#datv positive

“But Dragon Age is my all-time favourite thing ever, why can’t I feel disappointed?” Sure, but I strongly believe the way we decide to engage with media and how we frame our perception of it is largely internal. Dragon Age did not get JK Rowling’ed, the series is intact, and even if someone thinks Veilguard is the worst thing ever created, the franchise itself isn’t toxic in the way some other fandoms and/or franchises have become.

And honestly, what strikes me is how the conversation just loops. It’s a circle: people interpret the new game entirely through a rigid idea of what Dragon Age “is,” then use that same filter to declare the game a failure. It’s interpretation used for self-confirmation.

Meanwhile, plenty of people who enjoyed Veilguard moved on, or rather, moved forward. They went back to older titles, or branched into other games, or simply carried their enjoyment into fanworks or irl political activism. Enjoyment generates new things and it expands. Whereas the endless complaint threads just spiral inward.

What makes it worse is how nostalgia for the older games gets weaponized. Their memory isn’t objective but rather a wish-fulfillment fantasy. Dragon Age 2 was relentlessly dragged when it released, but now it’s recast by some of the same critics as the “last real Dragon Age. The same thing is true for Inquisition. People manufactured a myth of a pure, perfect “before” that Veilguard supposedly destroyed.

And then there’s the moralizing of taste. People aren’t saying “I didn’t like Veilguard,” they’re positioning themselves as arbiters of what counts as real Dragon Age, who the “true” fans are, which readings are valid. That’s not about the games at all. It’s about controlling the story of what Dragon Age is allowed to mean and who is allowed to enjoy it.

So when people post “old Dragon Age stood for X,” what we’re often seeing are just blatant lies or gross misreadings recited as fact. So many of these people aren’t critics but bullies, and the endless repetition of their complaints is meant to dominate the space rather than think critically.

I also would like to point out that the game I’ve had the least amount of “hm I wanna change/rewrite this to fit my character/worldstate better” has, funnily enough, BEEN VEILGUARD!!!

A majority of the world state acknowledgment a lot of people seem to want just sounds like people wanting to be pat on the back for making the “good decisions”. Which makes me wanna ask them “hey how exactly would xyz be able to fit this worldstate that has choices you don’t agree with?” bc clearly player choices being respected are sooooo important to everyone.

Hypothetical choices to exist in a single worldstate for everyone to have a little ‘fun’ thinking about in regards to how much narrative importance worldstates “should’ve” had in veilguard:

Veilguard has such a consistent theme: regret, and the related concepts of self-blame and self-forgiveness. It asks: how does someone live knowing that the blood on their hands cannot be undone? Can that ever be set right? And it delivers the fascinating message that refusal to forgive oneself can be selfish.

Solas is the biggest vessel for this. Solas is, of course, so mired in regret that he has a whole subplot dedicated to learning and unpacking all his regrets. He is so trapped in them that he cannot escape in a year a regret-sealed prison that Rook leaves in three weeks. (Disclaimer: this post is not anti-Solas; I really enjoy him, but I enjoy him because he has done some terrible things and is dealing with it in the worst possible way.)

 Some of his regrets, he justifies, desperately trying to wring the blood off his hands – insisting to Neve in the endgame that killing Varric was ‘an accident’, telling Felassan that it’s not really bad that he manipulated the Disruption spirits into dying for him, because ‘they died doing what they loved and look, it was worth it!’

And at the same time, he copes by trying to find a Fix It button. Waking up to a world where the elves have lost everything, instead of committing to the long, difficult work of trying to help them reclaim their culture, language and history… he instead seizes upon the quick fix of destroying the Veil. ‘I caused all this,’ he says to himself, ‘and rather than living with the consequences, and helping others live with them, I will undo the Bad Thing.’ The elves potentially get their magic and immortality back. He’ll have done One Big Thing to address what he did, and now he’s done (because he cannot bear to face how endless and painful the work to really help the elves would be.)

He is also neck deep in sunk cost fallacy. He has to keep going, he has to tear down the Veil, because if he doesn’t, he makes everything pointless. It was pointless that he killed Mythal and Felassan; it was pointless to give his orb to Corypheus; it was pointless to deceive the Inquisitor and betray his friend/lover. If he commits to living in a world with the Veil intact, then he was wrong to kill Felassan and he cannot take it back.

Solas cannot wrap his head around the concept that it was pointless anyway. It was all done in the name of erasing his guilt, making it easier to live with (oh, he tells himself it was for the elves, but if he really wanted to help them, he’d be out there learning about who they are now.) He cannot make the awful things he’s done less awful by doing more awful things.

Solas is stuck in a conviction that he needs to do some big, huge thing to atone. And then… then Rook comes along.

Rook, right from the beginning, is given things to regret. Right out of the gate, they are blaming themselves for the Evanuris’s escape, and others are blaming them too. Solas, who only knows the language of blame, is accusing them from the start. Rook, on some level, knows that Varric is dead, but Solas’s manipulation works so well because Rook can’t face the reality that they might have failed Varric. Let him go to his death. Didn’t stop him and didn’t save him.

And then they’re forced to choose between Minrathous and Treviso, and the consequences of that never leave them. You are forced to confront what you did every time you visit either city. Fail to save Treviso, and you see it devoured by Blight; you see Jacobus, who was young and scared and angry, Blighted. You have to kill him, a child, because of a choice you made. Fail to save Minrathous, and the Venatori seize power, posting corrupt Templars at every street corner. You see Ashur, a good and selfless man, Blighted, and have to face Tarquin’s devastated accusations that you should have been there. The Shadow Dragons are half destroyed.

And Neve and Lucanis – one of them is damaged forever. Each of them automatically selects the ‘darker’ option at the end of their character paths; an entire potential life path is closed down to them. Neve struggles to trust Rook again. Lucanis becomes convinced he has to do everything himself. You did the thing that hurt them.

Meanwhile, your companions are all struggling with regrets of their own. Bellara blames herself for Cyrian’s death, even when she is so clearly not at fault. She craves his forgiveness, and is unable to forgive herself. Neve still blames herself for Brom’s death and Aelia’s last escape from her. Lucanis and Davrin leave Weisshaupt drowning in self-blame and self-hatred – how could I have missed? How dare I survive, when so many of my comrades have fallen? How do I live with knowing that innocents might die because I didn’t do better?

Taash? They watch their mother die, and – just like Solas, who as Taash points out, never got to talk things over with Mythal before she died – never gets closure. They can never ‘yell it out’ with Shathann; their mother never got a chance to know them as their real self. Emmrich? Still clearly blames himself on some level for what Johanna has become – ‘I would have helped you!’ he tells her. He has to either let go of Manfred or lichdom, and make his peace with the decision.  

Harding is an interesting one, because while she doesn’t have any huge regret herself, she serves to illustrate the selfishness of Solas’s attitude. Solas is fixated on assuaging his own guilt – undo the bad thing he did, make it all worth it – and he has never given a thought to trying to do anything for the dwarves, whose ancestors he mutilated. He has never done anything to honour the Titans.

Self-blame in general can feel so… vindicating. ‘I feel bad about the bad thing I did, so you see, I am not callous, I am suffering for my sins!’ And Harding really proves how much of a lie this is. Solas suffering emotionally as a consequence does not do anything to help the dwarves, who have lost the connection of isatunoll that their ancestors had. It doesn’t do anything to help Harding connect with her history and heritage.

And all of this leads us to Tearstone Island, where Rook is faced with sending either Neve or Bellara into a position that gets them captured. They choose either Harding or Davrin for a responsibility that gets them killed. And right them, when they are most vulnerable, Solas shows them Varric’s corpse. Reveals that all along, by nudging them into making these decisions, taking on the leadership of their team and the responsibility for their team’s pain, he has been shaping them into a reflection of himself. He switches their places. And Rook, devastated, buckling under the weight of regret, is pulled into the Fade.

But then. Rook refuses to fall into unproductive self-blame. They acknowledge ‘yes, I made these decisions, but I will honour those I lost, and live as they would have wanted.’ They acknowledge the agency of their loved ones, understanding that everyone who was hurt – Bellara or Neve, Harding or Davrin, Varric – made their own free-willed decisions. And then they allow others to help them, as their friends reach out to them to pull them home.

Solas was fixed on the idea that Only He knew how to fix everything and Only He could make it right. He could never have let anyone reach down to help him, because he still held himself above them.

Solas’s attempts to atone were ultimately self-interested. He wanted to vindicate himself, and to free himself from self-blame. By fixating on his idea of atonement, he was unable to look at any productive way to move forward.

But Rook is able to understand that what they need is not to atone. It is to forgive themself.

And the final quest’s outcome depends on the question: does Rook choose to help Solas understand that too? Does Solas listen to the person who most understands the only way Solas could possibly move forward?

(I do think Elgarn’nan and Ghilan’nain could have benefited from having been brought into the theme of regret more – not that I think they should have got redemption or anything, but at the very least, held up as more of a ‘look what happens when people refuse to regret at all’. Anyway I’m getting sidetracked.)

 I’ve seen a lot of criticism of Veilguard failing to tie Rook into the plot. And on one hand, I get where this is coming from – they don’t have as much of a practical tie into the story as, say, Hawke being involved in the mage rebellion through their family, or the Inquisitor being forced into their role by the Mark. But… I have to say, I disagree with the idea that Rook has no tie to the plot. Rook’s tie to the plot is thematic. Could there have been more – more decisions like Minrathous/Treviso, for instance, that mirror Solas’s choices? Probably, and I would have appreciated that a lot.

But I’ve got to say it: I prefer this thematic tether to the plot far, far more than the ‘chosen one’ aspect of the Inquisitor being tethered to the story by having happened to pick up a glowing orb. I actually think Rook is much more tied, in a thematic and narrative sense, to the events going on around them than the Inquisitor ever was.

TL;dr: I do think the theme of regret could have been enforced more often and been given some more personal relevance to Rook. But I love what we have. I genuinely appreciate that the devs had a theme, carried it through, and tied almost all the major characters into it. Imo, this aspect is just straight-up very good writing.

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All I could hear was Solas condescending to Rook, "Many would have died, I know. But afterward, flowers would grow again." and how Rook is such an inverted mirror to Solas' despair and "burn it down" mentality.

Rook spends all their *own* effort (rather than treating other people as necessary sacrifices for good things to appear once more), risking their own life (because these spots are frequented by darkspawn and spirits) finding flowers to soothe Despair Undying, and bring back Hope.

It's such a bookend to the quest in Dock Town, where you give names to people who brought joy, and art, and knowledge to the world.

I'm always thinking of Lord of the Rings, and often of The Council of Elrond and I hear Tolkien's echoes in this game, over and over.

“It is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not. It is wisdom to recognize necessity, when all other courses have been weighed, though as folly it may appear to those who cling to false hope.”

To take the hard road, not the expedient one, to resist becoming the very thing you fight against.

Ugh.

I love this game so much.

I think a better word is perhaps awkward but this implies that it was written awkwardly but I think the writing is very intentional.

The only companions I would say sound awkward at times are Bellara, Taash, and Harding.

Emmrich always sounds composed and well spoken. Makes sense with his experience and confidence.

Davrin sounds a bit harsh at times but purposeful and passionate. He’s also very sure of himself and a man of action.

Neve also sounds thoughtful, intelligent, and sure of herself. She’s a questioner but analytical.

Lucanis is actually quieter but he’s intentional and most of his dialogue reflects his sharp focus on his hyper fixation job.

So why do the other three sometimes come off awkward? Well I think it’s very intentional in the characterization.

Harding is pretty unsure where she fits in with everything. She’s used to being a background character to Inky, Varric, and co but now she’s at the forefront of stopping the apocalypse and she’s got this new dwarf magic that shouldn’t even exist. And she’s a surface dwarf raised around humans. She doesn’t really come into her own until you resolve her personal quest where she really decides who she wants to be and how to honor what got her there.

Taash comes off brutish and rude in some cases. It’s clear that they’re so divided in their identity and insecure about themselves that they lash out at others. Taash says they want to join the team but the decision was made for them by their mother so they act out. Taash has been simultaneously babied and unsupported. Figuring themselves out also shows immense growth in how they interact with people.

And sweet Bellara. Girl lives in the woods and hyper fixates on ancient elven magic and works for at least a week at a time, alone. She doesn’t get much social interaction so while she’s not necessarily insecure she doesn’t second guess herself a lot in social situations because it’s not her expertise like magic and elven culture is. So yeah she should be awkward.

There are sequences where I just feel like the people making it were having so much fun, you know?

Like the part when Johanna first appears in Emmrich’s quest and her hand scuttles across the room to her!

Or when Razikale transforms! When Lucanis does his crazy swan dive to stab Ghilan’nain!

When Rook uses the ballista to impale Ghilan’nain, and then Elgar’nan freezes time!

When Lace touches the Lyrium dagger and gets the power of the Titans!!

It just feels like someone showing you something and saying, “Look! Isn’t this so cool!”

Their enthusiasm is so palpable I have to be excited too!

Yes!! It’s SO cool! That was sick as HELL!

Did you see Lucasan rising from his slumber!! Did you see the Darkspawn Horde waiting outside the ribcage of the dead dragon for Rook and Davrin!! Did you see Neve repelling an attack from a GOD!!

I've been trying to figure out what to say and there are just too many thoughts swirling in my head. Ask me about my ocs' emotions, and I'll write you a fic that punches you in the gut. Ask me about my own emotions and I'll fumble for an answer and then come up empty.

I've been in this fandom something like 13 years now, but I never really felt like I belonged here until recently. My brain is too mush and I'm too in my emotions today to really dig deep into it right now, but Veilguard meant the world to me. The story, the characters, the lore, my Rooks (especially a certain one), just... everything. I'm more creatively driven than I ever have been in my life. I've brought a character to life in a way that I would've never dreamed possible, and get stunned every day by how much love people show him.

And I've made friends! The most wonderful friends. ❤️ I love you all dearly. You've made this past year in fandom the best I've ever had, and I sincerely hope that continues. Being included in this little slice of community, putting our Rooks in these fun au scenarios, all of the writing and the art and the LOVE around all of our characters. It really means the whole world to me.

Just... thank you. From Me, and Jericho. ❤️