Since I have yet to find something I can review (Diablo III is not an option since rental is out of the window), I decided to replay through the Dragon Age series. I finished "Origins" just an hour ago. This was my fourth time playing the game, but only the third finishing it.
As I had written in the smaller-scale blog I used to have before this one, I love "Dragon Age: Origins". It surprised me when it came out, because I was never either a fan or particularly good and knowledgable at the classic, party-based, dice-rolling RPGs (like Baldur's Gate). But thanks to the strong writing and meticulous design, it quickly made a fan out of me.
The problem, however, is that no matter how deep the choice system in a game, when the campaign lasts roughly 25 hours (not even counting the bulk of side-quests) and you know more-or-less what will happen during most of those, it's hard to sit through them again.
This time I enjoyed the game even more, because I played it right; I gathered the right party, I played each character's strength and the right build and I utilized all my rogue's skills, down to trap-making. It's a level of game that used to bore me.
As I finished the game (sadly not with the ending I wished-- FUCK YOU ANORA), I quickly moved to play the DLC campaign "Witch Hunt" for the first time. I've had the game's Ultimate Edition release for a while, I just never bothered much with the extra stuff. So, I booted the game and waited to be drawn in again in that fantastical world, a new adventure following my Dalish Elf's journey to sacrifice.
Aaaaand... cockslap.
See, I got the "sacrifice" ending, upon which I sent away my girlfriend, Morrigan (for reasons that matter little at the moment) and sacrificed myself to stop the Archdemon (the giant dragon that led the apocalypse). So, when "Witch Hunt" presented me with the option to import my character, I did. It was out of stupid curiosity, but I did and when my Elf rogue stepped into the screen, after the opening cutscene, a little something died in me.
No more than twenty minutes ago, king, fellow hero and -above all else- friend Alistair, was revering my character's bravery and my sacrifice to save the world. Shortly after I was reading in the credits the changes my actions through the game brought to the land of Ferelden and how awesome I was. I was content with my choices.
But suddenly, I had been resurrected. Out of nowhere, I was standing there again. The illusion I had carefully manufactured for myself had shattered. It didn't help that EVERYONE was treating me as the hero that stopped the apocalypse-- the same hero that was lying dead on an altar just a few minutes earlier. I was starting to miss the ending to "Fallout 3".
I considered starting with a new character, of course, but for the purposes of the DLC, the character would have to be a Grey Warden and most likely, the same hero that stopped the Blight. In other words, the new character would still represent that same her, it's just a failsafe in case no save data from the original had been preserved. So, what's the point? The sense of immersion is smashed to pieces in the exact same way.
That's the problem with the increasingly more popular "choice system" that Bioware in particular seems to indulge themselves into; more variables mean more possible answers and whatever follows up on the original equation will have to have accounted for all of them. Witch Hunt accounts for practically none.
I will eventually get around to playing Witch Hunt; probably after the next time I finish Origins, with a character that doesn't die in the end. But it's just one of those tiny disappointments one gets after enjoying something so much.
Christ, I'm going to start DA2 now. Last time I played that, I hadn't imported the save file from Origins. I dread at what may happen when I do.
As I had written in the smaller-scale blog I used to have before this one, I love "Dragon Age: Origins". It surprised me when it came out, because I was never either a fan or particularly good and knowledgable at the classic, party-based, dice-rolling RPGs (like Baldur's Gate). But thanks to the strong writing and meticulous design, it quickly made a fan out of me.
 |
| The enigmatic and expectadly bitchy witch Morigan is the subject of the "Witch Hunt" DLC. |
The problem, however, is that no matter how deep the choice system in a game, when the campaign lasts roughly 25 hours (not even counting the bulk of side-quests) and you know more-or-less what will happen during most of those, it's hard to sit through them again.
This time I enjoyed the game even more, because I played it right; I gathered the right party, I played each character's strength and the right build and I utilized all my rogue's skills, down to trap-making. It's a level of game that used to bore me.
As I finished the game (sadly not with the ending I wished-- FUCK YOU ANORA), I quickly moved to play the DLC campaign "Witch Hunt" for the first time. I've had the game's Ultimate Edition release for a while, I just never bothered much with the extra stuff. So, I booted the game and waited to be drawn in again in that fantastical world, a new adventure following my Dalish Elf's journey to sacrifice.
Aaaaand... cockslap.
See, I got the "sacrifice" ending, upon which I sent away my girlfriend, Morrigan (for reasons that matter little at the moment) and sacrificed myself to stop the Archdemon (the giant dragon that led the apocalypse). So, when "Witch Hunt" presented me with the option to import my character, I did. It was out of stupid curiosity, but I did and when my Elf rogue stepped into the screen, after the opening cutscene, a little something died in me.
No more than twenty minutes ago, king, fellow hero and -above all else- friend Alistair, was revering my character's bravery and my sacrifice to save the world. Shortly after I was reading in the credits the changes my actions through the game brought to the land of Ferelden and how awesome I was. I was content with my choices.
 |
| This is what happens when you boot the game, without letting it install properly first. |
But suddenly, I had been resurrected. Out of nowhere, I was standing there again. The illusion I had carefully manufactured for myself had shattered. It didn't help that EVERYONE was treating me as the hero that stopped the apocalypse-- the same hero that was lying dead on an altar just a few minutes earlier. I was starting to miss the ending to "Fallout 3".
I considered starting with a new character, of course, but for the purposes of the DLC, the character would have to be a Grey Warden and most likely, the same hero that stopped the Blight. In other words, the new character would still represent that same her, it's just a failsafe in case no save data from the original had been preserved. So, what's the point? The sense of immersion is smashed to pieces in the exact same way.
That's the problem with the increasingly more popular "choice system" that Bioware in particular seems to indulge themselves into; more variables mean more possible answers and whatever follows up on the original equation will have to have accounted for all of them. Witch Hunt accounts for practically none.
I will eventually get around to playing Witch Hunt; probably after the next time I finish Origins, with a character that doesn't die in the end. But it's just one of those tiny disappointments one gets after enjoying something so much.
Christ, I'm going to start DA2 now. Last time I played that, I hadn't imported the save file from Origins. I dread at what may happen when I do.
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