Dragon Age: Inquisition - An Elf Shall Stand For All

This post contains spoilers for Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, and yeah, Dragon Age: Inquisition. 

This one has been a long time coming.

BioWare is one of the biggest names in video games today. The company has built a solid reputation for quality RPGs, science fiction and fantasy, and is famous for two main franchises. One is Mass Effect, a military space opera set hundreds of years in the future, where spaceflight and inter-species relations are the norm. 

The other is Dragon Age. 

First, some backstory.

In the Beginning

A few years ago, I came across Dragon Age: Origins, an epic fantasy RPG. The Grey Wardens are an ancient order dedicated to fighting the darkspawn1, subterranean monsters who swarm the surface world every few centuries in what is called a Blight. As the newest Warden, you must travel the kingdom of Ferelden uniting humans, dwarves, and elves against them, before the darkspawn destroy the world.

Yeah, kind of cliché. But the depth of its lore was impressive. And the choices the game offered surprised me. Depending on your actions, the story could develop in very different ways.

I grew up playing Japanese RPGs like Final Fantasy and Pokemon, which tend towards linear storylines. Western RPGs, however, place much more emphasis on choosing your own path. Will you be good or evil? Morally grey? Will you save those people or let them die? Et cetera. 

The option to be a bad guy was nothing new. But this was the first time a game gave my choices so much consequence. I wondered. What happens if the hero acts like a villain?

So I went on the dark side. As a warrior elf, I betrayed my own people, put a murderer on the dwarven throne, recruited the traitorous commander instead of killing him. The army I led to defeat the Fifth Blight was not made of elves, dwarves and mages, but of werewolves, golems and Templars. 

Needless to say, I had a blast.

The sequel, Dragon Age II, was more tightly focused. The entire game takes place in and around the city of Kirkwall. You are Hawke, a young refugee from the first game’s Blight. Over the course of ten years, you must rise from poverty to become Kirkwall’s Champion, the most influential person in the city. Here I took a more heroic stance. My female Hawke was a good person, though not afraid to defy the authorities for her own ends.

Kirkwall is defined by the dynamic between mages and Templars. Mages are feared for their powers, which also leave them prone to demonic possession. The Templars, knights of the Chantry – the church – guard them in fortresses called Circles. For their own safety, in theory. In practice, the relationship is one of prisoner and jailer. Corruption and abuses of power raise tensions ever higher, and things come to an explosive ending when a radicalized mage blows up the Chantry, killing hundreds. In retaliation, the Templars attempt to massacre every mage in the city. The mages rise up in rebellion against them.

If that’s not an allegory for modern-day terrorism and paranoia, I don’t know what is.

Dragon Age II was ambitious for giving such complex issues center stage. Unfortunately, the repetition of running around the same city streets, mines and hillsides over and over killed it for me. I gave up halfway. My Hawke would have sided with the mage rebellion. Alternatively, you can be an evil bastard and side with the Templars.

The reason I’m going into all this is that in the Dragon Age series, your choices are carried forward. In Kirkwall, a once-noble Warden who couldn’t stomach my actions in Origins returned as a drunkard. (Sorry, Alastair). Elves near the city commented on my Warden being one of their own. And so on.

See the appeal here?

In Dragon Age, you are constantly writing your own version of the story.

Which brings us to the third installment, the largest and most ambitious by far. Dragon Age: Inquisition is the definition of a AAA title. The game was released to critical acclaim, and was named by multiple gaming publications as 2014’s Game of the Year. 

It’s kind of a big deal.

But is all this praise deserved? 

After nine months and almost 120 hours within the game, I can say yes. Yes, it is. And not just for sheer entertainment value. Dragon Age: Inquisition is ambitious in more ways than one.

This is a story about religion.

An Elf Will Stand For All

At the start of Inquisition, events in Kirkwall have become a flashpoint for a full-blown war. Mages throughout Thedas2 have fled the Circles in open rebellion. The Templar Order has seceded from the Chantry in order to hunt them down. Divine Justinia V, the female pope, has called for peace talks. Mages, Templars and the Chantry elite converge in a conclave – and are ripped apart in a massive explosion that tears a rift in the sky itself.

They call it the Breach.

You are the only survivor.

Witnesses say you fell out of that rift. That a glowing woman saved you from above. You remember nothing, but your hand now glows with emerald energy. You alone have been granted the power to close the demonic rifts now opening across Thedas. They say you were chosen by Andraste herself, the equivalent of Jesus Christ, sent to save the world in her stead.

The Chantry leadership is in shambles. Mages and Templars are still at war. Demons are emerging from hundreds of rifts, and the unknown enemy who opened them is still at large. A movement forms amidst the chaos, aimed at destroying the demons, restoring order and discovering the truth behind the rifts. An Inquisition.

And who better than you to lead them? The one with the power to close the rifts. The one they call the Herald of Andraste.

The Inquisitor.

In Dragon Age: Inquisition, you are the Second Coming. A beacon of hope amidst the chaos. When people say they have faith in you, it’s not a figure of speech. They believe you will save the world.

So what kind of saviour are you?

This is my Inquisitor.

Tallen Lavellan.

Handsome, no?

He’d better be. I spent an hour making him. Lest that seem excessive, remember, this is the face you’ll be looking at for the entire game.

The character creation system is quite robust, with multiple options for every facial feature you could think of. Tattoos and makeup are included. There are even two different voices to choose from for each gender. Considering the amount of spoken dialogue here, that’s downright indulgent. Though weirdly, the default lip gloss setting is not zero. Thanks, but my guy doesn’t need to look fabulous.

So many options.

I was quite happy with how he turned out. I like elves. Always have, always will.

DA:I lets you play as a human, dwarf, elf, or as the hulking, horned Qunari. Humans are too bland. The Qunari are too alien. And I’ve never been a fan of dwarves. They’re short and stocky, practical folk who enjoy gold, caves, and machinery. We have nothing in common.

Whereas elves are skinny, long-limbed, have a thing for magic and wonder, and like trees. You can see where I’m coming from.

Your mysterious salvation is called into question from the start. The Chantry brands your fledgling Inquisition heretical, the people’s faith in you blasphemy. The theme recurs as the game goes on. How do you respond? 

This is the question Inquisition asks you, over and over: What do you think about religion? Are you a believer, a skeptic, an atheist? Was it truly divine providence that saved you? Pure coincidence? Something more sinister?

It’s complicated enough as a human. Other races have their own beliefs. The elves pray to their own pantheon of nature gods. The dwarves practice ancestor worship and a rigid caste system. The Qunari follow a strict, self-sacrificing ideology called the Qun. How would you reconcile becoming the saviour of a foreign faith?

I’d be skeptical. Wouldn’t you?

My Inquisitor took every chance he got to remind people that he believed in elven gods, not the Maker. He took a doubtful view towards Andraste, the Chantry and his purportedly blessed nature – while also being merciful, compassionate and going out of his way to help people. 

I wouldn't either.

I suppose I wanted to make the point that you don’t have to be religious to be a good person.

That said, my own beliefs made less difference than I expected. No howls of protest or anything. Even Cassandra, one of my most devout human companions, simply asked whether, with all my gods, I didn’t have room for one more.

And this makes sense, really. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter what you think. The people, your power and your miraculous survival have conspired together. Whether you believe or not, you’re still the Inquisitor.

The opening tutorial is quite linear. But the game soon sends you out to wander the world of Thedas, where you’ll be confronted by one of its defining features: this world is vast.

A Whole New World

Open worlds are the trend now in video games. It’s nothing new, games like the Elder Scrolls series have been doing it since the dawn of time. Successes like Skyrim popularized the genre, however. Today it’s become the norm for big-budget games to feature massive sandbox-style areas to run around in.

By any standard, Inquisition’s world is huge. The game is split into multiple zones which you can travel between at will. When the game was first released, players attempting to clear everything straight away complained about burnout, when they were really spending way too much time in the most generic zone. 

Get out of the Hinterlands.

It’s understandable. Those first farms and woodlands are larger than all of Dragon Age: Origins. In the first act alone, there are three such areas. By the second act, there are ten.

I did mention the game is big, didn’t I?

The different zones do an excellent job of providing variety. There are rainswept coastlines, sunlit steppes, and gloomy marshes. One story chapter takes place in a tropical jungle. There is no day and night system, but there are day and night areas. One desert region has glaring sunlight, another moonlit dunes.

It’s all very pretty.

Thedas is filled with sights like this.

It isn’t just looks, either. Every region comes with its own history. Take the Emerald Graves, a tragically beautiful forest. Once the heart of elven civilization, it’s said that every tree grows for an elven knight who died in the defense against humanity. 

The Emerald Graves.

Today the elves are a fragment of what they once were, reduced to second-class citizens in human cities and nomadic, tattooed clans who cling to traditions that are more myth than legend.

There’ve been other conflicts. The dwarves and the darkspawn. The Tevinter Imperium and the Qunari. History, alas, is often bloody.

Thedas is dotted with ruins, relics, and crumbling statues. Codex entries tell you local folktales, scholarly records and firsthand accounts of life from this time, in that culture. Even weapons and armor come with their own backgrounds. There’s a lot of reading here, but rest assured: it’s good writing.

Long-forgotten ruins are abundant.

Taken together, a remarkably detailed picture forms. Thedas feels ancient, lived-in. It feels alive.

All that space can be intimidating. Good thing you’ll have friends along to back you up.

You’ll Never Walk Alone

BioWare RPGs always feature a cast of well-written, three-dimensional characters. Charming assassins, devout spies, conflicted knights. It’s kind of their thing. Inquisition is no exception, with a diverse set of new faces, along with older characters returning in supporting roles.

Unlike Skyrim’s lonely freedom, Dragon Age is built around party-based gameplay, with three non-player allies accompanying you on your adventures. I mean, you can run off on your own if you want. But doing so would mean denying yourself a core element of the Dragon Age experience. 

It would also be suicide. But that’s beside the point.

See, a major part of the morality system is how your allies react to you. Characters will approve or disapprove of your actions. Your friendship with them will improve or worsen as a result. There are consequences either way, and in any given situation, it’s impossible to please everyone. By the end of Origins, every good and noble character had either turned against me or abandoned me in disgust. The evil and morally grey characters loved me – literally, in one case.

Morrigan is one of several returning characters.

Inquisition doesn’t make things quite so black and white. Every character here is a flawed individual, struggling towards their better nature. No one is evil, but everyone has their own quirks and prejudices which you may agree with, tolerate, or flat out oppose.

For example, the elven outlaw Sera genuinely cared for the common folk. Her desire to protect them from uncaring nobles was admirable. But her puerile sense of humour and contempt for pride of any kind – including in our shared elven heritage – got on my nerves. We never got along. Eventually, I kicked her out.3

The Grey Warden Blackwall, meanwhile, soon became one of my favorite characters. At first glance, Blackwall is gruff and straightforward, a simple soldier. He believes in honor and duty. He says little about the past but hints at regrets, a misspent youth. He approved of taking time to lay flowers on an old woman’s grave.

Blackwall’s past, however, turns out to be far darker than you’d expect. The man is a traitor, a murderer; children died under his command. He’s not even a real Warden, having impersonated a dead one for years.

But he has fought valiantly by your side. When you first encounter him, he’s teaching farmboys to defend themselves against bandits. The truth is only revealed when he turns himself in, rather than let another man be executed in his place.

Blackwall’s crimes are terrible, the kind it would take a lifetime to atone for. But he’s trying.

You see? Three-dimensional characters.

And they act like it. Your companions speak up on your adventures, commenting on new discoveries, the sights you’re seeing4. They talk amongst themselves, which is where a lot of character development comes from. Some will clash, while others get along surprisingly well.

It’s not just the world that feels dynamic. Your friends do as well.

They’re handy in a fight, too.

Fog of War, Storm of Battle

Dragon Age is built on the Western trinity of warriors, rogues, and mages. Warriors thrive in the thick of it, all armor and heavy weapons. Rogues are flankers, deadly but fragile. Mages are the weakest physically, but lethal from a distance. Put them together, and combat in Inquisition is gloriously chaotic. It’s frenzied, flashy, and fun.

Now, I love magic. Arcane explosions are awesome. But getting up close and personal is just more satisfying. (Probably got the feeling from Kingdom Hearts.) I was a warrior in the first two games. This time around, I went rogue.

Working as a team is key here, with all three classes supporting the others. Though you don’t have to stick to the formula. By all means, bring three mages and rain fire on your enemies.

Each class has various skillsets to invest in as you level up. For a modest fee, these can be reassigned at any time. Tired of dual daggers? Switch to bows. Later you can specialize and gain powerful abilities built around a certain type of gameplay. Knight-Enchanters and Necromancers are both mages, but favor very different playstyles.

I’m not a big fan of stealth, but it was pretty fun turning invisible at will and backstabbing enemies. Later I focused on poisoned weapons, then gave archery a shot (pun intended), before finally settling on the Tempest, a high-risk, high-reward specialization with elemental abilities. Because magic. 

I am the storm.

But you aren’t just limited to your Inquisitor. At any time in the field, you can shift control to any one of your chosen party members. Feel like calling down meteors as the elven mage Solas? You can.

Another favorite character, incidentally.

Alternatively, you can pull the camera back in Tactical View, enabling you to pause and play time while issuing orders like in a strategy game. This is a nod to old-school fans of Origins, which had a much greater emphasis on tactical control. The feature was useful for tougher fights like boss battles. Most of the time, though, I just didn’t have the patience for it.

Combat is thrilling. But sooner or later, you’ll want to take a breather.

Time to head to your stronghold.

Where the Sky Was Held Back

For the first time in the series, you’re not just the leader of a roving band of heroes, but the head of an entire organization. It starts small. Watching your Inquisition grow from a ragtag movement holed up in the mountains to a highly influential military and political force is very satisfying.

Well, you’re still holed up in the mountains. But you’ll have moved from a rundown village to a vast, majestic castle. Hogwarts, eat your heart out.

Skyhold, home of the Inquisition.

The fortress is in considerable disrepair when you first find it. Renovations are tied to the story, with more rubble cleared and sections unlocked as chapters are completed. Decorations like thrones and banners can be found or purchased, allowing you to change up the décor whenever you want. Now you too can be a medieval interior decorator. 

Appropriately elven windows.

Skyhold is your base area, where you return from your adventures. It’s worth a good hour or three of exploration by itself. The tavern is a highlight. Here a bard sings everything from playful ditties to sombre ballads. This was a pleasant surprise, and yet another sign of the game’s quality. Inspired by Skyrim, maybe.

Seriously. Some songs gave me goosebumps.

Your stronghold is where you can talk at length with your companions (once you’ve hunted them down, they’re all over the place). Most will have something interesting to say after every story development. In the process, you’ll learn more about them and (hopefully) gain their friendship.

Or, you know. If you want to be a jerk to everyone, you can do that too. There were one or two I neglected, but I stayed on good terms with most. Play your cards right, and you can even start a romance.

Romances are another BioWare staple, with several characters carrying the possibility of a relationship. Assuming you go about pursuing them the right way (which varies) your interactions will grow increasingly intimate. Things eventually culminate in a consummation.

All right, all right. A sex scene.

That’s not definitive, at least one relationship starts with casual sex and progresses to emotional attachment. There is nudity, but based on the earlier games, I doubt things get that racy. I didn’t even get any. My romance wouldn’t have been out of place in a Disney movie. Apparently, I just happened to choose the most innocent of all lovers. Imagine that.

So romantic.

That said, my romance also had a happy ending. Just like in real life, you can screw them up. You’ve been warned.

BioWare is quite progressive on this front. Bisexual characters have been around since Origins. Now, for the first time, there are exclusively gay and lesbian romance options. A trans character plays a supporting role. It’s up to you what to make of this. I disliked Sera for other reasons, and got along fine with the wry, flamboyant Dorian.

Then there’s the crafting system. Thedas is covered in herbs and ore deposits. Slain enemies will drop cloth and leather. Collecting all this junk is pure busywork.

Back at Skyhold, though, the herbs can be mixed into single-use potions, poisons, and grenades. The metals, cloth, and leather are used to forge your own weapons and armor, though you’ll need to find the right schematics before you can make anything. Except for the obvious wisdom of upgrading healing potions, I rarely bothered with the herbs. Whereas I spent hours crafting new equipment for almost everyone. With the right materials and designs, these can rival anything you find in the field.

In a nice little touch, you can even name your creations. What other Inquisitor has flaming blades called the Phoenix Talon and the Dragon’s Shadow?

Crafting is fun.

Armor and outfits, meanwhile, can be tinted, whatever color scheme you want from a wide selection. I loved this. Forget interior decorating. Now you too can be a medieval fashion designer.

Thedas' next top model.

Above all, your stronghold is where you exercise the might of the Inquisition. From your inquisitorial throne, you pass judgment over captured enemies, weighing the seriousness of their crimes against the political impact of your decisions.

I was merciful...most of the time.

You’ll also preside over the War Table, an interactive map around which you and your advisors gather to discuss the Inquisition’s movements. The Table is studded with missions for you to resolve with diplomacy, subterfuge or military force. Interactive stories, you might say. These play out in real-time, with the most basic missions lasting fifteen minutes and the most complex taking twenty-four hours. Responding appropriately will get you better rewards, and often unlocks further missions.

It’s all rather abstract, but it does give you a sense of the Inquisition’s power and influence.

More tangible actions, meanwhile, require actual Power and Influence.

You Underestimate My Power

In Inquisition, completing quests grants you Power, a resource that unlocks new regions and story missions, as well as enabling your forces to operate within those regions. 

Always satisfying.

Power is a brilliant idea in that it ties everything to the bigger picture. A perennial problem with open-world games is how your activities are often divorced from the plot. The world is in grave danger, but let me just go pick some flowers first.

While that’s still true here, Power makes a difference. Exploring, fighting demons and helping villagers aren’t just distractions; these activities build the Inquisition’s reputation and capabilities. You can then spend Power to overcome larger obstacles. Bandit problem in the Hinterlands? Have watchtowers built. Collapsed bridge in the Exalted Plains? Order it repaired. You won’t be leading armies outside of the main storyline, but it does make you feel, ahem, powerful.

That said, the game is quite generous with the stuff. Purely from doing whatever I wanted, I always had more than enough. I suppose the need to unlock new story chapters could chafe on someone wanting to rush ahead without any detours. If that’s the case, all I can say is, this is not the game for you.

You’ll also earn Influence, a secondary resource that unlocks perks like a larger inventory and new dialogue options.

And there are a lot of dialogue options. You can usually be noble, humorous, or forceful – the nice guy, the wise guy, or the jerk. You can often be shocked, stoic, angry or sad. Different races have special choices, as do mages. Influence unlocks things like court manners, historical knowledge, etc. Speaking the elven tongue with other elves went a long way towards making my Inquisitor feel unique.

But there are far more important choices to be made.

Change the World

Just like in earlier games, you’ll be called upon to make decisions that impact the world in serious, tangible ways. These situations are rarely black and white.

For example. At one point, you learn an empress is about to be assassinated.

The Empire of Orlais is embroiled in civil war. The Empress Celene is holding negotiations as part of a lavish gala at her manor. You attend, alternating between courtly pretense and hunting for clues. 

The Winter Palace.

There are three powers at play here. Celene, diplomatic and manipulative, struggling to defend her throne. Grand Duke Gaspard, driving force of the civil war and the man behind the assassination attempt. And the elven spymistress Briala, quietly playing both sides against the other, who also happens to be Celene’s former lover.

Celene favors diplomacy, but once had an elven village burned to keep her secrets. Gaspard is a bully who employs brute force and military might. Briala has been having negotiators killed to prolong the conflict.

No innocents here. You must resolve the civil war, one way or another. But how?

I allowed Celene to be assassinated. 

Though unpredictable, Briala supported elven welfare. Our interests were aligned. Gaspard became Emperor, but only after I blackmailed him into accepting Briala as the true power behind the throne. The politically savvy among my companions approved. The honorable and compassionate did not.

In the aftermath, Blackwall never mentioned the Empress' death. But he told me a story about how, as a boy, he’d seen some bullies tormenting a dog. He could have intervened. Instead he’d stood back, and done nothing.

No, Blackwall did not approve of my actions.

Later I learned there were other solutions. I could have saved Celene, then had her and Briala reconcile, giving Briala similar influence. Better yet, I could have forced all three of them to bend the knee to the Inquisition and work together, resolving the conflict without any bloodshed at all.

But no. In my story, Briala rules in all but name. Outraged nobles whisper of rebellion, even as the lot of elves improves throughout the Empire.

For better or worse, I’ve changed the world.

The End of All Things

At last, I defeated my adversary, closed the Breach and saved Thedas. Technically, I finished the game. But it’s not truly finished. When the credits rolled, only four of ten regions were near full completion. Two were fully unexplored. There are still places to see, dragons to hunt, songs and schematics to find.

The optional dragon battles are a highlight of the game.

A few criticisms. The ending is underwhelming, just the final battle and a brief celebration back at Skyhold. Actual closure is reserved for a DLC epilogue you have to buy and download separately. Maybe someday I’ll get it, maybe not.

The villain is one-dimensional, yet another ancient evil back to terrorize the world once more. Ho-hum. The post-credits reveal of the next instalment’s villain was much more satisfying.

What Pride hath wrought.

The post-game is disturbingly broken. You can still run around questing even after the story is completed, but I found that some characters would no longer speak to me. Crafting was inaccessible. I left Skyhold and returned to find all of my customized décor had vanished. Not that a big deal, I just reloaded a pre-ending save and kept playing. It was jarring, though.

I’ll try a second playthrough as a human female mage, for the different powers and perspective. There are alternate paths to take. My elf was a sceptic; I’ll make her a believer. My elven Inquisitor sided with the mages. What happens if a mage Inquisitor sides with the Templars?

I say try because fun though it was, there’s no way I’m doing every single thing all over again.

Dragon Age: Inquisition is a fantasy game, whatever that means to you. An escape; a creative outlet; a triumph of imagination; a waste of time. Perhaps all of the above. But fantasy is always defined by reality.

The allegories here aren’t subtle. The Chantry is Christianity. Mages and Templars are liberals and conservatives. The history between humans and elves is sadly reminiscent of Europeans and Native Americans.

Morrigan has a point.

Inquisition asks tough questions of players. At first glance, its answers are vague and unsatisfying. Then I understood: that’s the point. The writing here is more insightful than I realized, delving into the heart of humanity’s never-ending search for meaning.

It’s not just a matter of religion.

It’s a matter of faith.

In the end, you learn there was a rational explanation for what happened to you. The Mark on your hand, the glowing woman, all of it. History will name you the Herald of Andraste for what was only simple chance.

But look at everything your Inquisition has achieved. All the lives you’ve saved, the good you’ve accomplished. Look how far you’ve come.

Can you really say you weren’t saved for a reason?

That’s a question you’ll have to answer for yourself.


1 They spawn in the dark. What are the odds.

2 Fun fact: developers of Origins started off calling the world The Dragon Age Setting. The acronym stuck.

3 Funny story there. Sera is the only companion with a dedicated option to get rid of her. It’s almost as though the developers knew she’d be their most divisive character.

4 While sneaking through the Winter Palace, I’ll never forget Varric asking, in tones of hilarity, if we were really going digging through the Empress’ underwear.