Two hours into Dragon Age: The Veilguard I started to get worried.
The introduction to the game had been crisp, an action-packed sequence reintroducing Varric, a much-loved dwarven companion from the previous games, and Solas, the antagonist from the twist ending to Dragon Age: Inquisition. The action combat felt immediately good and impactful; the environment art was visually spectacular and made creative use of vertical space.
The first two companions, a returning side character from Inquisition and a detective, seemed serviceable enough. Their introductions were glossed over, and they were just kind of “there” – certainly, they didn’t get a character moment as good as Lae’zel’s epic entrance on the Mindflayer ship in Baldur’s Gate 3 – but I knew there was plenty of time ahead to get to know them.
Out of the gate, the intro got me as excited as Inquisition’s epic starting sequence. I was thrilled to be back in the world of Thedas.
But then I was introduced to the Lighthouse, the player’s home base in the Fade – the mystical “between worlds” realm – and the first real quest, which involved a lot of wandering through an elven forest with Bellara, the most twee companion ever to grace a fantasy game (a high bar!)
It was then the cracks started to show. The level itself, though beautiful to look at, felt excessively linear. The mechanics were shallow. Combat remained crisp, but actual tactical options were limited. Puzzles were stock-standard open-world stuff without much grounding in reality.
I started to feel like I’d seen it all before. Place a gem here to open a pathway here. Kick a standing post down to bridge a chasm. Unlock this gate by turning a magical laser beam. Smash stacks of boxes for an extra three gold or a bit of heartwood.
And the clunky dialogue was rapidly wearing thin. The story was serviceable and the plot points were engaging, but the American-centric modern slang and on-the-nose delivery of information lacked character and style.
I kept playing. I’d completed every previous Dragon Age game, and I’m a fan of the series. I wanted to see it through.
Twenty-five hours in, trudging through Act 2 with all the companions unlocked, I’m still playing – but I’ve never had such a love-hate relationship with a game.
A Dance with Dragon (Ages)
Dragon Age: Origins, the first game in the series, was released in 2009. It was a fantasy game with a fresh new setting and a massive hit for Bioware. Building directly on the success of Bioware’s earlier work on the Baldur’s Gate and Neverwinter Nights games, it featured compelling tactical combat and a dark setting, where topics such as racism, economic oppression, and cultural conflict were front and center.
In tone, the setting of Origins struck notes similar to those in the modern Witcher series. Elves were blatantly discriminated against; dwarves were a fading society with a strict social hierarchy. Magic was regarded as dangerous, and strictly controlled.
I was an enormous fan of Origins; I loved the mechanics, the setting, and the storyline, and I played it through to completion several times. I was less enthused by Dragon Age 2, the bastard step-child of the series.
There’s a lot to like about the innovative elements in the second game. The focus on a single, well-realized city, the emphasis on companions, and the intriguing decades-jumping plot made for a compelling tale. One can sense Bioware taking the story lessons learned while making Mass Effect and applying them to the series.
The third game, Dragon Age: Inquisition, was released in 2014 – at or near the height of the popularity of open-world games. The game, disappointingly for some, continued the transition of the series from traditional role-playing mechanics to a more action-focused core but certainly did not skimp on epicness, scope, or polish.
Enjoying the series after Origins required me to set aside what I’d loved about earlier Bioware games. By the third game, the series had not only jettisoned its crunchy RPG mechanics for action combat, but it had sidelined significant roleplaying options in favor of more predefined characters like Hawke and the Inquisitor.
At the same time, meeting Inquisition on its own terms as a fantasy action game with character progression, the overall experience was satisfying. I liked the Mass Effect series; viewing Dragon Age: Inquisition as a fantasy Mass Effect helped me enjoy it.
Happy Together
So now, after a ten-year break, we come to the fourth game – Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Once again, Mass Effect DNA is strong in the design.
The structure of the two games is extremely similar, focusing on building a team to fight a world-destroying evil. The levels, though not as linear as Mass Effect’s corridor-centric setups, are seldom complex to navigate. Frequent waypoints gently guide the player to the next point of interest with generous, free fast travel available at any time.
That said, with open-world games now less dominant than when Inquisition launched, more linear levels are a good choice. As the game opens up and you revisit zones multiple times, more and more nooks and crannies are revealed, opening up options and scratching the exploration itch.
Indeed, one of the more surprising influences on Veilguard’s environment team must have been FromSoft’s Elden Ring. Veilguard features similar visual verticality (along with an overuse of bloom), unlockable shortcuts, and secrets tucked in every corner.
Early on, the player visits two major cities. Though the playable area of exploration is limited, the surrounding architecture makes the cities feel enormous in a way that Baldur’s Gate, with its primarily top-down perspective, couldn’t pull off.
Character art, by contrast, is a mixed bag. The developers chose a more stylized look than Inquisition, all smooth faces and slightly exaggerated body proportions. It’s not what I prefer, but it’s a valid choice – and it’s certainly possible to make a very pretty character.
Combat, the heart of the experience, has improved since Inquisition. The focus is squarely on your character; the two companions you can bring on each quest don’t even have health bars. Instead, they exist mainly to provide extra abilities in combat, as well as calling out alerts to you that are genuinely helpful (“watch out behind you!”)
If I have one critique of the combat, it’s how quickly enemies can get on top of you. With long ability cooldown timers and aggressive opponents, a lot of the combat ends up feeling like you’re dodging, blocking, or running away 90% of the time, rather than doing damage.
But when combat clicks, it works very well. Fights that seem impossible can be trivialized with the right abilities, companions, and gear. Character progression is interesting, with surprisingly good theory-crafting options – better overall than Inquisition’s similar systems.
The plot is strong and easy to understand. It doesn’t focus on moral complexity or shades of gray like Baldur’s Gate 3 does. All the factions are good allies; all your companions are supportive, useful teammates; all the villains are villainous. The complexities of class warfare and racism that Dragon Age: Origins explored are shoved aside in favor of a mostly straightforward good vs. evil story.
But the actual writing lets down the story at every turn. It’s beyond “on point” – it spells out basic concepts in the most generic and dumbed-down language possible, telling when the game could be showing. Key plot developments are repeated, explained, and then explained again. Companions emphasize their signature character traits in multiple conversations, to the detriment of substantive conversation (yes, Lucanis, I know you like coffee and cooking).
I’ve been told the writing improves later in the game. To be fair, there have been a couple of moments that hint at more interesting complexities to come. But around 25 hours in, I’m longing for a conversation that doesn’t feel like an AI summary of a more interesting one.
What’s also surprising is that alongside scene after scene of mediocre character dialogue, good writing is buried in the game – hidden in the countless tidbits of collectible lore that gradually fill up the in-game library, content that only a fraction of the audience will read. It feels like the writing team for the library material worked independently of the scriptwriters; the tidbits of lore contained therein are much better and feel much more in line with the content in the earlier Dragon Age games.
Feasting on Comfort Food
It’s impossible for me to play Dragon Age: The Veilguard and not compare it to Baldur’s Gate 3 – a game that does virtually everything better. I wanted to romance all the companions (well, maybe not Wyll) in Baldur’s Gate 3. In Veilguard, I barely wanted to have a conversation with my tediously repetitive team.
Yet I have to remind myself that the two games are made for fundamentally different audiences. Fantasy comfort food can be a nice break from modern grimdark sensibilities. There are days when I want to read the Malazan series, but there are also days I want to reread Lord of the Rings. Veilguard is comfort food in video game form – a polished and satisfying fast-food burger and fries, utterly enjoyable in the moment of consumption.
And there’s no doubt the Bioware team poured their heart and soul into its creation. The game’s best inspirations, from Mass Effect to Elden Ring to even aspects of Baldur’s Gate 3, are evident. Technically, the game performs well even on mid-range systems, maintaining solid framerates while delivering stunning environmental visuals.
Further, it’s beyond silly that the game is getting review-bombed for its attempts at a diverse and inclusive cast of companions. Though some of the relevant character scenes are heavy-handed and feature excessively clunky, on-point dialogue (like the rest of the game), at least an effort was made. (Baldur’s Gate 3 tackled a similarly diverse cast and issues of identity in a more skillful and subtle manner.)
I’m genuinely torn about Veilguard. Every time I fire it up, I enjoy playing – yet every time I consider firing it up, I want to play something else.
Last night, I hit a moment where the main character finally meets the Inquisitor, the player character from the previous game. This should have been a great plot point – the perfect opportunity for the writers to make two strong-willed protagonists bounce off each other, or even come into conflict.
Instead, the Inquisitor – a character model you get to design in the intro, much like the guardian in Baldur’s Gate 3 – monologued at me in a bad British accent, wearing a stupid-looking outfit, summarizing what he’s been up to since the previous game’s events. The dialogue was the fantasy equivalent of a series of boring PowerPoint presentation bullets.
My character had one option for a snarky response, but the Inquisitor quickly agreed with my snark and suddenly we were fast friends. A golden opportunity for interesting character development was squashed before it could flower.
I nearly quit playing right there. But then I went on the next quest – a fun and interesting romp through the catacombs under a city, featuring a couple of clever environmental puzzles and a great series of fights. I had a great time, slinging arrows and magic, darkspawn melting away before my party’s onslaught.
Ultimately, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is pretty to look at, enjoyable moment-to-moment, and appropriately epic for a fantasy story. The rough edges of the Thedas setting have been sanded away. It’s the gaming equivalent of an amusement park ride – never too challenging, never too thought-provoking, never forcing a genuinely uncomfortable moral choice on the player.
Maybe that’s enough for most players. Maybe, on the right days when I’m in the right mood, it’s enough for me too.
Dragon Age: The Veilguard is available on Steam. The Scree Games blog appears weekly on Tuesdays.