Celebrating Dragon Age Day 4... and the Risk (and Thrill) When You Take a Leap

“That's what happens when you try to change things. Things change.” ―Hawke

"Mass Effect has N7 Day. Dragon Age needs something too! What if we did something ourselves, maybe on December 4 as 'D4,' and tried to do something good while we're at it?"

Those were the words of my good friend Teresa "I'maSithDuh," otherwise known as "T," chatting with friends October 2018, and the next thing I knew, she'd put in motion her idea for Dragon Age Day as an actual thing, with me and some other passionate and talented close friends from the fandom pitching in right from the get-go. 

It wasn't organized, exactly. T immediately had her idea and saw the need for a group. She asked us if we'd help, and we all felt the same way—that she was right, and instantly that we should do something. So we set forth with T, a tiny crew including Savvy B., Alistair SM James, Ghil Dirthalen, and Andrastini, and we were instantly a group, and galvanized! And we were so excited to do something new in the world, something that would celebrate the world of Thedas we loved and that would also genuinely help make a currently darker world a better place.

We got to work. Picked a charity (our first one, that year, was Child's Play). And somehow we made it happen. Somehow, we'd started something good!

Daring to be Great

Helping T form this group challenged me. I knew what to do from my work in PR, marketing, editing, etc., and now I could do it for FUN. I'm really shy, so I had never really enjoyed reaching out to people for PR (which is ironic but true after 20+ years), but now I could do so for charity, for something I loved! And somehow that made it easier.

So I was in. And I'm grateful to T, not just for the chance to help build Dragon Age Day from the ground up, but because she dared to think big. She taught me something with that. It was my first lesson in what happens in life if you just think of something and say 'what if?'—even if you don't feel important enough to make it happen, if you try hard, sometimes it happens anyway.

We just had this idea and started doing what we could. And I thought it would be fun to reach out to celebrities because, coming from PR, I knew how this could really boost our visibility. So I started researching reps and managers, getting information on who to reach out to as respectfully as possible, then making contact, convinced inwardly that nobody would probably ever respond, but it was worth a try. 

But of course, people did respond. And miracles started happening almost right away. Incredibly, people listened, responded, and donated. T's idea had become a real thing.

Flash Forward

And now here we are, and it's four years later, and our event has raised over $50,000 to benefit charities we care about (with 100% of all proceeds going to those charities directly). Andrastini and Ghil bowed out after the first year, and who could blame them—it was exhausting, and because we hadn't thought to incorporate postage (hey, we were new at this), our team absorbed all of the costs of our launch and it took years for some of us just to pay off postage and other assorted fees. We founders still cover all expenses—website, hosting, printing or shipping stuff to celebs where needed, but we do so because it's worth it. And we like that nobody will ever wonder "will my money actually go to the charity?" Our answer can be clear and short: "Yes. 100%."

But we got smarter and kept going. T, Savvy, Alistair and I kept on going, and soon our thing just kept on being a thing. We got the attention and unofficial support of EA and BioWare, who donated both funds to our charities and swag to our efforts, helped to boost our signal, and who have also provided their time and input to help us make the fans feel appreciated and loved on this special day of the year for years now.

As a group of Dragon Age fans, this attention was all we could have asked for, and continues to be a dream come true.

Lessons Learned

I've learned a lot over the past four years. Like what I can do if I have to. 

I'm really shy. But I've learned that I can overcome my shyness enough to talk to people, to even email celebrities and people I admire if the cause is great enough, like charity, and somehow they sometimes respond, and miracles happen.

And there's more. I don't like looking at myself, honestly (although I'm working on that). But I've learned to overcome that because somebody had to get on camera and ask the questions, and it turned out to be me. So now, for better or worse, there I am, annoying the universe in person, a human Muppet occasionally flailing at moments, but putting myself out there.

Those of you who read this blog know that I had a brush with death recently, and I'm still learning to manage life with heart failure. And that's been a learning experience too that's also been a direct part of this Dragon Age Day for me. Every time I thought of my terror at being on camera, or my fear of making a fool of myself, I thought about how happy I am simply to still be here, to still have the chance to grow and risk like that.

And then I go ahead and Do The Thing. Because this isn't the Fade, and this is all the chance we get. 

Celebrity Secrets...

I've learned from our celebrity supporters too. I've learned that in addition to her beauty and talent, you're never going to find a kinder person than Sumalee Montano, and that Jon Curry is just as funny in real life as Zevran. I've learned that Gideon Emery is a Renaissance man who can do anything (act, paint, sing, you name it), and that Ramon Tikaram writes as beautifully and elegantly as he speaks!

I've learned that Alix Wilton Regan is basically a real-life Inquisitor whose passion and drive could fuel the world, and that Nunzio DeFilippis & Christina Weir aren't just great writers, they're great talkers who are inspired by the same books and shows that inspired so many of us fans (and that there's always room in life for a little snark). And that Nunzio is a nice person when his interviewer utterly panics and unforgivably and mysteriously loses the ability to speak or pronounce his name.

I've also learned that Steve Valentine is as witty as Alistair, that Gareth David-Lloyd is so generous he would probably tear down the Veil for charity, that Mark Hildreth is incredibly nice even when your cat invades his interview, and that Corinne Kempa and Alec Newman are also really kind people who are willing to donate their time and effort just because they appreciate the fans and want to make a difference.

Basically, I've learned that sometimes, the people you admire for their talent and brilliance will  actually turn out to be even kinder and cooler people than you could have imagined, which is what happened when I got to interact with Patrick Weekes, Karin Weekes, and David Gaider, as well as the rest of the BioWare team, including the responders to our "Silly Questions" each year, like John Epler, Sheryl Chee, Lukas Kristjanson, Mary Kirby, Brianne Battye, and so many more!

Sharing Friendship and Fandom

I've also learned that working on something with friends can be amazing, especially when you're all fans of the same thing, like Dragon Age, and that when you bring on fellow fans to help (our volunteer team is now over 30 dedicated, amazing people) those people quickly become your friends as well. 

I've been so grateful for our incredible Dragon Age Day team because you're never gonna find a sunnier, kinder, more hardworking group of people. From T's passion for kindness and justice, to Alistair's superb management and tireless cheerleading, to Savvy's warmth, art, and graphics, I'm always inspired by my fellow founders and their leadership and support.

And that's just the beginning, because I also have to spotlight our team's rock stars like Azkabella, Nik, Rachel Hoover, Lumi, Kristen, Binky, Lady Iolanthe, Jessica, Jen, Janette, Liz, Cafe!, Felassan, Dymme, Jasmine, Gabby, Kala Elizabeth, Ashley, Sherry, Kemvee, Joanna, Morgan, Noire, Madeline McQueen, Sara, Zayne, Tina Cloud, César Allori, Andarateia, and many more!

We're just a group of fans, having a great time, celebrating Thedas, and supporting each other while try to bring a little healing elfroot to the world. And I've learned from every one of them.

Just Going For It

Most of all, I've learned that you have to risk and be brave to make a mark on the world.

So the next time you have an idea that seems impossible to you, or too big to risk, I'm here to tell you to DO it. Go ahead and try. 

Take me, for example. In the past three days, I got to interview some of my favorite artists on the planet, and spend some time in conversation with them—from writers Christina Weir & Nunzio DeFilippis (Blue Wraith), to actor Mark Hildreth (Resurrection, The Looming Tower, V, and Sten in Dragon Age Origins). I got to DM a Honey Heist game live, with a group of wonderful players including Eugenio Vargas, Karin Weekes, Patrick Bly, Josh Hood, Anjelica Grey, and my friend Teresa herself. As the icing on the cake, I tweeted a plea to Critical Role to support our cause and was absolutely floored when it was retweeted by Matthew Mercer and Dani Carr (and then Critter-hugged to a wonderful degree).

Again, it's a great reminder to go ahead and try for stuff. Just to go for it. You never know what will happen next.

I'm so happy with the lessons I've learned over the past four years. I'm so honored and proud to be part of Dragon Age Day, to work with my hardworking cofounders and our incredible team, and it's been amazing to watch it grow each and every year.

Thanks for being a part of Dragon Age Day, and here's to the next one. We've had our most successful year yet, and we have a lot of plans to continue to grow our event and charity outreach year round, as well, so stay tuned!

Now I hope you'll go forth, all you Wardens, Hawkes, and Inkies! And be brave! Take that risk. You never now what will happen next, and some dreams don't just live in the Fade. Some dreams become reality.

The Last, Worst Date (or, My Boyfriend Left Me in a Swamp and All I Got was This Stupid Wyvern T-Shirt)

 

SOLAS: I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me. So I am going to get a few smoochies, grab your highly toned elven posterior, and then cruelly dump you without a word of actual explanation, leaving you in a swamp full of hungry wyverns.

And so here we are, my fellow Solasmancer. That tragic, crucial point in Solas's romance when we've reached the last, worst date—when Solas realizes the cruelty of what he's doing and that there is only one solution: the cruelest cut of all.

I always knew it was gonna be a doozy, because the scene is so emotional and complex. But hey, since my heart right now looks and feels like a stomped orange, it's the perfect time to dive right into the lowest pit of Solavellan Hell, and get this party started!

NOTE: In the images here, I'm using those from my very first Solasmance, and as a little bit of trivia, I made her a redhead because I wanted to headcanon that Iron Bull (my previous romance, in my very first DAI playthrough) would see her and yearn after her from afar. I figured it was only fair after what Bull put me through in that first playthrough. So what you see is my poor little redheaded Lavellan, who was very sweet but had very little sense of humor, and here, she's about to get her heart absolutely obliterated by Solas. 

Tissues? Check. Cynicism? Check. Capacity for emotional upheaval? 100%.

I'm ready. Let's do this.

Where We Are Now

So in Part 4 of my analysis of Solas's romance, I took a look at the balcony scene and declaration of love (I know the URL says Part 3, but it's truly Part 4, apologies). Then later, I discussed his state of mind after the Arbor Wilds... and how he seemed especially shaken on the brink of achieving everything he wanted. 

But still, right now everything's beautiful as far as Solas and the romanced Inquisitor. They share a moment in the Rotunda after Mythal's Temple, after Solas asks her that pivotal question of what she would do with the power of the Well, and which leads right into the date...

SOLAS: Forgive my melancholy. Corypheus has cost us much. The Temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate. The orb he carries, and its stolen power… that, at least, we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive. 

A romanced Lavellan has a few potential options in her response here, so let's take a look at them:

First off, she can simply reaffirm that whatever happens, she and Solas will be together (I know. Ouch.):

LAVELLAN: Whatever comes, I will have you by my side.

ME: Oh, sweetie...

Option number two here is one of the most hotly debated among "Solavellan" fans, or Solas romancers, because of the implication that they may already be sleeping together:

LAVELLAN: You’re being grim and fatalistic in hope of getting me into bed, aren’t you?

SOLAS: I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit.

I've already given my case for why I feel this is a simple, flirtatious misdirect, and that they do not have sex. His denial in "Trespasser" is so emphatic I just feel there's no way they were ever together in that way, and I feel like that point of view is further backed up by the fact that there are no kisses on demand, and no love scene. 

But I know it can definitely be seen from both sides, and Weekes has also emphasized that it was written to encompass either point of view.

The third option in this conversation is a fairly strong echo of the romanced Inquisitor's last bedroom scene with Bull, where they may struggle with the idea that they may not survive:

LAVELLAN: You’re talking like you’re going to die. Stop. We’re going to get through this.

SOLAS: I hope you’re right.

No matter how the conversation has gone thus far, it ends with a plea from Solas for the two of them to escape for awhile:

SOLAS: Come with me, vhenan.

And then they're in an ancient elven shrine in Crestwood, where they wander through a breathtaking ancient series of paths and wide tunnels, culminating in two enormous hart statues of stone within. 

We may have glimpsed this area earlier, if we did the "Wyrm Hole" quest given by Judith, which then led us to a wide pond overseen by the hart statues, and bordered by lush green swamplands. 

There are three wyverns at this location, and sometimes if glitching in response to mods during the Crestwood date with Solas, those wyverns may actually pop in and out of the dialogue cutscenes (and it's pretty funny).

Of course, it's even sadder and funnier if we picture the fact that—after the events here—Solas simply leaves Lavellan alone at the swamp. Surrounded by wyverns.

But before we jump into the delicious heartbreak and kissage ahead, let's take a look at this interesting choice of location for their date, shall we?

The Harts of the Ancient Shrine

Why this place, this shrine? What does it mean to Solas?

While many have casually referred to the statues here as halla, they are harts, which have great meaning to the elves, and especially for the Dalish. For instance, if we play an elven Inquisitor and we do the Red Hart mount quest available on the War Table, we're gifted the hart and given this note written in flowing script from "a distant clan of Dalish," as follows:

We find our kin in strange places. Though we know not if you will carry tradition with you, we would see you carry pride in some form. For the wounded sky is all of ours, whether belief is shared or not. Let all see this, and convey yourself as we should be.

Emmasalin var suledin evanura.

If I break this down from a variety of Codices or notes, "emma" usually means "mine" but here I'm thinking it's plural and means "our." "Salin" seems to mean "again." "Suledin" means "endure," and "evanura" here may mean "honor." (If we get the sword Evanura in the Emerald Graves, it is noted as a "blade of honor" forged for Mathalin, the first of the Emerald Knights.)

So, considering that elven is a cipher, our elven note for a Dalish Inky could be something like:

Our - again - far - endure - honor.

So perhaps the sentiment could be, "With this gift, even from afar, our honor endures." Also, it's interesting, isn't it, that the note references the desire for the elven Inquisitor to "carry pride?"

Meanwhile, if the Inky is not an elf, they get a different note:

Perhaps you are not as we and do not share what we believe, but this threat is common to us all, for the wounded sky belongs to everyone. If nothing else, we would have you sure of foot in your journey toward victory.

 

Mas enasalin lasa revas evanura

This one may be a bit easier. "Enasalin" is "victory," "lasa revas" is "is/are free" and if "evanura" is again "honor," maybe this sentiment is "[may] - victory - be free - with honor" or, perhaps, "With this gift, we wish you freedom and honor in victory." Or, "with this gift, may victory be free with honor," perhaps? 

What do you think? Please suggest your own interpretations, as mine are very stilted here and I'm sure I'm missing all sorts of wonderful potential messages.

And of course, this could be totally wrong.

More Ancient Details and Guesswork

If we look back to previous visits, there are familiar statues to both Fen'Harel and to Falon'Din outside the Crestwood shrine.

There's a mural inside the encircling walls here that also appears at the Temple of Mythal, with the addition at Mythal's temple of a dragon image flying above.

So what's the mural? Are these elven slaves or armies? They're riding harts—are they fighting each other? The Evanuris? The Forgotten Ones? Are they, perhaps, creatures of Ghilly's?

This very same dragon also appears behind the waterfall here...

We've seen this more complete image—with the dragon—in the Temple of Mythal. We also see it again, later on, in "Trespasser." And we also find this dragon image repeatedly across Thedas (and even at Skyhold).

Which also reminds me of the Codex about the "sinner" who was egged on by Dirthamen and Ghilan'nain to commit the crime of high treason by taking on "a form reserved for the gods and their chosen," who "dared to fly in the shape of the divine." And of course, as we know, it's a rare instance in which Mythal was not merciful and fully unleashed her wrath.

Given what we now know about Ghilan'nain being pretty monstrous, this will undoubtedly come up again so I'm noting it here in case it's directly relevant.

While the harts are not halla, this does seem to be a shrine to Ghilan'nain, and the Venatori codex nearby does note that this is an "elven ruin."

So why does Solas bring her here? My guess is, despite all of my intricate guesswork above, that it's a relatively simple thing: It is an ancient place holy to the elves. The Veil is thin. So Solas likes this place because it feels like he is momentarily back in his own time. Perhaps it even makes him feel, for a little while, like he is young and hopeful again.

The Truth (The First Sudden Swerve)

The date begins as we go to the cutscene. Solas and Lavellan walk into this ancient holy place, and Solas is visibly happy—he comments on the atmosphere as they walk, hands linked. "The Veil is thin here. Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?"

It's not entirely clear, by the way, that the Inquisitor does feel what he feels. She doesn't respond, merely looks down and away, then back to him, openly inviting. Then he touches her face tenderly, and speaks:

SOLAS: I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me. 

ME: Oh, awesome! What's it going to be? A poem? A piece of jewelry? Maybe a pony? Or... maybe... finally... SEX? Although I admit that a cave floor near a bunch of wild wyverns wouldn't be my preferred location, but beggars can't be choosers, so let's do this!
SOLAS: Hold your halla. It's not that. Because I gave it a lot of thought and I really felt that...

ME: Uh-huh...?
SOLAS: ...breaking your heart was the gift that would keep on giving.
ME: Oh.
SOLAS: We're talking absolute devastation. Pulverizing your heart into little tiny smithereens.
ME: Got it.
SOLAS: What do you think?
ME: Oof.

I may have made part of the above dialogue up. Yes, I'm fine.

So what Solas actually simply says is, "I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me." And it's lovely and heartfelt. It is also where things get very interesting, fast.

The Inquisitor has a variety of potential responses, with Solas's replies varying from thoughtful, to flirtatious: 

Option 1 ("I already know"):

LAVELLAN: That’s not necessary, Solas. You’re my…

SOLAS: That is the question, is it not?

Option 2 ("Interesting!"):

LAVELLAN: I’m listening, and I can offer a few suggestions.

SOLAS: I shall bear that in mind. 

Option 3 ("You don't have to do that."):

LAVELLAN: I know what we mean to each other.

SOLAS: Even so.

And then Solas says, "For now, the best gift I can offer is... the truth."

He is presented as being open, loving, and wholly sincere. It's a big moment.

SOLAS: You are unique. In all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade. You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined.

And boom. This is where we have to commit and lock in the romance. Where we either tell Solas, "You know, I don't think this is going to work," in which case he is complimentary and courteous. Or we jump in happily with, "I feel the same way."

I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

It's diabolical, isn't it? For the unsuspecting and innocent Lavellan, for the player traveling this path for the first time, especially so. We have no idea what's just seconds away when we happily click "I feel the same way."

So we click. And he goes on, and there's still the smile there for "Then what I must tell you... the truth..."

And then he blinks—and changes direction. It's really notable, I think, that he stops smiling after "what I must tell you." It's right there, as he stumbles toward that phrase "the truth" again, that things get difficult.

He's brought her here, to this ancient place, to show her who he truly is. To tell her an impossible thing in a holy shrine to their lost people.

But he can't do it.

And he realizes this when? When looking at her face. Her beautiful face. And I think this is where it starts to go wrong, where reality starts to intrude for him. The dream begins to end and he's waking up whether he wishes to or not.

SOLAS: Your face. The vallaslin. In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean.

LAVELLAN: They honor the elven gods.

SOLAS: No. They are slave markings, or at least, they were... in the time of ancient Arlathan.

Potential responses here:

That doesn't matter.

That can't be right.

We were wrong?

That's a lie!

For me, the most interesting part of this is Solas's explanation, which is (as always) not entirely forthcoming:

SOLAS: A noble would mark his slaves to honor the god he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.

Isn't the truth actually even more devastating and complex? That the nobles he's talking about were originally the Evanuris themselves? For me, this adds a whole additional layer of grotesqueness to what Solas is explaining, because there was no "honoring of gods," in that case—at least, at first—the vallaslin were simply practical symbols of ownership. Like a bar code on a can of peas.

Ugh.

Echoes of Past Revelations

The Inquisitor and Solas talk a bit more here, with the tone from Lavellan either sad, accepting, outraged or defiant at the revelation, but again, what's interesting to me is that while Solas tries to assuage her sadness or upset, and while he may even compliment the Dalish for simply spawning her, his anger at the Dalish is still very much present.

And again, it's complicated. Remember, Solas went to the Dalish as the very first thing he did upon awakening. It's the first thing he reveals to us when we meet him, way back after the Conclave. He went to them, his people, to tell them the truth—to tell them the truth he is telling Lavellan right this minute.

And they turned him away. They threw him out.

That's what he cannot accept. While I truly think Solas's humility is genuine in that he doesn't see himself as a god, he is nevertheless still a prideful and occasionally arrogant man, and (to be fair) he knows this about himself. He may not be divine, but he is ancient and knowledgeable, possessing the secrets of millennia... and they threw him and his knowledge out like trash.

No wonder he hates the Dalish. He loves them too much to be neutral.

Now he's told this truth again, to the woman he loves, but it's not the truth he meant to reveal. 

The Vallaslin

Here's where we're faced with our next big choice... to keep or to remove the vallaslin? Lavellan, as before, can answer with an assured yes or no, or with uncertainty. Regardless, he is apologetic and gentle, noting in most cases that he didn't mean to cause pain, and that he feels selfish for doing so. Then she makes the choice. 

What to do? There are powerful arguments on both sides here. Many who choose to keep the vallaslin point out that it doesn't matter what these markings meant thousands of years ago—it's what they mean now that's important. And they're not wrong about that.

If she chooses to keep it, Lavellan tries to explain it to him, but he truly doesn't seem to need it:

LAVELLAN: I know you told me because you wanted to help, but the vallaslin is part of who I am. I hope you can see past— 

SOLAS: Stop. You are perfect exactly as you are.

I like that those Inquisitors who choose to keep the vallaslin are treated with the same love and respect by Solas as those who do not. He reiterates that he finds her beautiful either way, and accepts that she is at peace with keeping this cultural part of her heritage.

However, for me, it's always an easy choice to remove them. Solas's revelation always makes me want to wipe them away as fast as possible. Luckily, he's got a spell for that, and he offers it immediately.

If she accepts his offer, Solas looks visibly pleased. He has his equanimity back, and he's happy and loving here—this is something he can tangibly do something about. He guides her over to a place beside the lake where they can sit together (and—speaking from the shallow end here, it has to be said—looks smoking hot while doing so).

Now, I'm going to be shouting out to the Dragon Age Inquisition artists for their genius again in just a few moments (as well as to directors Mike Laidlaw and Pierre Michel-Estival), but there's so much beautiful stuff already happening in this scene visually that I want to point out as notable already, and it's visible just from the screen capture I've included above. Look how tactile everything is. You can almost feel the rough texture of Solas's tunic, and see the silkier texture of the edging around the neck. Look at the delicate coloration of Solas's face here—the freckles, the slight blush to lips, cheek, and ear. You can actually see the slight glisten of moisture or sweat on his face in the light from the lake.

When they sit together, the lake is a soft, limpid pool behind them, with the falls distant but still visible (and gently adding to the ambiance of sound as well).

What I love about all of this detail is that it's immersive and overall, it's deliberately sensual. It's creating an atmosphere that lulls us into the romance as surely as Solas's smile or Trevor Morris's light and rippling romantic score.

Once Solas and Lavellan are seated together, he removes the vallaslin, in another visually stunning moment that is among my favorites in the  entire game. I love the spark of illumination on Solas's eye here, the way his hands frame her face as he removes the marks. As is usual with Solas, the magic we see is blue-ish in hue.

Then the spell ends, and the deed is done. 

Solas speaks as he looks at her then, once the light fades: "Ar lasa mala revas. You are free." They are the same words he spoke thousands of years ago, the words he spoke to the slaves he freed when he removed these same markings from them at his secret fortresses.

I think it's possible that writer Patrick Weekes included this dialogue not just as Solas's traditional close to the spell, as something he's used to saying there, but as a possible indicator that—for this brief few seconds—Solas is back there in his mind, back in the past where he was truly alive and happy. Where, one has to imagine, his choices felt easy in comparison.

But Solas can't actually free the Inquisitor. Or himself.

Still, for a few seconds, it's enough. They stand together, the Inquisitor silent and (in my own headcanon, at least) coming to terms with the moment, and with this incredible change to her reality in that she has either not removed the vallaslin but must adjust to its true meaning, or that she has removed the vallaslin, and things have changed forever in a different way. 

A Permanent Shift

If Lavellan chose removal, I think this is a huge deal. Her face is no longer marked to designate her god or culture.

If you are a headcanoning fool (like me), if you are an overthinker who enjoys immersing yourself in this game, then this moment after vallaslin removal is truly so pivotal because she is no longer visibly Dalish. 

If any of you play the Dragon Age tabletop RPG, one of my favorite things about it is the fact that, man oh man, you REALLY understand when playing that game what it is like to walk through Thedas as (in my character's case of the past two years) an apostate and a Dalish elf. As a mage, you carry a five or six foot staff that has zero reason for existing except for the casting of magic (no matter how your mage might protest that it is, er, a bow, a walking stick, or a fishing pole). Oh, to be Felassan, with his magical staff that changes to an easy-to-hide twig!

Beyond this, even beyond class, and even if you aren't a mage, you are Dalish to the world. Your face is tattooed, and depending on which god was honored, marked heavily and indelibly on forehead, cheeks, chin, and even neckline. Everywhere you go, you are recognized as Dalish, and potentially trusted or distrusted as a direct result. In the RPG, this means that even a simple walk through a town or city carries risk, if you pass a templar, for instance, or an unfriendly guard. I've been shocked at how stressful it is to play a Dalish apostate, and have often envied my companions simply for their abilities to walk into a place, or to talk to townspeople, without instant danger or prejudice. It's really beautifully done.

It's also an accurate representation of Lavellan's world state.

Now, in Solas's romance, her visible Dalishness has been removed for all time. Lavellan can go forth into the world wearing a hat or headband covering her ears and no one will even know she is elven at all. Or she can return to her clan (if they survived) only to be met with distrust and anger at what she has removed. She is more disconnected in some ways than ever before, and (I think) is consequently tied more closely to her found family in the Inquisition. This is why I am so glad that Josie, at least, recognizes the loss of her vallaslin and comments on it (and it's a perfectly acted moment by voice actor Allegra Clark there, as Josie is shocked at the change, but instantly attempts courtesy and apology, assuming wrongly that the vallaslin was always removable).

Even before the terrible break that is about to occur, everything has changed.

A Moment in a Dream

But let's get back to the date, where Lavellan is enjoying her last few seconds of relationship happiness.

Solas is euphoric and loving, and whether he does the spell or not, he tells her how beautiful she is. The strings of Trevor Morris's score surge, and we're right up close with the two of them as they kiss passionately again, and (oh, Solas) of course he goes right in for another ass-grab, and who can blame him, as those interminable steps at Skyhold's entrance (and up to her quarters) have certainly done their job in creating a truly enviable elven posterior.

After a lovely shot of the two of them before the lake and its waterfalls, there's a cut in to an intensely close point of view, and this is where I think the direction and animation of the scene is diabolical genius.

They kiss more, and it's SO close and intense. Deliberately so. Again, we can see the texture of their hair and skin in almost photorealistic detail. The slight glisten of sweat or mist. We can, if we care to, count every single visible freckle on this side of Solas's face. We can see the scar above his right eyebrow better than ever before, and even the fact that his eyebrows are, yep, slightly auburn.

It's notable that the focus here is on Solas's face during the kiss, not hers—his eyes closed, visibly lost in the moment. It's inviting us into the subtle perspective of the kissee, of Lavellan as the recipient.

They kiss for about seven seconds total, if you count the seconds, which obviously I do, since I did it before back on the balcony, so why stop now? Besides, I once counted the scars on Bull's back, so I'm obviously willing to do the hard work here for my art. It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.

But yeah. That's all she gets. Six or seven seconds, and he draws away, and he looks absolutely lost, utterly in love, it's all wonderful, and then... 

BOOM.

We're still in so close here, when his face changes. The animation is terrific—his expression becomes subtly sorrowful, and he raises his eyebrows slightly as he draws away.

SOLAS: ...And I am sorry. I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.

The upset on Lavellan's face is also beautifully done, as we, the players, review our potential emotional responses from poor Lavellan here that include:

Sad: I don't want to lose you.

Angry: Are you kidding me?

Stoic: If you must.

I have played Solas's romance several times. I have been pleading and I have been angry, but never in between. Let's just say that I have never, ever, ever chosen "If you must" for actual story or character reasons. I love that this choice exists, but I can't quite imagine picking it.

The Complete Dialogue Trees

Below, I'll outline every single dialogue option that's available to us in terms of Lavellan's potential reactions to Solas's unexpected pronouncement. I'm doing so for a few reasons—first and foremost, to establish the fact that yes, there's nothing we can say here that will fix this. We can be accepting, devastated, or angry, and it doesn't matter. He leaves. He will always leave.

Beyond that, this reaction also has lasting consequences within the game story, as how Lavellan responds here emotionally is also how she will later respond when facing Solas again years later, in "Trespasser." If she's sorrowful and gentle here, that's how she will appear to him then. Or if she wants to throw fireballs at his pants? She's going to appear angry and hurt when she sees him again on that distant day (and I am here for it).

Sad ("I don't want to lose you"):

It's not surprising that the "sad" reaction offers the most complex and detailed dialogue trees...

LAVELLAN: I don't want to lose you.

SOLAS: Please, vhenan.

Next tier:

I love you.

Don't do this to me.

I believe in us.

"I love you."

LAVELLAN: Solas... don't leave me. Not now. I love you.

SOLAS: You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world—

LAVELLAN: Why not this one?

SOLAS: I can't.

"Don't do this to me."

LAVELLAN: Tell me you don't care.

SOLAS: I can't do that.

LAVELLAN: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a coldhearted son of a bitch and move on!

SOLAS: (silence)

"I believe in us."

LAVELLAN: I'm not giving up on you, Solas.

SOLAS: You truly should.

LAVELLAN: Whatever you need, we can find together.

SOLAS: No, we can't. You'll see.

SOLAS: I'm sorry.

He walks off, leaving her behind as we fade to black. Except in the case of "Don't do this to me," where SHE walks off and leaves him! And I love it so much.

Angry ("Are you kidding me?"): 

LAVELLAN: Wait. What? You bring me here, take the vallaslin from my face, and now you just end it?

Stoic ("If you must.")

LAVELLAN: All right. If that's your decision, so be it.

SOLAS: I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.

Next tier to both of the above:

You did: Everyone makes mistakes.

Great job: Well, we don't always get what we want, do we?

Your loss, asshole: Banal'abelas, banal'vhenan! (This translates from elven as: "Nothing-sorry, nothing-heart," which I'd essentially put as "You're not sorry, and you have no heart.")

SOLAS: I will see you back at Skyhold.

He walks off, leaving her behind as we fade to black.

 

As I mention, in most versions above, Solas leaves her behind in the swamp, with, as noted, the exception being "Don't do this to me," where SHE leaves him. And it is glorious.

Anyway, in my own personal headcanon, in all those endings where he leaves her in the swamp, a raging and tearful Lavellan then fights the three wyverns, traveling back at Skyhold thanks to, presumably, some eluvian or other fast-travel assistance from maybe Dorian or Morrigan. Either way, she arrives several hours later absolutely covered in blood, mud, slime, and wyvern dung. She then goes to the Herald's Rest and gets absolutely schnockered on maraas-lok.

But that's just me.

Regardless, it's all so well animated and depicted. The entire scene is a master class in voice acting, with a passionately emotional female Inky's responses in the American voice as acted by Sumalee Montano, or a softer, more anguished female Inky as acted in the English-accented Inquisitor by Alix Wilton Regan. And of course, the scene acutely demonstrates all of the sadness and conflict that actor Gareth David-Lloyd is able to put into his beautiful Welsh voice, as well.

Clues and Comfort from Patrick Weekes

I was not the only one to be unexpectedly devastated by my poor Inky's Solas dumpage, so I'll always appreciate that writer Patrick Weekes has been so accessible to Solasmancers who were similarly destroyed. Patrick has been sympathetic and kind to so many who were hurt or unhappy with Solas's actions (even when some people were rude to them—people, please be nice to Patrick, dammit!). And Patrick has also repeatedly emphasized that Solas indeed does truly love us. I mean, our Inquisitor. Aw, who am I kidding? It feels personal, doesn't it?

We're not mad because Solas dumped her. We're mad because Solas dumped us. Individually and collectively. And now we Solasmancers are now like this gigantic Blanketfort polycule cheering each other on, each of us going, "Solas will come back to you! I know it! He really does love you, hang in there!" And it's adorable. 

Meanwhile, in their interview with Nerd Appropriate years back, Patrick revealed some of Solas's thoughts in this  actual moment, as follows, and it's a gift for any of those Solasmancers who need comforting or reassurance that our fictional boyfriend did, in fact, care deeply:

WEEKES: If you want to see the utter sadness of Solas, it’s the playthrough where you romance him. You really get to see that he does care about you. It’s obvious, I hope, that his feelings for you are not fake. He cares about you deeply. He is always one step from telling you the truth about himself.

Like, for instance, what came across so fantastically is that he’s about to tell you the truth, pulls out at the last second, tells you about the vallaslin instead, and then again he goes in on the kiss and is so ready to just lose himself and forget about the past... 

And then he has to push back. He knows that he has to break it off right there, or else he’s going to have betrayed himself. It is so sad, and it has broken the hearts of many players, and it broke my heart when I wrote him.

Come on, be honest. It's a little satisfying to hear that it broke Patrick's heart too, isn't it?

Or is that just me?

The Path of Sorrows

And there we are. And there she is, alone, and hurting. And she's still alone, arms wrapped around herself, staring off that balcony where he first kissed her in the real world, at the end of Inquisition. It's tragic enough to make a person go off and create the world's saddest playlist... and then listen to it on endless repeat.

It's a tribute to the writing, direction, and rendering that this final scene of Solas's doomed Crestwood date is so painful, and that it comes across with so much genuine emotion and heartbreak.

I do think it's apparent that Solas loves Lavellan, and that she is not the only one whose heart is breaking here. However, dramatically speaking, for me, the difference in their ages is never more important than right here, because to me, that experience protects him even as its lack emphasizes her vulnerability and capacity for pain. Solas has lived for millennia, at this point; he has been able to better protect his heart, to add a little armor. She, on the other hand, is a young woman who has overcome trauma, imprisonment, open racism and prejudice, and even the potential loss of her entire family—and she has met every one of those challenges with courage and willing sacrifice. She has allowed herself to trust this man... and his response was to destroy her heart. 

She doesn't know why he's done that at this point; she doesn't get that it's precisely because he loves that courage of hers, and because he cannot face the expression she will wear when she discovers who he truly is, and what he truly intends.

I also think that, for Solas, his romance with Lavellan has been a respite, a healing thing that reconnected him to this world and showed him how much beauty still remained. Unfortunately on the other hand, I  feel that for the romanced Inquisitor, what happens here creates instead a deep and abiding wound, a betrayal that will hurt for years to come. It is that much more ironic, therefore, that Solas's endearment for Lavellan, used even in many cases when he is ending their relationship, evokes home and heart itself—especially when his words shatter it to pieces.

When it came to Solas's romance, we whose Inkies fell for our quiet mage were always doomed. "Atish'all vir abelasan," Lavellan was told not so long ago, or "Enter the path of the Well of Sorrows." 

Poor thing. She thought that sorrowful path was a metaphor. 

Solas knew differently. He's always known it was real.

Trespasser Turns 4: Celebrating 10 Favorite Moments...

INQUISITOR: We save Ferelden, and they’re angry! We save Orlais, and they’re angry! We close the Breach twice, and my own hand wants to kill me! Could one thing in this fucking world just stay fixed?

September 8, 2019 marked the 4-year anniversary for the Dragon Age: Inquisition DLC “Trespasser,” which is arguably the most impactful and tantalizing DLC of the entire game trilogy.

Personally, I still can’t believe it’s been four years… some part of me is still back there, honestly, listening to bard songs, weeping over the outcome for my Qun-loyal Bull, or still ruminating on that final conversation with my other digital boyfriend Solas, and enjoying the prospect of even more heartbreak to come.

From Origins through Inquisition, each chapter of Dragon Age has included a DLC that served as a tantalizing yet crystal-clear link to the next game. From Origins' “Awakenings,” to Dragon Age 2’s “Legacy” to Inquisition’s “Trespasser,” these DLC milestones provided a subtle step forward while presenting the issues and story elements that would be highly impactful in the next major release and a dramatic step in the game story.

I love all of these DLCs, from “Awakenings” and its bittersweet foreshadowings of darkness for some of its brightest characters (Anders) to the way “Legacy” pointed us directly into the bleakness and chaos of Corypheus in Inquisition.

But my favorite DLC so far has to be “Trespasser,” which provides us with everything we loved and hated about Solas in a single DLC, and which instantly paints him as someone who is both irredeemable in his goals and yet intensely worth love and loyalty (for many, at least) for the reasons behind his actions, as well as for his quiet and rather surprising continued loyalty to (and compassion for) the Inquisitor and the Inquisition.

Following are some of the most surprising and emotional moments in “Trespasser” for me… from joy to anguish and everything in between. Here goes!

1. The Time Jump

It's genuinely shocking to go into "Trespasser" and to realize that not only have two years gone by, but that our companions have gone on with their lives, often in poignant and significant ways. The Inquisition has grown, perhaps disquietingly so. Varric leads Kirkwall. Whether with the Inquisitor or Dorian, Bull and his romance have progressed in intimacy and commitment. Blackwall has found a newfound peace and purpose. Sera has found love as well as a newfound acceptance, regret and maturity. Dorian has come to terms with his complex family and heritage. Vivienne has settled back into her scheming, while still retaining her cold affections here and there.

We really get the sense that everyone has, well, lived, during the two-year gap. It feels real, and messy, and complicated, and I love it. For me, the one slightly sad element is that, unless romanced, the Inquisitor still feels a bit lost... in stasis. Committed to a larger goal that may no longer exist anymore.

My favorite aspect of all of this is the way the game story is actually daring to imagine a complex answer to the question: "Is the Inquisition finished? And if not... should it be?"

2. Oh, Teagan!

Feel free to fight me on this, but perhaps there is no outcome as unexpected or cruel for those of us who’ve been with Dragon Age since Origins as the revelation that Arl Teagan has gone, in ten brief years, from a sexy, elegant and supportive stealth hottie, to a bitter, twisted man prematurely aged and prunified by his circumstance. 

As a huge fan of Teagan in Origins (and who spent way too much time in that final Archdemon battle spamming heals and frantically making sure he was okay), I found myself mentally shrieking at him constantly in “Trespasser,” unable to process his loss of hotness (or empathy). Ultimately, I just ended up whispering “Who hurt you?” in answer to all of his bitter, nasty, political diatribes (even if he did, occasionally, have some genuinely good points about what, exactly, the Inquisition was still doing existing, for instance).

Also, that hat. That hat. Why, Teagan, why? (This is where I shake my fist at the heavens, as cinematically as possible…)

Honestly, I blame Isolde.

3. The Lost Worlds

Thanks to some gorgeous conceptual design and rendering, "Trespasser" gives us, at long last, an achingly beautiful rendering of what it might have looked like to walk way back in the glory days of Arlathan and the elven people. The ruins our Inquisitor navigates are stunning and regal, and are populated in bittersweet moments by flashbacks, books, spiritual memories, and are all the more painful because they offer a taste of something delicious we can't quite have for ourselves. We do not get to enjoy Arlathan. We just get these tiny glimpses. It hurts, and it's also wonderful.

4. The True Terror and Wonder of the Qun

Sure, we've heard stories from Sten, and (often heavily propagandized) from Bull. And we definitely saw the devastation on the small city-wide scale in Dragon Age 2's Kirkwall. 

But now, for the first time, "Trespasser" gives us a more expansive and terrifying real glimpse of the Qunari and its goals. We finally begin to understand that the Qun doesn't bend; it never bends. It pushes and pushes and either wins or it breaks.

For this reason, for me, there's always something extra-awful and sort of horribly lovely about our progress through the Darvaarad. Finally, as with the elven Fade, so many secrets unlocked and accessible! And yet, still so alien. As far away as ever.

5. The Missing Ones

It’s one thing to lose characters in Inquisition, depending on your choices. But if you played a colder, crueler or more insular Inquisitor, “Trespasser” can feel like a ghost town, an abandoned palace of emptiness. 

Depending on those decisions in both recruitment and in approvals, we may find no sweetly befuddling Cole outside the tavern, no teasing Dorian or Bull banter, no spa date with Vivienne, no surprising maturity and sweetness from Sera, and no warm and kindly update with Blackwall.

And if we chose to save the Qunari dreadnought in Bull’s loyalty quest in Dragon Age: Inquisition, sacrificing the Chargers to preserve an alliance with the Qun, then “Trespasser” is not only pretty grim, it’s downright depressing. With no Chargers, there is no lighthearted birthday celebration for Bull, no sweet Krem presence in the tavern, quietly protecting Bull’s blind spot, or (potentially, depending on your choices) romancing bard Maryden.

There’s just nothing. Nothing but Bull sitting alone at the bar, waiting for the moment when he sells his soul for good and all and his suffering ends. In the meantime, he does what he’s best at, and waits, drinks, and lies.




6. "Wait, We Get to Save a Dragon?!"

The revelation of the project entitled "Dragon's Breath" is both tragic and yet rewarding. We realize just how far the Qunari are willing to go, and it's doubly upsetting if we flash back to that conversation with Bull from Inquisition about the kinship the Qunari feel to dragons. It's one thing for them to fight a dragon free and clear and honorably; it's grotesque for them to harness and weaken one for their own aims.

As someone who always secretly hated killing the dragons (yeah, I'm one of those) in Inquisition, it's therefore doubly satisfying to be able to finally save one in "Trespasser." And that cutscene of the dragon smushing a fleeing Qunari warrior? Is glorious.

7. Everybody Loses Their Shit (Including the Inquisitor)

One of the biggest surprises for me in "Trespasser" was also one of my favorite emotional moments in the DLC. It occurs fairly late in the questline, when we’re nearing the end of the story, and in a terrific and very human moment, every single person in the room loses their temper. Including the Inquisitor. It’s a moment that shocked me when I first played it, because it’s the rare occasion in which our heroic, bright-eyed Inky goes full-on ballistic and has had enough with everything and everyone. But before she does? So does JOSIE.


It’s great drama, and it’s emotionally affecting because we haven’t seen the Inquisitor this way. Up til now, they’re arguably never out of control even during the most emotional moments of Inquisition. So the moment when our long-suffering Inquisitor, facing a scary and painfully disintegrating Mark, finally realizes their own mortality and simply loses their composure to their inner council of Josie, Leliana and Cullen is pretty surprising and powerful, and – best of all – it happens right after Josie absolutely loses it first (“Do you know what this has cost us with Orlais and Ferelden? They are planning to dismantle us as we speak! And perhaps they are right…”)

After Josie’s outburst, the Inquisitor’s Mark flares again, and they gasp, then actually scream in pain. Here, we can choose for them to react in confusion, in fear, in bravado, or (my favorite) with outright frustration:

INQUISITOR: Shit! Damn it! We save Ferelden, and they’re angry! We save Orlais, and they’re angry! We close the Breach twice, and my own hand wants to kill me! Could one thing in this fucking world just stay fixed? (They sigh, panting.) I need to get to the Darvaarad. You can all fight amongst yourselves once I’m… once I’m back.

It’s the first time the Inquisitor really loses it in the entire arc of their sufferings despite the Mark, and the moment is really beautifully played, no matter which Inquisitor voice you chose to convey it – Alix Wilton Regan, Sumalee Montano, Jon Curry, or Harry Hadden-Paton.

I especially love the final moments, when the anger fades, and they attempt to skip past the certainty that they won’t survive.

And from then on, there's this slight vulnerability to the Inky, taken right along down to that final run for the Darvaarad, when, once again, they admit to their companions (either in seriousness or as dark humor) that they're probably not coming back from this.

8. “Nothing Personal, bas.”

"Nothing personal, bas." Three words that will always resonate within the vast emptiness of my Dragon Age soul on its darkest night. (Well, those, and "Ar lath ma, vhenan...")

I always argue with those who characterize this as The Iron Bull’s “betrayal,” because to me that’s simply not accurate. While it’s devastating, Bull is betraying nobody here. In his loyalty quest (“The Demands of the Qun”), he asked us what to do, and unfortunately, in this specific Qun-loyal scenario, we answered “Bull, you must stay true to the Qun. No matter what the cost to you.”

Bull's answer: "Okay, bas" (Freddie Prinze, Jr. is a genius, because, with Qun-loyal Bull, that affectionate "Boss" nickname is gone forever... if we listen closely enough).

So that's brutal. Because Bull heard us, took orders like a good soldier, did exactly what we asked, right down to watching the slaughter of his entire found family (including beloved Krem), and then he predictably retreated back into the shell of himself for the sake of his own tattered sanity. My personal belief is that Bull himself died (or the best of him did) in that lonely final, devastating reaction punch after the loss of the Chargers back at Skyhold.

After that grief-stricken punch, my take is that our friend and companion Bull is gone, gone, gone—a shell going through the motions and pithed by our (and the Qun’s) demands.

It’s even worse if we read between the lines when “Trespasser” takes place, after this scenario, because the implication is that Bull has spent the intervening years back in the bosom of the Qun and (it’s heavily implied) under further brainwashing or “reeducation.”

Bull has, of course, potentially continued to romance the Inquisitor (or Dorian) for the sake of his calling, but coldly, without warmth. Until he is freed, rather ironically, by the Viddasala’s command, when he can at last take action against the Inquisitor who cheerfully ordered the killing of his family, revealing that to him they are not even worth the title of being called a basalit’an (a non-Qunari deserving of respect). Instead, the Inquisitor is just bas. A thing. And he can now, at last, unleash his grief from the depths and die fighting and feeling… something.

And, worst of all, still following orders. All the way to the death.

9. Solas's Confession... 

Surely there’s rarely been an RPG game conversation as cursed, complex, beloved, or debated as Solas’s final astonishing, bittersweet confessional in “Trespasser,” especially with a romanced (and dumped) Inquisitor. 

I'll be going through this in more depth later on as I finish analyzing Solas's entire arc (and romance), but for me, let's just say that his appearance in "Trespasser" is what great drama is made of, and entirely worth the wait.

It's a genuinely cinematic moment, and the BioWare artists and directors involved really deserve so many kudos here. The Inquisitor enters the ruined courtyard through the shimmering eluvian, confused and visibly shocked to find herself (if a romanced Lavellan) navigating a wilderness of grey motionless statues, Qunari warriors frozen in mid-attack. Trevor Morris's gorgeous music soars. As she makes her way through, we hear that voice we haven't heard since the steps above Skyhold, as Solas finally speaks—and the fact that it's been so long since we've heard it just adds to the impact of Gareth David-Lloyd's silken Welsh voice here. He speaks with slow regret and equal contempt (and who would have expected Solas's first words to be in Qunlat?). Just two short, devastating sentences: "Ebasit kata. Itwa-ost." ("It is ended. You all have fallen.") 

The Viddasala ignores his warning and attacks from behind, and in a casual blue flash of his eyes (not even bothering to look back), Solas petrifies her, freezing her in place and adding one more warrior to the silent forest.

And then he pauses, rather slyly. He doesn't turn around, and thanks to some superb character rendering and movement... it's so real for me. The little details. Like, I always get the palpable sense that he's using the drama, enjoying the moment and even savoring it. Then, with that hidden sense of wit and humor I've always enjoyed about the character, Solas glances aside, still mostly hidden from us, and says, simply: "I suspect you have questions."

And then he turns around, finally, to face the Inquisitor. 

And hot damn, he is totally working the ancient elven armor here. Every time this scene plays, several thousand loyal Solasmancers suddenly fan themselves then faint. So does Dorian.

Oh, boy. Where do we even start? And why is this segment only five to ten minutes long (or 15 if you linger over all the options)? I would have happily gone through, like, an hour of just finally talking to Solas. Or, who am I kidding? At least two hours. I would've bought an entire fourth Inquisition DLC that was just us talking to Solas in his Hot Ancient Elven Armor for hours. (By the way, "Hot Ancient Elven Armor" would also have been my preferred DLC title, although "Those Solas Thighs" would also have been a decent runner-up.)

Either way, we get the scene we've been waiting for, and after all this time, they talk. And Solas is finally honest. He reveals his ultimate plans, talks openly about his deceptions, and admits some of the darkest aspects of his motives. What makes this excruciating is that, of course, Solas also unveils his real self, past, sufferings, heroics, and more, right alongside his open commitments to actions that are both horrifying, short-sighted and grotesque.

Thanks to the care and delicate attention to detail by the Dragon Age writers in "Trespasser," and most notably by Solas writer Patrick Weekes, this moment is both satisfying and the very definition of complex. 

Solas is, by several accounts in past behavior, a hero, a freer of slaves and rebel against tyranny. However, his actions since his awakening (which, granted, were I believe highly affected by trauma) have certainly not been as clear or supportable, most especially in his deliberate conveyance of his Orb to Corypants), causing the Conclave explosion, as well as all of the devastation of the Breach and rifts across Thedas that sparked the events beginning Dragon Age: Inquisition.

To his credit, Solas was, and is, openly horrified by that outcome, and his work with the Inquisition was, I believe, his attempt to atone. 

But… his future plans are all the more frustrating and upsetting given the gentleness and romance of the scene with his romanced Inquisitor. And yet… Solas, who once disdained being called a god, who can now turn armies to stone with an eyeblink, who claims he is set on the path of death and cannot be moved from it... has nevertheless moved heaven and earth to both save Thedas from this latest Qunari threat, to protect the Inquisition and his former companions... and to save the life of the Inquisitor.

How do you react to someone who's saved the world three damn times right in the moment they've just confessed how they plan to singlehandedly end it?

So it’s an interesting conundrum, to say the least. Do we love Solas, or hate him? Thousands of fans eloquently defend options on either side. Do we choose to redeem him, or kill him, in the chapter ahead? It's not a given—one answer doesn't necessarily track with another here, as plenty of those I know who love Solas have, for instance, pledged to kill him if and when Dragon Age 4 shows up.

The genius of Dragon Age is that Solas knows that he is a paradox, and he expresses that knowledge, handing your protagonist a further weapon against him going forward.

I think that's my favorite element of this conversation. It goes against so many tropes in its own odd way; it's not a villain gloating, but a former hero mourning what he feels he will have to do. Instead, it's Solas going, "So, hey, schmoops, I haven't been totally honest with you, and there are things you need to know in the future so that you can fight me and have even the faintest chance of winning."

Solas may be the unexpected Big Bad of Inquisition and “Trespasser,” but he is also, so far, in this moment, the lonely and antiheroic Big Good. He can still go either way.

All we can do now is wait and wonder. And hope it isn’t four more years until we find out.

10. "I'm in the Book!"

Thank all the gods of Thedas for the never-ending prickly, adorable and complicated relationship between the Seeker and Thedas's favorite author.

Otherwise, those of us still weeping over Solas's final moments and that mournful epilogue would not have gotten the relief of Cassandra's inspired and ultimately delighted reading of Varric's tales about his years with the Inquisition, right down to fabulous impressions of all the characters (wonderfully and hilariously presented by Cassandra actress Miranda Raison) in the moment.

It's the perfect antidote to the near-operatic drama we've just endured in "Trespasser," and the perfect affectionate near-farewell to the companions we've all spent so much time with... a final reminder of what we loved about them... and what they loved about each other.

Perfectly embodied by Cassandra's overjoyed: "I'm in the book! I'm in the book!" and... "I am going to read the shit out of this."

As always (disgusted noises and all), once again, Cassandra is... all of us.