice! And my own hand wants to kill me! Could one thing in this fucking world just stay fixed!?”) solidified them as one of my favourite characters of all time; it made them feel real. Rook? Gets none of that. (And I say that, again, as someone who played a red/assertive Rook. He got to be angry plenty, but rarely every felt like he was letting us, the players, or his companions into the depths of his soul. Vulnerable? Insecure? That’s for the companions, not the capital-h Hero.) Unfortunately, that leaves Rook’s character development somewhat underbaked.

DA:TV Spoilers ahead!

So what does DA:TV want to say, or rather: to ask?

I think the question at the lyrium-red heart of the game is “How do you move on?”. It does not only make sense narratively, for Solas and his complicated relationship to his own past actions, the companions’ story arcs, and the “good ending”, but also for a game that has been trapped in development hell for 10+ years. How DO you move on?

Specifically, the question seems to be: “How can we move on from guilt/an unjust/imperfect past into an uncertain future?”

We see this theme echoed in all companion quests, to varying degrees.

It is in Bellara literally being faced with a manifest regret from her past (her brother) and having to choose how to honour the legacy of their work for their people.

It is in Davrin taking responsibility for the guilt over and future of the last surviving griffons whose species almost died because of his organisation’s, the Grey Wardens’, abuse.

It is in Emmrich finding the courage to do what Johanna (his more extreme, unethical mirror) could not do: to face the uncertainty and walk across the threshold of death with peace of mind, either in his ritual or later in life, because of Manfred’s sacrifice.

It is in Harding waking up to the injustices towards her and her people that have been buried deep underground and choosing how to unearth them and carry them forward.

It is in Lucanis moving beyond the reality that he was betrayed by one of the very few people he trusted - that he crawled out of a year of torture by the skin of his teeth, forever changed and fuelled by Spite, and choosing to break the cycle by not murdering Illario.

It is in Neve being haunted by (yet another) criminal from her past, grappling with the age-old noir questions of who a detective would be without their murderers, whether the fight with/ against corruption can ever stop and what it means to be “a force for good”, so that she can fully embrace who she is and wants to be for Minrathous in the future.

And it is in Taash, walking the many tightropes of traditional expectations (man or woman? Rivaini or Qunari? Honouring the past and their mother or carving their own path into the future?) only to realise that some choices are not binary, that one can only discover options beyond that which one has been taught by “struggling with oneself” (shokra toh ebra), and that embracing certain parts of oneself does not mean dishonouring others.

All companions must face something that they were afraid to confront in their own lives, made unavoidable through the appearance of Someone Who Is What They Are Not (Cyrian for Bellara, Isseya for Davrin, Johanna for Emmrich, her own unbridled rage for Harding, Illario for Lucanis, Aelia for Neve, and, the Dragon King, but also, surprisingly, I think Neve for Taash?)

What I find most interesting is how this question (“How can we move on from guilt/an unjust/imperfect past into an uncertain future?”) seems to be answered along a sliding scale of personal vs systemic failing and also personal vs systemic responsibility.

The quests that intrigued me the most were the ones in which the personal and the systemic were deeply intertwined and were also acknowledged as such: Davrin’s (his own struggle with individuation vs being shaped (and potentially abused) by a community/ organisation mirroring Assan’s and the griffons as a whole; both he and the system must change), Emmrich’s (his own deep intrinsic fear of death as the driving force behind his a) appreciating and b) being terrified of the Mourn Watchers’ philosophy of going beyond death is beautifully thought out), Harding’s (her own supressed rage as the price for being ever-pleasant, useful, and building others up by mirroring the long-forgotten suffering of the tranquilised Titans who were literal building materials for the elves? *chef’s kiss*) and Neve’s (her constant fear of losing control (which is highlighted in her romance) while still being drawn to the thrill of the chase is mirrored in Minrathous’ constant chaos where just one slip of vigilance can cost you at best a leg, and at worst your life, or your loved ones – but Neve’s quest marries personal and systemic responsibility by asking: would you rather shape the system’s chaos or be shaped by it?).

The quests that fell a bit flat for me had either side of the equation slightly underbaked: Bellara’s (yes, she and Cyrian were deeply invested in Arlathan and Anaris was a Forgotten One, but how does his death directly relate to Bellara keeping or “freeing” (?) the Archive?), Lucanis’ (there is such potential in an assassin re-evaluating whether murder is always the best solution for everything and especially betrayal (and especially-especially because family members assassinating one another seems to be just another Tuesday for the Crows (and especially-especially-especially because it’s heavily implied that Lucanis knew that whole year in the Ossuary who put him there)). But sadly, the game doesn’t really go into Lucanis’ deeper thoughts on the Crows as an organisation, assassination as a moral quandary or the potential culpability of Caterina – which makes his final decision all the more baffling. Him struggling with his “inner demon” would have been a great set-up for struggling with the title of Demon of Vyrantium; what makes him more or less of a demon now than before? But alas), and Taash’s (all the ingredients are there, but the lack of systemic emphasis really dragged down Taash’s story, I felt. Taash explicitly exists between systems, and yet we don’t really see them engaging in either culture and/or going beyond them except for rather shallow markers, like food, clothes, and jewellery – I really would have liked to experience that moment in which Taash talks to Neve, Maevaris and their friends and reflects on their views on gender. I also really would have liked a moment between Isabela, Rowan and perhaps an Antaam defector on what being Rivaini, in-between, or Qunari meant to them, and for Taash to pitch in. In the end, it was not narratively satisfying for me why Taash must now make a choice (or, even weirder, why Rook must now make a choice for them) between being more Rivaini or more Qunari when them thinking through being more man or more woman ended with “neither/both/a third option, actually”.)

Doodles for/while listening to Hozier's "Unreal Unearth".

INFJ2: ...

INTP: ...but?

INFJ2: *bashful* I mean ...

INFJ2: ....

INFJ2: I mean ...

INFJ2: *eyes glistening, pupils wide*

INFJ2: *breathless* How often do you get the opportunity to talk to somebody educated on Degrowth and monetary policies in the Global South?

INTP: ...

INTP: ...*breaks out into laughter*

INTP: That's-

INTP: That's why you agreed to the dinner?

INTP: *wipes away tears of laughter*

INFJ2: What - I mean -

INFJ2: Is that so odd?

INTP: No, no, not all!

INTP: *is playing Fire Emblem: Three Houses*

INTJ: *is watching*

INTJ: ...

INTJ: ...so these NPCs always say the same thing, right?

INTP: Yeah, it's basically always "Wow, I love our pope Rhea so much" or "Don't you think Rhea is a little sus?"

INTJ: ...hmm.

INTJ: What would your NPC dialogue be, do you think?

INTP: If I were in the game?

INTJ: Yeah.

INTP: ...

INTP: *laughs*

INTP: I'd probably be the info-dump character. Every time the main character comes around, I'll tell them a new fact about the world, like, completely unprompted.

INTJ: *laughs*

INTJ: I could see that.

INTP: I'd be standing around in the library, always with a book in my hand -

INTJ: - and every time the player comes around, there are more and more books around your feet -

INTP: - and I look more and more tired -

INTJ: - and at some point, it's just a pile of books on the floor and you're completely buried and if you press "A" on the pile, your disembodied voice would still be like -

INTP: "Did you know that this one herb is really good for battle wounds? :D"

INTP & INTJ: *laugh*

INTP: What would yours be?

INTJ: ...hmmm.

INTJ: I think I'd be made to disappear.

INTP: What do you mean?

INTJ: You'd meet me in the hallway and, the first time, I'd just stealthily ask "So what do you think about Rhea?"

INTP: Ooooh, and then you get more and more obvious?

INTJ: Yeah, I think it'd escalate each time you talked to me. Like, from "I saw Rhea on the cemetery at midnight" to "Sometimes I feel like somebody's watching me while I sleep" to "I can't say too much - she's always listening - but ... be careful" and then -

INTP: Poof. You disappear.

INTJ: Exactly.

INTP: Ooooh, yeah. I could see that.

INTJ: ...

INTJ: ...I mean she IS really sus.

*crowd going wild*

INTP: *shouting* I JUST REALISED! ALL THE SONGS I CAN SING! ARE SAD!

ENFP: *shouting* DUDE!

ENFP: ...

ENFP: *looking pensive*

ENFP: ...

INTP: No, it's okay - the only thing I really want right now is a hot water bottle and that, I can't have.

ENFP: Why? You do have an empty water bottle, don't you?

INTP: *blinks* I suppose so.

INTP: It's just ... not really the right shape.

ENFP: Well, would you rather have an oddly-shaped hot water bottle or no hot water bottle at all?

INTP: ...

INTP: That is ...

INTP: ...a really big question.

ENFP: Well, when you come up with your tiny answer -

INTP: *bursts out laughing*

ENFP: *rambles on* - and tiny it inevitably must be because it'll be either "yes" or "no", so, you know -

INTP: "Your tiny answer" is almost Shakespearean, you know that?

ENFP: ...

ENFP: *blushes* Pfft.

ENFP: I mean.

ENFP: You know.

ENFP: *descends the stairway to the tune of Elton John's "Tiny Dancer", sings*

ENFP: *shimmies* 🎵 Hold me cloooser, tiny aaanswer 🎵

INTP: *almost crying with laughter*

ENFP: *mighty chuffed* So can I get you that hot water bottle?

INTP: Yeah, I do think you would get on like a house on fire.

ENFP: Where are we going?

INTP: I thought to yours, right?

ENFP: Oh yeah, I'm just wondering about the best path to take.

INTP: Uh, I think the shortest way is that way.

ENFP: No, no, no. It's not about shortness. If we go left, it's much prettier and we can walk along the parks and the streets are also nicer. If we got right, yeah, it's faster but not as much of an experience.

INTP: *laughs* So it's all about having an ✨ aesthetic✨ experience?

ENFP: *offended* No. God, no. This is just about prettiness. This is not about real aesthetic experience.

INTP: Hmm... I suppose there IS a difference between day-to-day aesthetic experience and, like, life-changing aesthetic experiences?

ENFP: *introduces INTP to the concept of crisps sprinkled with lime juice & spices* INTP: Mmmmh, this is heavenly. ENFP: *smugly* I told you ~ ENFP: And now you've been cursed ~ ENFP: You shall forever be enthralled by this craving ~ INTP: That's alright. The mind exists to be expanded :) ENFP:

A dog cries out in the wood,

His growl drowns out the bells of the church

His scurrying paw scatters red-orange leaves

It is only here, as we crouch in the dark

It is only now, feeling his bark

That we know it:

 This was game - was a hunting ground, wasn’t it?

Not just this clearing, all of this wood

Was once wild, a tangle of bark

The root, the lichen, the moss - our church

Like mycelium, we spread through the dark

Wound our way up their trunks and were leaves

 The dog never leaves

Even in our holiest chants, we still feel it

Praying, preying - stalking prey in the dark

Finding stones, whetting stones to level our wood

Knowing, just knowing that dirt-crusted nails will yet church

Us – free us – scrape off the bark

 Or is this bark

Up the wrong tree? Should we shed our leaves,

Walk naked and kneeling, contrite, to our church

Wondering why we are cold, why it

Feels empty after burning the wood,

Surprised that fervour illuminates the dark

 For the length of a wick only? We want dark,

We fear dark, we bark

At the night-sky to be our new wood

Demand that it sprout fresh suns like pink leaves

In April, command that it take us - that it

Be our kiln and colour, become like stained glass in church

 All these windows – we needed the bells of the church

All these prayers for light – to guide us out of the dark

All these dreams - but what will help us understand it?

The dog will bark

A last time. Who will take his place then, when he leaves?

Who? Who, wood?

 You, wood, were our first church

Lit with your yellow light, leaves lit our way through the dark

-        transforming the bark of our want into the songs that may sate it