Going back to Dragon Age: Origins today for what was far from my first playthrough, I realised it’s never really had a true sequel (or if maybe that’s a little harsh for some: it’s never had a sequel that followed it’s classic RPG spirit in quite the same way). Yes, the world of Thedas has been further explored by Hawke and The Inquisitor – with Rook soon to be added to the list of overworked protagonists with a mate called Varric – but it’s never felt like the spirit of Origin’s Dungeons and Dragons-inspired design has ever truly been iterated on within the franchise. While lore has been fleshed out and new stories have irrevocably changed Thedas’ future (and everybody’s opinion on Anders and explosives), the core gameplay of Dragon Age has moved on from intricate tactical positioning and D&D-lite roleplaying to a sense of more ‘current’ combat and exploration – or at least what seemed like it was current, in the games of its time.
Dragon Age 2 for instance was a limited character study by necessity, thanks to its incredibly tight turnaround time (16 months!), replacing the multitude of unvoiced dialogue options in Origins with a more limited, yet voiced, Mass Effect-style dialogue wheel – a staple of all BioWare games now. Then Dragon Age: Inquisition gave in to the flavour of the decade, in the wake of The Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim’s vast success, and went full on open world, with materials to pick up every three steps, a ping button to spam, and so much bloat that the much-maligned Hinterlands starting area became one of the series’ biggest jokes. Official social media accounts even had to remind players that there was a whole game waiting for them beyond its boundaries.
There’s a great big world to explore beyond the Hinterlands. Get out there and see it! pic.twitter.com/HP88zOtIRe
— Dragon Age (@dragonage) November 29, 2014
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Even with the big differences between all of the games though, Origins stands out. Not only did it lay down the foundation of all the series’ gloriously in-depth lore – from complicated religions and warring countries, to the fascinating and dangerous dreamworld of the Fade – it’s also a deeply nerdy take on fantasy within video games. It’s shown in touches like the intricate tactics system that allows for control of your party right down to the minutiae of how and when companions can perform any action, but also in the huge range of dialogue options that let you be just as heroic, evil, or awkwardly forward as you like.
The game’s title, Origins, is another indicator here: that this game places its focus on how you want to build your character above all. You’re not Hawke; you’re not The Inquisitor; you’re whoever you want to be in the world of Thedas, with a backstory not summed up on a character creator screen but instead actually experienced first-hand, before you’re given the title of Grey Warden. You’re the important one here, not your moniker. Are you a Dalish Elf reluctant to leave your nomadic lifestyle behind, or are you a poor city Elf thankful to be rid of the poverty in Denerim’s alienage? A mage kept in the isolated tower of The Circle about to endure their dangerous Harrowing initiation, or a Dwarf unable to use magic? Common, or noble?
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These race and background choices can drastically alter the ending, romance options, and ways the world reacts to you, but also, crucially, how react to the world. I’m not usually someone who thinks too deeply about my RPG protagonists’ pasts, but there’s something about the partially filled-in blank slate Origins starts you off with that gives me a gentle push to join in on the roleplay. I made a Dalish Elf in my most recent jaunt through Ferelden’s Blight-infested landmarks, and right from the start decided to only pick dialogue options that I thought she would pick. Namely: cautious to the point of rudeness when it comes to humans, asking about their Chantry religion while I was already fully aware of its bloody backstory, while also humouring demons who I know to have duplicitous intentions.