I’ve been a long time Dragon Age fan, having played since Origins way back in 2009. So it was with some trepidation that I busted out Dragon Age: The Veilguard, the first in the series for a decade. It’s a game that felt like it would never arrive. But now that it’s here, is it any good?
Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a visually stunning game with a fun combat system. But it’s undermined by inconsistent writing, repetitive enemy encounters, and volatile narrative pacing. The plot is a series of quests strung together with a loose framework that doesn’t always make sense. There’s not enough breathing room in the first act, a frenetic wall of hyperactive characters constantly talking at you. And there are enough pantomime villains to fill seven Christmas pageants.
But the biggest problem facing Dragon Age: The Veilguard is that of infantilization. With its deep lore and references, the game is squarely aimed at dedicated long term Dragon Age fans like me. But it treats us like children, as if we’ve never played a Dragon Age game before.
Characters are constantly over-explaining what to do or how to solve puzzles. Battle barks tell you when to roll and move. While this might be an accessibility measure, it becomes grating when you’re an experienced player on high difficulty modes. Romances avoid intimacy, resulting in stilted, near humorous relationships with the player’s love interest.
Is it an effort to appeal to a broader audience? I’m not sure. But the Veilguard’s convoluted plotline relies sorely on knowledge of Inquisition. I can’t imagine new players finding this an easy story to follow.
Damn you Solas! waves fist at story
Spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition
Dragon Age: The Veilguard picks up after the Trespasser DLC, where it’s revealed that permanent party pest and nuisance nuggethead Solas is an ancient elven god. This was one of the most gasp-inducing reversals in gaming history, buried in the DLC. The Veilguard’s plot is clearest when it follows Solas’ backstory. Finding the Fen-Harel statues provides the most coherent exposition you’ll get in the game.
This through line of preventing Solas from opening the Veil and destroying the world gets waylaid as the story fractures. Alongside Solas, you need to defeat two other gods and two archdemons, all the while fixing your seven companions, each with their own nemesis to defeat. You’re given a thin narrative frame to justify these diversions in the face of imminent doom. Fix your friends, and you fix the world. The gods are busy; we have time for forest walks and coffee dates.
Companion quests are an important flagship of Bioware games. There’s a consistent message that loyalty will get you through do-or-die situations. That friendship conquers villainy.
Some companion quests are more intriguing than others. Who can’t but love the delightful necromancer Emmerich and his skeleton child Manfred. Or playing parent to a griffon with Davrin. These side quests become somewhat repetitive: track down big bad that is serving an even bigger bad. So many BBGs, so little time.
In Inquisition, the character quests integrated well with the through line of stopping the rift. In The Veilguard, these divided storylines take away from the through line of the narrative.
Through line is important in any storytelling; it’s what compels the player to the end of the game. If it lags, there’s a chance the player will lose interest and put away the controller for something more compelling. It’s a hard balance to maintain; you want to reward players who explore every avenue and pursue every side quest. Games work best when side quests serve the story, either in reinforcing the game’s themes or providing more insight on a larger plot. Players shouldn’t be punished for following the story.
What starts as intrigue to find out more about your new companions quickly becomes a slog. Like Mass Effect before it, companion quests must be completed between key plot points, unless you want to risk failing the end game. Perhaps this frustration relates to how quickly I played the game. If there’s one thing I can recommend, take your time with Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Duck in while you enjoy it, leave when it becomes a chore, then come back to it again.
Part of this frustration stems from the wildly varying quality of the written dialogue. I almost threw my controller across the room when early on, characters wandered into an abandoned village and said “It’s quiet. Too quiet.” Haven’t we moved past this kind of cliched dialogue?
Rarely was I struck by the beauty of a line or laughed out loud. Who can forget the immortal Varric line from Dragon Age II: “Opinions are like testicles. You kick them hard enough, doesn’t matter how many you got.” Some characters have defined voices like Emmerich, others speak in generalities. Harding states the obvious at almost every corner. Neve barks in flat staccato, but grew on me as the story progressed.
Vague spoilers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard
In trying to endear us to these characters, Bioware wants us to feel the impact of our choices. But when your hand is hovering over a ‘pick between these two characters,’ anyone who’s played a Bioware game in the past 20 years will know they’re sending someone to their doom. Veilguard’s plot twists were signposted so large they could be freeway billboards.
Despite the foreshadowing, these choices would remain poignant if we cared about these characters. But I found myself only vaguely moved by some of the dramatic outcomes. I shed a single tear for one character, in a game that wants to command devotion to all.
Why won’t you love me, Lucanis?
Speaking of devotion, shall we talk about the romance? I mean, that’s why we all play Bioware games, right? Saving the world is a mere justification for our thirst.
When I saw the trailers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard, I knew I only had one choice. I’ve had a thing for Mysterious Beard Man since Viggo Mortensen sat in a corner of The Prancing Pony smoking a pipe. Yes, I romanced Blackwall, and I will die on this hill.
So when Dragon Age: The Veilguard offered me a suave, coffee drinking Mysterious Beard Man in the shape of Lucanis Dellamorte, I was committed.
Spoilers for Lucanis Romance
Lucanis’ romance starts in a promising way. But his passion for the Antivan Crows and his position as an assassin overshadows the romance he has with Rook. While I can’t speak to other romance options, the cinematics failed to deliver on the promise of the dialogue. Lucanis delivers lines promising commitment while standing stock still. There’s hardly a kiss or a touch, just an intense stare and a bit of a smirk. It’s not a critique of the voice actor; it’s that the writing and the visuals don’t match up.
When you commit to romancing Lucanis, he makes you a paella and a coffee. Over 60 hours into the game, he still hadn’t kissed my character, and we were apparently dating. So much more could have been done with the sexy Antivan man… The least they could have given us was a gondola ride in fantasy Venice. I mean, Treviso.
Popping them blight pimples: Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Gameplay
Yes, the story is a hot mess. The romance was disappointing. But the combat is pretty good!
I played as an Antivan Crows Warrior in the Reaper class. Ooh boy, it was fun spamming enemies with necrotic damage, while wielding a ghostly scythe.
The action-adventure style gameplay, while good, is unlike the structured micromanagement of previous games. That’s not a bad thing; after replaying Inquisition recently, one frustration was how repetitive the gameplay became. Cast Static Cage. Cast Wall of Fire. Watch panicked enemies get zapped. But if you were looking for a more strategic RPG system, The Veilguard is not it.
It’s a hoot to fling a charged shield into a crowd, watching it pinball between clustered enemies while ratcheting up the damage. Do this a couple of times, and you’ve cleared out the lower level mooks to focus on the big tanks.
A lot of these combat encounters involve popping blight pimples that connect to a larger blight cyst via a blighted umbilical cord. How much you enjoy this probably depends on how much you like dermatology shows. It’s better to pop them all first, then mop up the remaining blight spawn.
There are a series of enjoyable optional boss encounters throughout the game. Again, I would have liked to see more variety in the actions and attacks of these enemies. Each dragon battle takes the same structure; it shoots projectiles from the air, slides to the earth near Rook while you madly smash weak points. About half-way through, the dragon leaps onto some sort of rock outcropping. Rinse and repeat until the dragon is dead.
Your weapon stats augment combat alongside a series of runes. You’ll have a hard time telling me why the Invulnerable rune isn’t the best for the most of the game. It allows players to become invincible for at least 10 seconds. This becomes invaluable when facing heavy hitting enemies. You can stand in the middle of attacks and not take any damage.
There are no trophies for difficulty level. So if you’re playing on nightmare mode you’re only doing it for the satisfaction and challenge. I chickened out of nightmare, but having played the game on underdog mode, I realise nightmare would have been fine. Success depends on exploring as much of the map as possible to upgrade your skills and equipment.
You upgrade your equipment by smashing crates, uncovering trinkets, and opening chests. It’s a never-ending stream of meaningless dopamine hits that would make sense in a Zelda game. There’s a loose purpose to this; selling valuables to faction stores builds up their loyalty. More loyalty unlocks better equipment at the stores. By the end game, you’re drowning in so much legendary kit, you’ll have a hard time choosing what to use.
Outside of combat, these maps are opened up by solving rudimentary puzzles using companion skills. Taash burns walls down. Harding commands rock platforms. Bellara fixes ancient elven laser beams. There’s a nice balance between Dragon Age II’s linear levels and Inquisition’s overly large maps. Unable to open up an area? Simply progress the story and you’ll find these places open up in time.
Finally, yes, it’s pretty
Outside the story, outside the combat, The Veilguard is by far and away the prettiest Dragon Age game. The franchise has come a long way since Dragon Age: Origins, the most brown video game ever made. I mean it, it’s 50 Shades of Brown). Here, dappled light filters through the Arlathan forest. Harding plants seeds under the sunlight through a window. Chiaroscuro carves the machinations of the Antivan Crows.
And the hair. It’s the most defined, delicate hair I’ve ever seen in a video game.
And yet, when it comes down to it, I’d rather do without the flashy outfits and glorious hair, in exchange for a more refined story.
A fun hairstyle keeps a player engaged for an hour. A brilliant story keeps them engaged for a lifetime.
Looking past the window dressing, the flawed storytelling of Dragon Age: The Veilguard undermines an enjoyable combat system.
I’m glad I played it, but unlike previous Dragon Age games, I won’t be playing it again.
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