TEVINTER NIGHTS Analysis: Three Trees to Midnight

 "There are no more elves, no more humans. There are only bas, who must work to prove themselves worthy of serving the Qun."
—From "Three Trees to Midnight," DRAGON AGE: TEVINTER NIGHTS

WARNING: SPOILERS on TEVINTER NIGHTS! Please read at your peril!

So hello all you glorious people of Thedas,

I hope you're doing okay in this insane world, and most of all, that you are all staying safe and well.

I'm hoping to help provide an escape of sorts by analyzing all of the stories in TEVINTER NIGHTS that I feel specifically advance the lore.

So—please note. This doesn't mean I dislike or didn't enjoy stories I leave out, it just means that I want to actually try to note and discuss the new things we learn, and what aspects of those new stories might be subtly teaching us something that will bridge the gap (or even foreshadow) the potential game issues of Dragon Age 4.

With this in mind, I'm starting with Patrick Weekes's homage (for me, very real) to the classic story of THE DEFIANT ONES with a brief discussion of the overall story, and then some final tidbits noting what the story gives us in terms of new information. I will be doing this for many, although not all, of the stories in the anthology, slightly varying inclusion here and there if a theme emerges.

Please note—if I don't include a story you love, hit me up. My focus here is mainly on lore—what we get, what we learn, and and what will propel us forward. So I may love many stories but skip past if they don't give me tons of lore. 

Here goes!

The Story at a Glance

Put simply, the plot of "Three Trees to Midnight" is about a Tevinter mage named Myrion (hiding his talents for survival) who suddenly finds himself a Qunari prisoner, shackled to an elf named Strife (a Starkhaven city elf eventually adopted by the Dalish). After a brief and brutal journey by dreadnought, the two find themselves unwilling compatriots as they attempt to escape imprisonment with their lives in the misty forest of Arlathan, even as the Qunari elite pursue them at every step.

The scenario is timeless and irresistible—a trial by fire in which Myrion and Strife must match wits (and strides) to attempt to escape from the brutal prospect of slavery (or mindlessness) under the conquering Qunari. Each man considers his shackled partner a non-person then looks more closely to see themselves in each other's eyes.

"Filthy knife-ear," snarls Myrion at their first meeting.
"Lazy shem isn't used to working," sneers the elf right back.

Of course, it's a match made in heaven.

And of course, both of their assumptions about each other end up being oversimplifications and (mostly) outright wrong—both have lost loved ones in the recent battle, and both are better, braver men than they first appear to be to the other. And more loyal. Of course, they bond as they flee into the mysteries of Arlathan forest (and yes, I may have let out a delighted sigh when I realized where they were). In the end, they battle and evade their pursuers, bond over their shared danger and survival, and end with the prospect of a new life—however challenging—that awaits them.

What It Adds to the Lore (and Implies for Dragon Age 4)

"Three Trees to Midnight" starts off fast and never lets up, so it could be easy to skim past so many delightful new details and confirmations when it comes to the lore.

But here's what I felt was new information, so here goes:

• Approximately a year after "Trespasser" (I think?), Ventus, "Jewel of the [Tevinter] Imperium," has fallen to the Qunari. This is an important detail because I think it's painting a picture of just how inexorable and inescapable Qunari world victory may be (without help). It's also worth noting that we find out later that "the Antaam had attacked the bas of the South without the blessing of the other Qunari..."

• Another detail: One small ray of hope is that Strife's friend Thantiel had smuggled out information on the next Qunari invasion, and that's what Strife is able to recover and take with him. Based on comments from Strife, it looks like they are targeting Rivain, and Strife wants to help stop that, but he also simply wants to warn the clans before the attack (his friend Irelin appears to put that into motion instantly).

• Qamek is more concisely defined—not just as a chemical potion that wipes minds, but as one that appears to be alchemical—a combination of drugs and magic that is a bitter, viscous brown liquid. We later realize (per a gleeful Bas-taar, happy at their absence) that the Ben-Hassrath "measure" qamek, implying that some lighter doses may be less debilitating or permanent.

• We see qamek's effects firsthand (and that heavy doses are irreversible) first on Strife's friend Thantiel, and then (implied) on Myrion's friend (and perhaps lover) Jasecca. Turned into "walking corpses" by the drink, the only escape for those afflicted is death, and both Strife and Myrion provide that as all they can do for the qamek-cursed.

• The Qun was already terrifying. But under more brutal commanders like Bas-taar (the self-styled "Keeper of Bas," i.e., people-as-things), all men are put into work camps and all mages are routinely mind-wiped via the Antaam (or at least this command). (AGHGHGH).

• Another important element here is that we're introduced to the concept of the Qunari Huntmaster, an important figure who seems to straddle multiple worlds in the Qun, and who acts as a kind of freelance justicar. He's new to the Bas-taar's regiment and was sent (interestingly enough) directly by the Antaam to oversee him—it appears they are a bit concerned about his zealousness.

• When Strife introduces himself to Myrion, I instantly thought of how elves will often rename themselves after moments of transformation or trial. I wondered if Strife might therefore be the name he had just adopted after the battle and his imprisonment. As a city elf who was welcomed by the Dalish, could he be someone we have met before?

• At least some Dalish mages are shape-shifters, and the one featured in this story, Irelin, consistently appears as one of the halla, sacred to the Dalish and beloved of Ghilan'nain. She is also able to shapeshift at will into other animals, from falcons to bears and more.

• The Huntmaster is a wonderful character—his black and white facial vitaar seems to imply that he exists between the two, and in his first scene, he reminds Bas-taar that "The path of the Qun does not call for needless violence," even as he spares a seagull he could have skewered effortlessly. Bas-taar does not understand this kind of subtlety—there is no difference for him between the seagull and the prisoners they took, and all deserve to be skewered and tortured.

• The Huntmaster's facial markings are later revealed to symbolize sight, and his gift for empathy shows up in lovely details like when he notes (with "an edge") that the Bas-taar had killed all the mages he'd encountered—even those who surrendered and did not fight. It's interesting to further be reminded that the Ben-Hassrath would normally have judged which mages should have lived and died, offering the judgment of "No, this mage should live, do not hurt them more than necessary."
  
  Again, it all reminds us that—if we pay attention, this is a brutal Qunari conquest but not sanctioned by the Qun itself (reinforced when he attempts to break off the chase in Arlathan, as "there is too much we do not understand." Bas-taar refuses.

• I like the reminder that Myrion is a mage who can function without a staff, it just requires his training, ability, and a more precise connection to the Fade.

• Arlathan forest is reported to be haunted (not a huge surprise, given its brutal and shrouded history), and Strife remembers being told that in Arlathan, "Spirits remembered what had once been."

• Cool detail: It appears that most of the Qunari do not speak Trade very well (an interesting detail that may be important later).

• As he works to escape, Strife locks his thoughts to each of the elements of the Vir Tanadhal, the Dalish tenets legendarily passed down to them by Evenuris/goddess Andruil. Each tenet he recalls strengthens him and guides him forward—(1) Vir Bor'assan, the Way of the Bow, (2) Vir Assan, the Way of the Arrow, and (3) Vir Adahlen, the Way of the Forest.

• For me, Strife reveals some verified elements of Dalish cultural details... it's an intriguing reminder of the Dalish love for Andruil, who frankly always terrified me, so it sets her in a better, gentler light than I am used to. The Vir Tanadhal was not universal however (and was in some ways directly opposed by Sylaise's quieter Vir Atish'an, "the Way of Peace") but it certainly helps Strife here. Strife also calls upon Ghilan'nain, too, and later warns a scoffing Myrion, "Be careful how you speak of the Lady of the Hunt while you stand in her forest."

• Further on, what is a truly exciting is the revelation that Arlathan forest is protected across the ages, and that it lies under a mist of ancient elven magic that will actually feel the moods and emotions of interlopers, and respond automatically to threats, as we see here when a "forest guardian" (basically a huge elven golem of wood and stone, with blades of thick metal edged with lyrium) rises to combat the forest intruders. Strife later confirms that there aren't many of these golems, and that the guardians seem to be spaced by a day's march or more.

• Strife speaks the standard "Andaran atish'an" greeting, but the Arlathan guardian golem doesn't back down the way he expects it to. A sign of the world 'moving on?' Or is Strife just wrong here?

• Myrion gives us a rare glimpse into Tevinter mage tests, which appear to occur a bit earlier than the Harrowings in other parts of Thedas (he took his at 14, where he was tempted by a desire demon that took the form of a boy he had adored.

• Later, the Huntmaster (who has been trying to help the fugitives in subtle ways) reveals that he is "Saarbrak, of the Ben-Hassrath," and that even opposed to Bas-taar, that he is deeply loyal to the Qun, and his job is in fact to "destroy those who threaten the Qun," even if they are... within the Qun itself. I love this. He further notes that he is not Antaam. He is something else.

• “Some of the bas now call us monsters,” says the Huntmaster. He adds, "This is what threatens the Qun.” “Hass ebala-varaad nehraa,” he says after slaying Bas-taar in righteous judgment. Then translates for total understanding: “For those I watch, of which I am one.”

It begins in hatred, anger, and division. Yet it all ends with a realization of respect, of kindness, and (best of all) of freedom and found family, two of my favorite tropes across all fiction anywhere. What's not to love?

Meanwhile, what do you think? Did I miss any details?

Why Mages are Feared: The Creation of Anders

Anders is a complex character whose circumstances created and honed him
as sharply as any weapon.

Fenris: How have the templars not killed you?
Anders: I'm charming.

SPOILERS for all of Dragon Age (Dragon Age II, Awakening, and Inquisition)! I'm not kidding. Huge spoilers. HUGE. Read at your own risk!

What's the central conflict at the heart of the Dragon Age universe for you? Grey Wardens versus Darkspawn? Inquisition versus Corypants? Chantry versus Old Gods? Elves versus mortals? Ferelden versus Orlais? Tevinter or the Qunari versus the rest of Thedas?

For me, ultimately, the central conflict of the entire trilogy is the tragic and eternally bloody conflict of mages versus templars. And at the center of that debate is a single character, reviled, loved and debated beyond any other, from Dragon Age II.

In other words, gird your loins, folks, I'm gonna talk about Anders.

And many have done so, both for and against, for and balanced across all interpretations, across the fandom. So here's my initial take (I'll have more to say in my post on his romance in the future as well). Here we go!

The Tipping Point

To begin with, let's flash back. Near the end of Dragon Age II, things aren't looking good for our misfit band of heroes. Meredith is openly discussing enacting the Right of Annulment, to slaughter all mages in the Kirkwall Circle, when Hawke shows up. It's a surprisingly complex scene, as Orsino begs Meredith for time and sanity, and Meredith turns to Hawke and, in one of my favorite scenes for her in the game (and beautifully acted by voice actress Jean Gilpin), she comes pretty darned close to begging Hawke for understanding. 

It's a genuine moment of vulnerability for Meredith, and one of the little moments that, for me, makes her such a rich and interesting villain:

Meredith: What other option do we have? Tell me, Champion, that you have not seen with your own eyes what they can do... heard the lies of mages that seek power.
Hawke: Some of us weren't exactly what you expected. We're not the enemy.
Orsino (to Meredith): You would cast us all as villains. But it is not so!
Meredith (near tears): I know. And it breaks my heart to do it. But we must be vigilant. If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!
Orsino (firmly): This is getting us nowhere. Grand Cleric Elthina will put a stop to this.
Meredith: You will not bring Her Grace into this!

Then Anders walks up confidently in his gorgeous somber Renegade's Coat, raven feathers at his shoulders, prepared to unleash hell itself (and in a performance beautifully modulated by Anders DA2 actor Adam Howden): 

Anders: The Grand Cleric cannot help you!
Meredith: Explain yourself, mage.
Anders: I will not stand by and watch you treat all mages like criminals, while those who would lead us bow to their Templar jailers.
Orsino: How dare you speak to me—
Anders: The Circle has failed us, Orsino!

Justice flares blue in Anders's eyes and face, here, marking the moment. My own question is: Is Anders aware? Or is Justice speaking independently? It's a terrible question to contemplate. Regardless, he continues...

Anders: Even you should be able to see that. (The 'Justice' light fades from Anders's face...) The time has come to act. There can be no half-measures.
Hawke: Anders... what have you done?
Anders (looking away from Hawke): There can be no turning back.

In a tragic, terrifying yet absolutely gorgeous visual moment, the Chantry is
decimated by both fire and magic.

The Pillars of Fire

We then view the cathedral-like magnificence of the Chantry building in all its imposing and towering glory, and then cut to a scene inside, as a growing rumble grows around Grand Cleric Elthina and the other Sisters. A fiery red column of fire suddenly explodes up through the center of the Chantry aisle and into the ceiling, as they watch, horrified and trapped.

And then we're watching from afar again, from a beautifully cinematic master shot high above the city as the Chantry explodes in an even more massive pillar of real and magical fire that ignites the heavens and city around it in every direction (and massive kudos to director Mark Darrah here, as well as to the rest of the artists and effects team because it's utterly an unforgettable scene).

As the fire climbs to the sky, the Chantry's external religious statues topple from their pedestals (a wonderful and subtle note) as composer Inon Zur's music soars in a theme that is both heavenly and demonic. In a tragic, terrifying yet absolutely gorgeous visual moment, the building is decimated by both fire and magic, as red lines of power emanate both vertically to the sky as well as outward horizontally in every direction even as the massive column multiplies. For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath, and as horrible as it is, there's something transcendent here, too, as if the building itself is being lifted, opened, in a blaze of pale fire, as if the very wrath of the Maker has in fact descended to earth and lifted it in an invisible fist.

And then everything crumbles and the explosion becomes an implosion, the Chantry gone, the rubble whirling and coalescing tightly around the column of fire for the briefest of seconds—and then a second explosion obliterates everything else and blows it into powder, both earth and sky, and raining destruction down upon the city areas around it. And seriously, any remaining Kirkwall citizens who've survived the corrupt templars, the blood mages, the Qunari devastation, and more have got to be fed up by now—I mean, those poor people.

Either way, in seconds there's nothing left of the Chantry but ashes, and no more chance for compromise or peace, among mages and templars. The fury of the wounded mage has, indeed, shown why mages should be feared. And now the sky falls as a result.

"There is no compromise."

"There is No Compromise."

Everyone present, except for Anders, reacts predictably in the pause to follow, crying out in horror. Anders, cool and remote and ready for death, simply responds: "I removed the chance of compromise... because there is no compromise." This is not only tragic, but also a good place to shout out to writers including the always-brilliant David Gaider, who wrote the deft, light/dark Anders in "Awakening," and to Jennifer Hepler for her complex portrait of Anders to follow, which is both passionate and funny, and yet grim and fatalistic. She knows Anders through both prose and script, as seen throughout Dragon Age, both in DA2 and most especially in her searing short story on his terrifying and confused awakening from the joining with Justice—check it out here.

Meanwhile, what happens next? Well, as you probably know... it's not great. 

Because (of course)... Meredith immediately, and predictably, invokes the Right of Annulment. Which she was basically going to do anyway, but now she really, really means it (and gets to feel super self-righteous and great about it, even in the face of Orsino's patent and believable shock at what just happened):

Orsino: The Circle didn't even do this! Champion, you can't let her. Help us stop this madness!
Meredith: And I demand you stand with us. Even you must see that this outrage cannot be tolerated.
Anders (to Hawke): It can't be stopped now. You have to choose.
Hawke: Was that why you needed me to distract the Grand Cleric?
Anders: If you knew what I was doing, you would have felt honor-bound to stop me. I couldn't take that chance. The Circle is an injustice. In many places beyond Kirkwall. The world needs to see!
Sebastian: Elphina is not the Circle. She was a good woman. And you murdered her.
Orsino: You fool, you've doomed us all.
Anders: We were already doomed. A quick death now or a slow one later. I'd rather die fighting.
Hawke (one of many options): You're a murderer. The Grand Cleric. The mages. Their blood is on your hands.
Anders: I know.
Meredith: It doesn't matter. Even if I wished to, I could not stay my hand. The people will demand blood.

Then Hawke must choose the outcome—to kill Anders or allow him to try to mitigate his act by helping to save Kirkwall in the bloodshed to come. And Meredith draws her line in the sand (rather understandably, at least until she calls for the Right)... and it all goes to hell.

Sigh.

Anders wants to make a statement. But he's also officially lost himself, killed hundreds, doomed the very mages he wanted to help, and changed the face of Thedas forever.

How did we come to this? Well, let's look back... to the creation of Anders.

The Origin Story

The secret of Anders when we first meet him in Dragon Age: Awakening  (the wonderful DAO DLC that is seriously almost a full game chapter on its own) is that every joke carries with it a secret abyss of loss, damage, and self-loathing. Truth is, at least as I see it, Anders isn't funny because he's adorable and lighthearted; he's funny because he's walking on a very narrow wire and every single moment of humor or joy he can summon pulls him forward across the darkness.

Think I'm kidding? What's his name? What's Anders's real name?

We don't know. And that's the brutal truth of it, that we'll never know. Unless he survives the events of Dragon Age II and perhaps whispers that truth to a romanced Hawke, far away from the poisonous aftermath of that apocalypse, confiding in the darkest and sweetest corners of their nights together, able to be vulnerable at last (providing, of course, that the corrupting spirit of Justice has been either reduced or expelled).

Forget DA2's Fenris; the funniest person we meet in Dragon Age: Awakening turns out to really the one with the capacity to rip out hearts... at least, figuratively.

I'd argue that Anders was created by the Circle system; a weapon forged,
crafted and sharpened by the Chantry.

Make no mistake: Anders does a heinous and unforgivable thing. The wrongness of his act cannot be forgiven or undone.

The thing is, though, I feel that in many ways Anders was created by the Circle system; a weapon forged, crafted and sharpened by the Chantry, by a system of corruption, fear and abuse of power, and by the corrupt and cruel among the templars themselves. He was created as a bright and shining blade; one that the Chantry ultimately found turned against itself. And that blade was sharp.

So let's look at the creation of Anders.

A History of Pride and Poverty

Anders's family came to Ferelden from the Anderfels, the ancient land in the Northwestern part of Thedas. The people of the Anderfels are survivors, to say the least, having stubbornly gotten through  catastrophe after catastrophe, from centuries of intermittent occupation by Tevinter, desperate suffering under three of the four Blights, constant attacks by Darkspawn, and political upheaval. 

Even the weather is a study in extremes of hot and cold, of sun and storm, and the land itself is grimmer still, a series of rocky, shrub-covered steppes broken up by rocks and mountains to the west and south, hills to the North, and seas to the far east and west. In World of Thedas, Brother Berard, a Perendale Chantry cleric, described the Anderfels as "absolute desolation," and as a place evidently abandoned by the Maker.

I think the Anderfels is enormously important to the story of Anders as a character—it's the key to where he comes from and who he is inside, and its absolute indomitability, the hellish centuries of torment its people survived without giving in are Anders's own sufferings writ large. The citizens of the Anderfels remain a proud people—and justifiably so, as the only non-dwarves to live on the doorstop of the Darkspawn on a constant basis—and they are also by many accounts especially devout in their belief in the Maker and the Chantry. (I find this especially interesting since the Chantry eventually comes to personify everything Anders hates.)

The Fire in the Barn

Anders's father apparently retained strong ties to his home, even if he had left as a boy, so it's not surprising that quick, funny little Anders grew up with stories of the Anderfels and a sense of pride in his origins. With his confidence, intelligence and wit, Anders was apparently popular and well-liked in his little village, and his life up to his twelfth year was evidently content and peaceful. 

He was content, at least, until his magic manifested, and he accidentally started a fire in the barn. His mother tried to help him, to hide the magic, but Anders's devout father feared mages and that the magic itself was a judgment upon his family from the Maker. He therefore called for the Templars, who took the boy away in chains, by force, devastated and stunned, and with only a small embroidered pillow as his remembrance of his home.

Once taken from everything he loved, Anders was then imprisoned in Kinloch Hold, the Circle Tower in Ferelden.


Life in the Circle

Once in the Circle, Anders refused to speak to anyone for a long time, not even to the other apprentices, so people began to call him "The Ander" because of his heritage, and he took the nickname as the only one he would provide. He was watched day and night by armored soldiers who feared everything he was and everything he might become, and he did not acclimate quickly or well.

Do you think he harbored fantasies of being rescued? I do. I think that, as a child, he hoped for someone to come, or for some miraculous event to allow him to go home. And then he stopped waiting for rescue and attempted to rescue himself—he was just thirteen years old when he made his first attempt at escape, and he would make six more over the next several years.

This is the thing that I think must be spotlighted: While I'm sure many mages, if not most, acclimatized as a matter of survival, accepted the reality in which they found themselves, Anders was unable to do so.

Anders grew up, as far as he was concerned, in prison. Locked in a tower
in which the leading cause of death for his fellow mages was suicide.

This means that Anders grew up, as far as he was concerned, in prison. Locked in a tower in which the leading cause of death for his fellow mages was suicide. Watched twenty-four hours per day by armed soldiers poised to kill him if he stepped out of line. Some people can disregard the attention of others, yet still others can find attention, the feeling of eyes on their skin, as repugnant and invasive. I believe this was how Anders felt, and that he was either never able to acclimatize to that feeling, or (more likely) refused to.

The bottom line is that Anders refused to submit and refused to be caged. He ran every chance he could and I think he was simply incapable of doing otherwise. He just could not take imprisonment, even knowing he'd likely be caught, even occasionally and forlornly turning the chase into a game with the harried and weary templars (not all of them evil or corrupt) who chased, recaptured, and returned him.

What I find sad about the entire situation for Anders at Kinloch Hold is that, keep in mind, this was life at one of the gentler, better circles in Thedas (even after Uldred's corruption). My own reaction: Um... ooooookay. Congrats on your forbearance.

Love and Loss Under Watchful Eyes

When he reached adolescence, Anders finally found solace when he fell in love with an older boy named Karl Thekla, and for the first time, he allowed himself the love and connection he had missed since childhood. The two young men were inseparable for a considerable amount of time, became romantically and sexually involved, successfully passed their Harrowings, then Karl was sent to Kirkwall's Gallows mage circle when the Circle requested new talent, and Anders (for the first time in several years) attempted escape once again in order to join him, but was captured at the docks. 

Anders was able to maintain correspondence with Karl, and was then more severely punished—after his sixth escape attempt, he was put into solitary confinement for a year, with only the tower cat, Mr. Wiggums, for company, a notable story point for the Dragon Age mage who loves cats more than anyone else we meet (except, perhaps, Sten). Tragically, Mr. Wiggums evidently became possessed by a rage demon, but according to Anders, it took out three templars before it was defeated. 

While this is the most openly cruel punishment Anders endures (he does state flat-out in a banter with Sebastian in Dragon Age: II that he was never personally raped or beaten), it's still a pretty hellish one, because again—it leaves Anders with nothing to do but brood, to sharpen that blade of vengeance and hate, to turn inward and fester.

A Bargain with Death 

Then Anders ran again, a seventh and final time, and he only then comes to our attention in Dragon Age: Awakening, as having been found at Vigil's Keep, with dead templars and darkspawn about him. He is taken into custody and given the chance to join the Grey Wardens, setting him into our company with the new Warden-Commander—either the Hero of Ferelden if they survived Origins, or an Orlesian Warden (if the Hero perished in the final blow against the Archdemon).

Again, I think it's worth pausing and noting that Anders joins the Grey Wardens as a last resort, as a punishment, a sentence, as an alternative to death. He may act blithe about the opportunity, but I cannot see it as anything but one more punishment for the mage who'd survived a ridiculous amount of abuse at that point. He makes a joke. And then twenty more. Because that's what he's been taught to do.

But the saddest thing is, I think Anders absolutely is truly jubilant here, and joyful. Genuinely so. Because he's finally escaped. He's gotten away from that blasted Circle tower. Even if he has to risk death by Joining, what does it matter? He's risked death over and over again already. At this point, it's a friend.

Awakening Anders

In other words, even as early as "Awakening," to me Anders was still a tragedy in the making.

Many don't see it that way, and it's understandable. Anders seems fine, after all; he jokes about his near-execution, all's well that ends well, and after all, we're overwhelmed with meeting our new companions in "Awakening." All things considered, it's easy to find your own interpretation...

And, after all, Anders is quick-witted and instantly likable when we meet him in Dragon Age: Awakening. He seems okay, not exactly traumatized, even though I also feel, if we're paying attention, all that lightness is simply a mask as brittle as any Orlesian's. Yet even in those moments, let's face it, Anders is walking a path to a potential guillotine, and never too many moments from death.

For me, in playing the game at the time, Anders's blithe acceptance of the risks of the Joining ritual actually were the first moments that really touched me, because I (as someone who finds it terrifying) was touched that this renegade apostate mage would be so eager to join the Grey Wardens, or that he would find it so preferable to a world in which he would be returned to his previous imprisonment.

A Mage, a Cat, and a Cause

As we proceed through Dragon Age: Awakening, the thing about Anders is that, while he continues to seem charming, lighthearted, funny, and adorably attached to his brave little cat companion (Ser Pounce-a-lot!), all of this is as much a mask as the masks worn by other deceptive companions before and later. Me, I think that light-heartedness (even this early on) is as deceptive as Morrigan's silence, with her hidden agenda. As deceptive as Bull's, as deceptive as the blithe lies of Solas, Blackwall, or anyone else who deceived us in the trilogy.

Dragon Age II for Anders gets a bad rap, as a lot of fans complain about how Anders in Dragon Age II seems to have lost his sense of humor or joy since "Awakening." Me, I always greet these complaints with a squawking Cassandra-noise and raised eyebrows. Because, seriously? 

It's maybe my headcanon, or maybe I'm picking up on what Hepler is giving us, but: Were you paying attention? Anders was never ever as happy as he seemed, as joyful. Every second of enjoyment was hard-won, from the moment we met him, every bit of humor a flag flown against death and despair. So for me, those who simply want him to go back to being cute and funny seem willing to completely ignore both his origin story and the events and confessions of "Awakening."

To recap, let's review what we learn from Anders even as early as "Awakening:"

• He was taken from his home forcibly as a child
• He was allowed no contact with his family
• He spent most of his life since imprisoned against his will in mage circles
• He attempted escape repeatedly
• He has not disclosed—and does not disclose—his actual, real name, instead going by a general moniker for those from his part of Thedas
• He has undergone a year of solitary confinement in punishment
• He has witnessed templar abuses—rape, beatings, corruption, killings
• He has been hunted, trapped and returned by Templars seven times
• He's willing to risk the Joining in order to get away.
  

So many people ask, "Why, Anders?" Me, going through everything he and
the other Circle Mages suffered... I admit that I've had moments where I
asked, "What took you so long?"

Pity for the Mages

I've taken up far too many words at this point, so more in Part 2, in the future, but I just want to note that there is a reason Anders is the person he is in Dragon Age II. He was honed, sharpened, created, by the very system that mages ultimately rebel against as we begin Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Think of a cage, a prison. You are ripped from your family because a talent manifests. You are taken away in chains in childhood with only what you can grab as you are hauled off. You are allowed no further contact. No visits. No correspondence. You are watched every hour of every day by warriors in armor with power over you and all your compatriots, and for YEARS; by those who view you with antagonism, fear, suspicion, or lust. Sometimes they act upon those impulses when they think nobody's watching, and you witness this. Sometimes the worst of them then follow up by making sure the minds of their victims (or witnesses) are wiped via magical lobotomy, to keep their crimes safe, in the Rite of Tranquility, clearing them for future sexual crimes without possibility of refusal or punishment, or simply as punishment and loss of consciousness.

Or sometimes they simply send your lover away against his will, to serve someone else. Because your lives are not your own.

Again: Your life is not your own. As a mage, you are dragged from home, caged, watched, victimized, and then told what to do and where to do it.

It's grotesque.

So many people ask, "Why, Anders?" I understand this, as someone who would have fought his agenda in the end (and who in fact did not get the romance trophy because I refused to help him and even tried to warn Elphina). However, in spite of that, and in a fictional universe? I admit that, going through everything he and the other Circle Mages suffered... I've had moments where I asked, not "Why, Anders?" but, rather: "What took you so long?"

Is what he does right? No. Is it acceptable? No. Is it appropriate? Absolutely not. 

But is it surprising? No. It's incredibly sad to admit. But... no.

Nope.

I'll have more exploration of Anders in future posts, especially addressing his actions across Dragon Age II as well as his romance, but while I won't end this with the frequent fan clarion call that "Anders was right," I will admit, rather, that... "I understood why Anders did what he did. Even if it was wrong."

In the meantime, I'll simply state my own point of view: That the Chantry and the brutal Circle system created Anders. He is their monster, their literary Frankenstein loosed upon Thedas, both figuratively and literally.

Given that fact, to me, it was both ironic, tragic, and appropriate that the Chantry suffered for that creation. I only wish it could have happened without the loss of innocent lives.

The Warrior, the Thief, the Bull, and the Mages... (Dragon Age: Inquisition Overview, Part 3)

Vivienne is gorgeously terrifying, but if you're brave enough,
she'll be a valuable companion in DAI. Just don't piss her off.

As gorgeous as the game's environments and vistas can be, for me it's the characters in Dragon Age: Inquisition that resonate and stay in my memory—all of which are rich, entertaining, complex and beautifully written. As a gamer, I enjoy visiting the world of Dragon Age often, but I'm not there for the scenery—I'm there to visit its gorgeously rendered characters, companions and advisers—all of whom are complex enough to feel like beloved friends.

As Dragon Age: Inquisition unfolds, just as in DAO and DAII, the Companions and advisers to our protagonist in Dragon Age: Inquisition all share a few basic qualities: They're all brave, gifted, desperately seeking redemption... and lonely.

Each companion is, most of all, desperately alone in some intrinsic fashion that goes down to their very soul. Each is seeking connection, a cause, something and someone to believe in. And each—we'll soon learn—is at a crossroads, whether of faith, alignment, loyalty, or belief.


Hello, Old Friends...

Cassandra's back! And as in DA2, she's a formidable
warrior—as well as a secret fan of romantic drama.

The first Companions we meet in DAI are Cassandra, the fiery, strong female Seeker warrior we first met in Dragon Age II, and Leliana, the quietly deadly bard and spymaster we met in Dragon Age: Origins (provided, of course, you visited the Lothering Chantry).

Possibly no transformation or character arc is as startling or as moving as Leliana's—the charming young woman who was once our Warden's sweet, optimistic companion in Dragon Age: Origins is now a subtle and ruthless assassin who lives and breathes secrets, and whose delight in intrigue is exceeded only by her ruthlessness. Yet there are still signs of the girl we knew—Leliana still shows flashes of humor and sweetness, she still raises nugs as pets, and she still sings like an angel. She's also fiercely loyal, and while her inner circle is small, she would die for any of them without hesitation.

Cassandra, meanwhile, hasn't changed nearly as much (thank goodness). As DAI begins, she's still beautiful, blunt, fierce, and stubborn, but as always her loyal heart, tenderness and romanticism reveal themselves early on, even during the first early journeys with the Inquisitor. Cassandra's initial overzealousness is even revealed to be the product of a secret and understandable grief later on. As always with our DA companions, nothing—and no one—is ever quite what they seem to be at first glance.

It's always great to see Thedas's top dwarven hack writer. But
alas, Varric's still not romanceable (a tragic waste of chest hair).

We then meet up with our old friend Varric, the rogue, merchant, and pulp writer with the incomparable chest hair and uncomfortably close relationship with his crossbow Bianca. Varric's back from his narrow shave in Kirkwall, and because of the catastrophe across the land, he's now partnered up with his old nemesis Cassandra to do his part. And if you played DA2, you understand why Varric is guilty and fearful over the fact that he may have had a hand in bringing this catastrophe to pass.

The New Crew

Also traveling alongside Varric is a new character, an elven apostate named Solas, who very quickly demonstrates complex knowledge about the terrible breach in the sky (as well as about the magic/dream world of The Fade leaking through it). Solas is unassuming and quiet, but for those who look closely, he's already a fascinating and mysterious character. He's not Dalish (he wears no traditional face-tattoo) but is obviously not a city elf, either. He's proudly self-taught and is actually surprisingly confrontational in initial spirited debates with an elvish Inquisitor, revealing that he's not especially supportive of the Dalish OR the other elvish groups currently eking out segregated existences in alienages (conversations that are pretty sparky, challenging and fun if you decide to romance him). It's our first clue that Solas is someone who is worth exploring further as a character.

"This world is full of wonders for those who seek them." Elven
mage Solas is a fascinating companion who likes long walks
and spirited debates, but he's not a fan of group singalongs.

Meanwhile, the group eventually finds its way to early headquarters Haven, where we meet with our old friend Cullen, who's new an advisor—a Cullen who's now achieved maximum hotness, but there's a gentleness and sadness to him that is new to the character, and that adds a welcome complexity. He's joined by Josephine Montilyet, a diplomat who may be sweet as pie, but she navigates world politics and Orlesian deviousness with equal aplomb (even if she still, we find out later, plays with dolls when no one's looking). Alongside Leliana, these three people become our core council, and meet with our hero repeatedly throughout the game at the War Table to discuss quests, options, strategies in your fight against evil. They also increasingly reveal their own fears, frailties, and humanity to your hero depending on how you play (and whether you choose to romance them, in the case of Cullen or Josie, as the romances further expose their vulnerabilities).

Sera's funny and vulnerable—an expert archer whose favorite
word is "shite" and who shouts things like "Eat it! Ate it!" in
battle. (Just don't call her 'elfy.')

After a few more early storyline quests, we acquire the rest of our intrepid crew, and they as before are a group of incredibly complex people. You'll meet Sera, the funny, pugnacious and tough leader of a network of thieves and revolutionaries called The Red Jennies, and Sera's a mishmash of wonderful contradictions. She's hard as nails yet achingly vulnerable; she's an elf yet she utterly discounts and ignores her own race (and is in fact palpably racist against other fellow elves). She's adept at a shrug and a joke, she pretends to be uncaring, but Sera cares deeply about the common people, the peasants of Thedas who are most affected by the catastrophes afflicting the world. She's also witty and hilarious, but she can be startlingly rude, and in more than a few scenes I actually chose for my hero to tell her to shut up, because she was genuinely upsetting me.

At about the same time you meet and recruit Sera, you also meet her polar opposite, the icy and elegant Circle mage Vivienne. Voiced by the always fantastic Indira Varma, Vivienne is at first easily pegged as a snooty courtesan who strategically avoided the real hardships of mages by scheming and sleeping her way into a life of nobility, but as always with Bioware characters, yes, she's cold and focused, but she has real depths, fears, loves, and prejudices of her own.

Shortly after our return from the game's first major negotiation in Val Royeaux, we can go search for Grey Warden Blackwall in the Hinterlands, and we also receive an intriguing invitation to visit the Storm Coast to recruit the mercenary captain, The Iron Bull (marvelously voiced by Freddie Prinze, Jr.). And now I'm gonna have difficulty reining myself in, because Bull, like Solas, turns out to be one of the most subtle, complex, rewarding and mercurial characters in the Dragon Age universe (and I'm gonna have a lot more to say about him in upcoming blog posts about him alone).

The Captain of the Chargers

"I do some fighting, and drinking," says Bull, admitting he's a
Ben-Hassrath spy for the Qunari. "And then once in a while I
tell Par-Vollen about it." Turns out he's just a bit more
complicated than that—and one of the game's best characters.

At first glance, Bull's simply the obvious muscle. He's this big, bluff mountain of a man, a horned giant of the Qunari (the formidable warrior race we've met twice now, in DAO and DA2) who helms a likable, superbly capable band of misfit mercenaries called "The Chargers" as his personal combat unit. At first glance, Bull seems like a genial, if transparent, asset—he's so apparently open and honest that he tells you right away that he's a spy: "It might piss you off," he admits," but then he all but winks, just to allay our fears, calling out to his crew to pack up the booze and get ready to move. And it's all fine. He's funny, he's honest, he's a visibly capable captain and warrior, and he's on your side now. Don't worry about it.

But Bull's so much more than that. He's more complex, more subtle, and infinitely more intelligent than he first appears. He's a contradiction in terms—he's everything he appears to be, to a degree—he IS a caring, capable commander, he is incredibly funny, affable and fun to have around. He's just also working several agendas at once, answering to both the Qunari back at headquarters in Par Vollen, as well as to you and the Inquisition—all while balancing his own private fears and yearnings to truly leave the Qun and go rogue (or "Tal-Vashoth"). Bull's defining loyalty quest, "The Demands of the Qun," is therefore an especially brilliant moment, as it's one of those quests that catches a character at their breaking point. your decision there will either evolve Bull into one of the game's most joyful and fully realized characters or will send him into a chilling emptiness with devastating consequences in the DAI final chapter, the DLC "Trespasser."

"I want to stay," says the strange, shy and spiritual assassin
named Cole. "I want to help."

The last companions we recruit include the gentle and spiritual Cole, a gaunt, shy young man who speaks in alliterative, poetic words and phrases, and who seems able (among other things) to read minds. We also meet Tevinter mage Dorian Pavus, whose incredible handsomeness includes a curly mustache so flamboyant it has to be the source of a hidden superpower, and whose opinion of himself is only exceeded by his ability, kindness, and sense of humor. Like Bull, Dorian may be a representative of a hostile nation, but he's a lot more than that, and his personal loyalty quest is one of the richest and most moving in the game's storyline. The order in which you recruit Cole and Dorian is flipped depending on which faction you support (mages or templars) in the current world war—if you support templars (via the quest "Champions of the Just"), you'll meet Cole first, whereas if you support mages (via the haunting timebender "In Hushed Whispers"), Dorian will appear, with whoever is left appearing at the gates of Haven shortly after.

These are your companions as your game gets underway, and depending on your character's choices, they will be your Inquisitor's advisers, friends, lovers, adversaries or enemies.

Approvals and Judgments

The companions in DAI were easily the key to my falling in permanent love with the game, because they're all so richly drawn, beautifully written, and vividly acted. The game's approval system means that these people are all judging you, and will have varying approval or disapproval reactions to your quests, conversations, judgments, and actions. 

In other words, if you help a needy family in the Hinterlands? Bull, Solas and Sera—all constant supporters of alleviating misery and helping the common people—they will wholeheartedly approve every time. If you side with the templars, for example? Apostate mage Solas will disapprove. But if you side with the mages? Cassandra and Cullen will both voice their fears of the outcome. You cannot please everyone all the time, and navigating those opinions means that you will often have to wrestle with making decisions that feel right to your character, but which will also have tangible effects on their relationships.

Meanwhile, the game's relationship approval levels range from "slightly approves/disapproves" across the gamut to "greatly approves/disapproves." This approval system is a vast improvement on DAO's rather simplistic "gifting" approval system (in which you could simply bribe companions with gifts to increase approval), and is also more subtle than DA2's "friendship/rivalry" system, as well. In addition, thanks to the game's occasionally inconsistent but beautiful banter system, complex and continuing conversations between your party members will evolve as the game's story goes along. The result? Some will discover mutual respect and companionship, some will fall in love, and others will turn active prejudice into a more subtle respect. Even your advisers feel like they have outside concerns and passions, revealing little moments of worry, fear, kindness, or cruelty during your War Table missions.

Dorian is the handsomest mage in Thedas, and his mustache
has superpowers.

These approaches mean that your companions feel more like living, reactive people than like purely static or literary creations. The DAI companions feel like they have lives beyond your character. They aren't just waiting for your character to show up—they're off doing their own things—writing, drinking, fighting, singing, spying, etc. There are strong and joyful characters as well as haughty, cold ones and emotive, wounded ones, and they're always interesting and (best of all) surprising. Many of them also have personal quests for your Inquisitor, and those for Dorian, Iron Bull, Cassandra, and others are genuinely poignant and often surprising in what they reveal.

In the end, as in any great stories, it's the characters you'll remember most. DAI understands that, as games, shows or films all too seldom do.