I bought Dragon Age: Inquisition just a couple years after it finally stopped being relevant, in that roundabout way the most loyal of fans often do. In fact, I came across it by hearing a friend go on and on about the series, singing its praises and dedicating countless hours to it. I started, as all video game purists are wont to do, with the first game, Dragon Age Origins.
Bioware is actually -though it only recently entered my awareness- quite important to me, as a lesbian gamer. It has gone above and beyond in representation in games, and though it stumbles (and oh, does it stumble sometimes) it is a precious gem in a sea of violent misogyny, homophobic language, toxic male protagonists and skimpy dressed romantic interests with no agency to speak of. Even now, years after Inquisition, with the revamp of the God Of War series (known amongst feminist circles for its graphic violence against women in game) it seems as though the gaming industry is painting a lovely wall behind Gamergate, behind harassment and its own history.
In that environment, Dragon Age: Inquisition absolutely shines. Its characters include a lesbian woman, a gay man, two bisexual characters, a trans man, and many characters of color (although it also has, of course, a lot of fantasy racism and a lot of glossing over realistic colorism). The Dragon Age series has always felt welcoming to me, ever since I discovered it, because it seems to know that people like me will be playing it, over and over and over, just to see that moment, just to screenshot that scene of my female Inquisitor flinging the beautiful Josephine Montilyet in the air (and yes, I absolutely did).
But even though I am obviously a fan of these games, even though I adore their inclusiveness and their loving portrayal of diverse characters, I was too one of the people who have clamored that Bioware is, well…losing its touch.
Much has been said (and said all over again, but without the originality and with the added redundancy) about the decayment of the Dragon Age series, of the slowly crumbling of the empire that Bioware could’ve been. The edits of Mass Effect: Andromeda will never die, I’m afraid. Fans lashed out at Dragon Age 2 for being so different, they received Inquisition and complained about the blatant EA marketing campaign the game studio is now under. The added DLC to have a full, complete story, the lazy multiplayer that feels nothing like what the game is trying to accomplish, so on and so forth. Bioware has always shined for its character-driven, long games with replay value, choices that matter and its own brand of humor that sticks with you (from “swooping is bad” and “Sarcastic Hawke” to the entirety of the Iron Bull romance in Inquisition). Under EA, it shines for its churned out games that feel less human than ever, its rise in monetizable content, and the lack of the human touch I felt with Origins.
Origins was, for me, a deeply personal story. It had no Chosen One nonsense most RPGs like to spin (so did DA2, but this isn’t about that departure from the genre quite yet), and it presented us with the most likely main character — Alistair, bastard son of a king, gallant and charming, scared of his destiny — as our sidekick, more than willing to follow us in whatever decisions we might make. It was a game that felt extremely complete: our Warden was informed of the Blight, you saved the day, and everything was quiet again. Sure, there were loose ends to tie up — Morrigan, the entire kingdom of Orzammar, societal problems in Thedas… but I have a hard time coming up with anything the game promised us that it failed to deliver on.
Origins felt like I was a hero, for the first time in a long time, during an awful period of my life. It felt rich and full of meaning and small conflicts; my personal favorite was the coming together of different people to fight a larger evil, the acknowledgement of corruption in places of power, the inner struggle between duty and the gut feeling of what is right.
Dragon Age 2 was a much less immersive narrative, though not necessarily in a bad way. While Origins was practically pushing you onto the Warden, begging the player to live vicariously that fight to achieve legitimacy and defeat the Big Bad, 2 is very much Hawke’s tale. It is an experience that resembles more a knight’s adventure than a myth or legend. Hawke already exists in the world by the time we come into it inside their shoes. They have a family, a history, something they’re fighting for. We simply aid them in their task, figure out their path, and maybe get a boyfriend or girlfriend along the way. It ends on a massive cliffhanger that is itching for a continuation, on a pessimistic note, and without resolution to one of the major themes of the entire game — mages vs templars, the powerful vs the ones trying to control it. The morality of restraint and vigilance.
Meanwhile, Inquisition feels like it’s trying to be Origins — there’s the big stage it’s trying to fill, we’re saving all of Thedas now, and we’re the head of a major organization and there’s more dragons this time, hah! It gives us more characters than DA2, which was famous for its companions, but never quite dedicates enough time for us to connect to them like we did in the previous game. It centres us in side quests that are shallow and made for XP grinding, with the bare minimum of lore and worldbuilding to keep us focused on our goal. The party banter is much more spaced out, which makes it hard to do anything relevant if you’re trying to stand in one place for 30 minutes to screen record that one thing Dorian says in order to upload it to Twitter. Inquisition goes for the dreaded ‘Chosen One’ narrative, and has everyone tell you how much they believe in you practically right off the bat (in fact, it has everyone apologize to you for ever mistrusting you when they had every right to). It is a wish fulfillment that falls a little flat, for me, because the Inquisitor is never an underdog, just another cog in the grand political game of Thedas.
And now, the moment you’re all (I’m) waiting for — The Descent.
As I’ve mentioned before, Inquisition received a fair amount of criticism for its Trespasser DLC, which was basically the main game epilogue and should’ve rightfully been included in it for the price it cost. But I’ve barely seen anyone mention the other Inquisition DLC (we don’t count the Black Emporium here), which for me drastically changed the experience.
Descent begins as a War Table operation. It is nothing remarkable, not even something too far fetched, similar to how the Origins Stone Prisoner DLC felt like a natural (and even essential) addition to the game. In fact, the first time I clicked on the operation, I didn’t catch on to the fact that it was the DLC mission until I was taken to Orzammar myself instead of having one of my advisors do the dirty work for me.
Orzammar and the Deep Roads have been a staple of Dragon Age ever since Origins. There is always the dreaded ‘Deep Roads bit’ that most players whine about. The Deep Roads are portrayed as dark, slimy, covered with shitty enemies and shittier combat scenarios that don’t allow you to use Dragon Age’s mildly useful battle tactics. They’re not generally the most loved part of the game, but the lore behind it is usually quite well received, similar to the adoring crowd of dwarf fans that demand a dwarf love interest, all falling on Bioware’s deaf ears.
(One day.)
The Deep Roads are especially important in Origins, since our character is a Warden. Because of that, they are a location unequivocally tied to our character’s future and their eventual downfall, the Calling. Dragon Age talks a lot about how dwarves suffer quite a bit for living near darkspawn, but aside from some cameos from the Legion of the Dead in Origins, it’s never a subject that’s explored with more thought and nuance. There’s certainly never a companion that truly experiences Orzammar and its culture positively, and although you can play as a dwarf in Origins, you never venture into the Deep Roads, just the political game of the subterranean city.
Therefore, when I realized the DLC was entirely about the Deep Roads, lyrium mining, and the people that live there, I was curious. Would Bioware live up to its own hype? Would Descent impress me as much as I wished Val Royeaux could have done? Would I even finish playing it at all?
Boy, oh boy.
Descent begins with you meeting the two temporary companions you’ll have in this quest: Valta and Renn.
I’m going to say an unpopular opinion right here, but Valta and Renn are some of the best relationships Bioware has ever written. The lovable dichotomy of the scholar and the warrior might be old, but it is nevertheless a classic, and it is played quite well with this pair. Renn is a jugged fighter of the Legion of the dead who’s become disillusioned with anything but violence and the grim life in the Deep Roads. Valta is a field researcher, on the contrary, and is burling alive with thirst for knowledge of the why’s, how’s and clocks that keep the Deep Roads ticking. Their friendly banter is loving, familiar, and most importantly, external.
Valta and Renn are fully realized characters long before the Inquisitor ever comes across them. They work, in part, because of that. They aren’t supposed to change in the duration of a DLC quest, they’re supposed to be stationary and helpful, and maybe even admire you a bit, but they’re not permanent companions.
And that’s why it’s a punch in the gut when they are unexpectedly changed.
But that’s me getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the hype over the Deep Roads.
The Dragon Age art team have outdone themselves in this instance, I must say. The entirety of the Deep Roads is absolutely gorgeous, intimidating, and horrifyingly large and empty. It scares you. It invites you to try and explore it, to get lost in its tunnels without an exit and its wonky wooden bridges that dangle you over an unseen chasm in the darkness. As you go deeper and deeper, and especially as you reach the Bastion of the Pure, you feel compelled to just pause the game for a second, and stare. It is beautiful. It is captivating.
It is unsettlingly unhuman.
The atmosphere does a great work of setting up the Titans, of telling you something larger than life lives here. Even though the enemies are a bit tough (very high level, with rare chances of loading up supplies and no camp spots near any of the main battles) the feeling of success once you’ve defeated them is very satisfying.
To the characters, then.
Renn dies pretty early on. It is a stupid, could-only-happen-in-a-cutscene death that leaves you blinking in confusion. Valta’s reaction to it is genuine, and her voice actress does a great job of engaging you in that emotion so that it helps save the moment, but ultimately it is a meaningless death that could have been avoided. Even narratively, it makes absolutely no sense. We’ve spent barely enough time with Renn, who’s only spoken a few lines, to even get a small amount of attachment towards this hard, rough character. It has no impact on the Inquisitor.
And that’s the point.
The moment Renn dies in the DLC, it is made clear that the protagonist of the Descent isn’t the Inquisitor.
It’s Valta.
After Renn dies, there is a very clear though progressive change in Valta. Her easygoing banter with her friend gone, the only remaining defining character trait in her is her absolute need to find out what is wrong in the Deep Roads. She is inexpressive, determined and ruthless. Valta has lost her friend to this, she seems to think, and she is not going to let that sacrifice be for naught. Her ‘stone sense’, the pseudo magical force that has been guiding her (and your party by extension) down the Deep Roads, is getting stronger, and it’s confounding her.
There is a moment, right after you confront the final main boss (nothing too challenging, though in a pretty tight arena), when Valta lashes out with a strange force against the Inquisitor. I cannot describe it in words — it is imperative you play it yourself — but the absolutely haunting expression she has, the way everyone reacts in stupefied shock at a dwarf using magic…it’s truly evocative.
Valta insists, seeming almost nothing like the cranky but enthusiastic scholar at the beginning, that she must remain here, in this corpse of the centre of the Titan. She has been ‘recognized as one of his daughters’. She is irrational, driven mad and impossible to reason with. You have no choice but to leave her there.
You can try to search for her in a later war table mission. If you do, Renn’s body has been taken, and the entrance to the place where she was left has been sealed.
The Descent is a harrowing story. It lets you as an observer to a short but ultimately extremely powerful character arc that manages to speak about slow corruption, forces that are not necessarily evil, but malign, and that speaks to how little you can do about it. You have no choice to save Renn in order to save Valta from herself. You have no choice to take her with you. You have no choice to offer her help. In a game that prides itself on choices, it denies you the right to choose for her.
Valta is a character that deeply unsettles me. Her slow descent into madness is the title for this DLC, make no mistake about it. As we make our way down the path of knowledge, she loses more and more for it. For the Inquisitor, this is a side quest. For Valta, this is her life.
In the end, the Descent works. It is a closed story with an ending that manages to feel rewarding and satisfying while leaving room to explore, and it is a game that subverts a lot of expectations in the RPG genre, where the player is thrown into almost god-like status.
But most importantly, the Descent made me feel things. Made me turn on the light. Made me stare at art like I haven’t in a long time.
The Descent, to me, is earth-shattering.
