Better late than never, I finally finished the other Dragon Age tie-in novel by David Gaider last night, The Calling.
The story takes place about ten to fifteen years after the events of the previous book. King Maric gets approached by a strange group of Grey Wardens from Orlais, who have an outrageous request to make: they need to go into the Deep Roads to prevent a Blight, and he is the only one who can guide them...
If that sounds like a strange setup, that's because it is, and pretty much all the characters in the story acknowledge it as such. I found it a little hard to suspend my disbelief at first because it seemed a little too far-fetched to me, but more than anything else I was simply intrigued, and in the end I felt that most of my doubts got cleared up in a satisfactory fashion.
Compared to Stolen Throne, The Calling feels like a much tighter novel. It doesn't take as long to get going, and the story it tells is also limited to a much smaller scope. Where Stolen Throne follows the rebellion across all of Ferelden over the course of several years, The Calling only covers a period of a few weeks and the action is mostly limited to the Deep Roads. Its outcome is still supposed to affect all of Ferelden, but since the book is so focused on its small group of adventurers in dark and narrow tunnels, the reader soon feels just as cut off from the outside world as the story's protagonists, and character interactions seem to matter much more than whether their mission will actually succeed or not. This is not a bad thing however, as characterisation is something the author does quite well, and it's fascinating to watch the characters' relationships develop.
Also, where Stolen Throne's ties to the game are fairly loose and it serves more as an introduction to the world of Thedas in general, The Calling draws much more tangible connections to the game. For one thing one of the Orlesian Grey Wardens is a young Duncan, who is unsurprisingly quite different from the wise leader that recruits you in the game. I've heard that the "big bad" of the book shows up in Awakening, though I haven't played that expansion myself yet. And finally, the ending can be interpreted in a very intriguing way in regards to one of your companions in the game - it doesn't entirely match up with information you're given in the game's codex, but that could simply be chucked up to an unreliable narrator. If you read the book without having played the game, none of these tidbits will stand out as confusing or strange, but as a fan you'll likely find them very valuable and interesting.
Just like it's precedessor, I think that The Calling has the potential to appeal to both Dragon Age players and fantasy fans in general. The main difference between the two is that the first book is more of a grand fantasy story, following the journey of a few major characters over the years and across all of Ferelden, while The Calling has a slightly larger ensemble and is much more focused on the characters and their particular problems, largely leaving the world of Thedas outside.
Sunday, 3 October 2010
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
The Stolen Throne
I finished reading this tie-in novel by David Gaider the other day. From what I had read in various reviews I expected it to be decidedly average, but I ended up being positively surprised. Then again, maybe my perception was just skewed by the fact that the last book I had read before was the WoW novel Arthas: Rise of the Lich King, which was a bit of a letdown.
Stolen Throne throws you right into the middle of the action in its very first chapter, describing the flight of young Maric, whose mother has just been murdered. I thought this was a bit clunky actually, as I found it hard to care much without knowing the context or anything about Maric as a character. However, his personality started to show pretty soon, and from then on it only got better.
I imagine that this book should appeal to Dragon Age fans and non-gamers alike - if you've played through the game, a lot of the little details will be familiar, but with the map at the start of the book and the author being quite good at describing the setting, I imagine that it should be just as easy to get into the story if you've never heard of the land of Ferelden before.
There are quite a few well-known fantasy tropes present in the story, but I don't consider that a weakness really. Just like the game itself, the book is happy to embrace certain clichés present in the genre and runs with them, turning them into something new and interesting in the process. For example I really liked what the author did with the "warrior maiden" Rowan, acknowledging that women are rarely as martial as men in Ferelden and that she's unusual, but still not making a massively big deal out of it. The only thing that bugged me a little was the characterisation of the Orlesian ruler, who was just so stupid and evil it was hard to believe, but fortunately he didn't get much page time anyway.
King Meghren aside, characterisation is a strong point of Stolen Throne. Maric starts out as the slightly naive, down-to-earth prince, who is nonetheless competent in battle and charismatic, but has to learn some harsh lessons on the way. You can understand why Loghain often gets annoyed with him but still can't hate him. Loghain himself is also very interesting to observe - you can see how he became the person we meet in the game, even if he's still a bit more focused on his own independence and not quite as jaded in the book.
If you fell in love with the world of Thedas while playing Dragon Age, I can only recommend this book as another way to find out more about the setting, but even if you're not a fan I think that it's worth a read - as a slightly different way of telling the story of a prince who has to reclaim his throne.
Stolen Throne throws you right into the middle of the action in its very first chapter, describing the flight of young Maric, whose mother has just been murdered. I thought this was a bit clunky actually, as I found it hard to care much without knowing the context or anything about Maric as a character. However, his personality started to show pretty soon, and from then on it only got better.
I imagine that this book should appeal to Dragon Age fans and non-gamers alike - if you've played through the game, a lot of the little details will be familiar, but with the map at the start of the book and the author being quite good at describing the setting, I imagine that it should be just as easy to get into the story if you've never heard of the land of Ferelden before.
There are quite a few well-known fantasy tropes present in the story, but I don't consider that a weakness really. Just like the game itself, the book is happy to embrace certain clichés present in the genre and runs with them, turning them into something new and interesting in the process. For example I really liked what the author did with the "warrior maiden" Rowan, acknowledging that women are rarely as martial as men in Ferelden and that she's unusual, but still not making a massively big deal out of it. The only thing that bugged me a little was the characterisation of the Orlesian ruler, who was just so stupid and evil it was hard to believe, but fortunately he didn't get much page time anyway.
King Meghren aside, characterisation is a strong point of Stolen Throne. Maric starts out as the slightly naive, down-to-earth prince, who is nonetheless competent in battle and charismatic, but has to learn some harsh lessons on the way. You can understand why Loghain often gets annoyed with him but still can't hate him. Loghain himself is also very interesting to observe - you can see how he became the person we meet in the game, even if he's still a bit more focused on his own independence and not quite as jaded in the book.
If you fell in love with the world of Thedas while playing Dragon Age, I can only recommend this book as another way to find out more about the setting, but even if you're not a fan I think that it's worth a read - as a slightly different way of telling the story of a prince who has to reclaim his throne.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
The art of persuasion
Coercion in Dragon Age is a weird skill. I suppose the main problem I have with it is that "ability to persuade someone to act in your favour" is an incredibly vague talent, since it basically comes down to talking, and everyone can talk. It makes sense that you can't make traps if you have no idea about trap-making, but whether you can convince someone of something is hardly completely dependent on special training, even if it might help a little.
On my first character I maxed out the coercion skill as soon as I could, and as a result of that many conversations felt... odd. If there was an option with the word "persuade" next to it in brackets, I knew that it was basically my "I win" button, regardless of what I said. Cocky mercenaries would turn into gibbering cowards after a single line, and confident knights instantly started to doubt all their beliefs at my word. The fact that the player character shows little emotion on her face and has no audible voice only added to the strangeness. If there had actually been an animation and voice-acting showing my character's amazing delivery of relatively plain lines, I might have been more willing to buy it, but as it was, the reactions I got just felt awkward and disjointed from the way the conversation had been going previously.
As a result I decided to go in completely the opposite direction on my second playthrough and forbade my new character from having any persuasive skills whatsoever. She was about as impressive as a wet sock. At first I was pleased to see the NPCs not be cowed quite so easily anymore, but it didn't take long for the pendulum to swing the other way.
For example I hadn't realised just how many times being able to be persuasive or intimidating had been the only alternative to combat. I suddenly ended up having to solve a lot more conflicts with violence than before, and I wasn't always pleased with the results. What's worse, after a while my lack of persuasive powers became just as ridiculous as the opposite extreme. I could tell people that the sky was blue and they'd still find an excuse not to believe me if the sentence had the word "persuade" next to it. I remember the werewolves in the Brecilian Forest as a particularly striking example. "Kill the elves!" I told them, and Swiftrunner growled at me, saying that he didn't trust me. And what does he say ten seconds later? "Let's just kill the elves!" Isn't that what I just bloody said? I was literally wringing my hands at that one.
I suppose the problem is that the Warden talks people into doing what she wants all the time, throughout the whole game, and it works regardless of coercion skill because the game supports it. Having some reactions suddenly tied to a skill when so many others aren't just seems kind of arbitrary, especially when the results can be as extreme and disconnected from the way the characters were acting before, such as during the werewolf conversation.
On my first character I maxed out the coercion skill as soon as I could, and as a result of that many conversations felt... odd. If there was an option with the word "persuade" next to it in brackets, I knew that it was basically my "I win" button, regardless of what I said. Cocky mercenaries would turn into gibbering cowards after a single line, and confident knights instantly started to doubt all their beliefs at my word. The fact that the player character shows little emotion on her face and has no audible voice only added to the strangeness. If there had actually been an animation and voice-acting showing my character's amazing delivery of relatively plain lines, I might have been more willing to buy it, but as it was, the reactions I got just felt awkward and disjointed from the way the conversation had been going previously.
As a result I decided to go in completely the opposite direction on my second playthrough and forbade my new character from having any persuasive skills whatsoever. She was about as impressive as a wet sock. At first I was pleased to see the NPCs not be cowed quite so easily anymore, but it didn't take long for the pendulum to swing the other way.
For example I hadn't realised just how many times being able to be persuasive or intimidating had been the only alternative to combat. I suddenly ended up having to solve a lot more conflicts with violence than before, and I wasn't always pleased with the results. What's worse, after a while my lack of persuasive powers became just as ridiculous as the opposite extreme. I could tell people that the sky was blue and they'd still find an excuse not to believe me if the sentence had the word "persuade" next to it. I remember the werewolves in the Brecilian Forest as a particularly striking example. "Kill the elves!" I told them, and Swiftrunner growled at me, saying that he didn't trust me. And what does he say ten seconds later? "Let's just kill the elves!" Isn't that what I just bloody said? I was literally wringing my hands at that one.
I suppose the problem is that the Warden talks people into doing what she wants all the time, throughout the whole game, and it works regardless of coercion skill because the game supports it. Having some reactions suddenly tied to a skill when so many others aren't just seems kind of arbitrary, especially when the results can be as extreme and disconnected from the way the characters were acting before, such as during the werewolf conversation.
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Seven ways to join the Grey Wardens
I finally finished the last of the six origin stories last night. One thing that I found fascinating when comparing them all is how different the circumstances are under which Duncan recruits you, and how this affects the way you'll feel about his offer.
For my city elf, Duncan was nothing short of her personal saviour. She was living in a ghetto, had just witnessed the death of one of her friends and her fiancé, and had followed this up with cutting a path of bloody vengeance through the residence of their murderers. There was nothing left for her in the alienage but the possibility of getting arrested, executed or worse. Duncan's offer to join the Grey Wardens meant freedom from persecution as well as from the generally very unpleasant city life.
My dwarf commoner had similar feelings after all the trouble she had got into, but the thought of leaving her best mate and her sister behind made her hesitate at least a little, because she wasn't sure whether they wouldn't get into even more trouble without her protection. (Maybe it's possible to build similarly strong ties with your city elf friends and family, but I just didn't feel them. Also, at least there was a certain sense of community and of people sticking together in the alienage, whereas it was more or less every casteless dwarf for him- or herself down in Orzammar.)
On my second playthrough of the mage origin I decided not to tattle to the first enchanter about Jowan's plans, which meant that I was in pretty deep trouble when we got caught. I think it would have made sense for my character to follow Jowan and make a run for it, but I guess Irving's expression of disappointment made her feel guilty. As it was she was going to have a lot of problems, though it wasn't entirely clear what the punishment for having helped a blood mage would have entailed. It probably would have been pretty unpleasant, so while Duncan's offer didn't get my character quite as excited as the city elf or dwarf commoner, it was still a welcome escape.
My dwarf noble should have been pretty damn grateful for being rescued by the Grey Wardens as well, but I have to admit the fact that she managed to kill several darkspawn in nothing but a pile of rags and that she had acquired a full set of armour and weapons by the time she met up with Duncan and company kind of took away from the feeling of relief and gratitude. After all, if she was such an awesome fighter, maybe she could have just fought her way out on her own before starting to plot revenge... nonetheless the offer to join the Grey Wardens was appreciated, it just didn't quite feel like a rescue, more like a willingly forged alliance.
The dalish elf origin has Duncan saving your life more than once, but the fact that he was saving my character from a disease she didn't really feel or understand at the time made it very hard to appreciate what he was doing. From a purely rational point of view she understood that he was doing her a favour, but emotionally, being taken away from her beloved tribe felt more hurtful than helpful. And why couldn't he just give her the cure anyway...
On my first playthrough of the mage origin, my character told Irving about Jowan and Lily's plans, even though she regretted it afterwards. However, what made it worse was that she didn't seem to gain anything from it. The fact that she had confessed to the first enchanter and was following his orders should have got her off the hook completely even in Greagoir's eyes. She liked her life in the tower and wanted to stay. Being sent off to the Grey Wardens despite of not having done anything wrong (in her eyes) felt more like an unjust punishment than anything else, and she was quite bitter about it for a while.
Worst of all was the human noble origin however. My character had just gone from being a pampered young noblewoman to having to fight for her life, her whole family had been slaughtered by an ambitious traitor, and even as her father was bleeding to death right in front of her, Duncan had the gall to ask him to give what might be his last surviving child to the Grey Wardens or he wouldn't help her escape. Frankly, that just felt like blackmail to me. My character's father had a few encouraging last words for her about how becoming a Grey Warden would bring honour to the family name, which softened the blow ever so slightly, but nonetheless Duncan seemed unnecessarily callous here, demanding the last child of a dying man or else he would leave her to die as well.
Basically, the different origins bring you into the Grey Wardens with an attitude ranging from pure delight to disgust at their cold-heartedness and anything in-between. However, this is an area where the game feels the need to bring the different choices onto common ground quickly: Those who were glad to join the Grey Wardens find out via the Joining that life in the order is going to be very harsh, and those who hated being forced into it get mollified by the friendly and respectful treatment that they receive from all sides, at least initially. And of course, once it comes down to you being the only one left to save Ferelden, it really doesn't matter anymore what you thought of becoming a Grey Warden at the beginning...
For my city elf, Duncan was nothing short of her personal saviour. She was living in a ghetto, had just witnessed the death of one of her friends and her fiancé, and had followed this up with cutting a path of bloody vengeance through the residence of their murderers. There was nothing left for her in the alienage but the possibility of getting arrested, executed or worse. Duncan's offer to join the Grey Wardens meant freedom from persecution as well as from the generally very unpleasant city life.
My dwarf commoner had similar feelings after all the trouble she had got into, but the thought of leaving her best mate and her sister behind made her hesitate at least a little, because she wasn't sure whether they wouldn't get into even more trouble without her protection. (Maybe it's possible to build similarly strong ties with your city elf friends and family, but I just didn't feel them. Also, at least there was a certain sense of community and of people sticking together in the alienage, whereas it was more or less every casteless dwarf for him- or herself down in Orzammar.)
On my second playthrough of the mage origin I decided not to tattle to the first enchanter about Jowan's plans, which meant that I was in pretty deep trouble when we got caught. I think it would have made sense for my character to follow Jowan and make a run for it, but I guess Irving's expression of disappointment made her feel guilty. As it was she was going to have a lot of problems, though it wasn't entirely clear what the punishment for having helped a blood mage would have entailed. It probably would have been pretty unpleasant, so while Duncan's offer didn't get my character quite as excited as the city elf or dwarf commoner, it was still a welcome escape.
My dwarf noble should have been pretty damn grateful for being rescued by the Grey Wardens as well, but I have to admit the fact that she managed to kill several darkspawn in nothing but a pile of rags and that she had acquired a full set of armour and weapons by the time she met up with Duncan and company kind of took away from the feeling of relief and gratitude. After all, if she was such an awesome fighter, maybe she could have just fought her way out on her own before starting to plot revenge... nonetheless the offer to join the Grey Wardens was appreciated, it just didn't quite feel like a rescue, more like a willingly forged alliance.
The dalish elf origin has Duncan saving your life more than once, but the fact that he was saving my character from a disease she didn't really feel or understand at the time made it very hard to appreciate what he was doing. From a purely rational point of view she understood that he was doing her a favour, but emotionally, being taken away from her beloved tribe felt more hurtful than helpful. And why couldn't he just give her the cure anyway...
On my first playthrough of the mage origin, my character told Irving about Jowan and Lily's plans, even though she regretted it afterwards. However, what made it worse was that she didn't seem to gain anything from it. The fact that she had confessed to the first enchanter and was following his orders should have got her off the hook completely even in Greagoir's eyes. She liked her life in the tower and wanted to stay. Being sent off to the Grey Wardens despite of not having done anything wrong (in her eyes) felt more like an unjust punishment than anything else, and she was quite bitter about it for a while.
Worst of all was the human noble origin however. My character had just gone from being a pampered young noblewoman to having to fight for her life, her whole family had been slaughtered by an ambitious traitor, and even as her father was bleeding to death right in front of her, Duncan had the gall to ask him to give what might be his last surviving child to the Grey Wardens or he wouldn't help her escape. Frankly, that just felt like blackmail to me. My character's father had a few encouraging last words for her about how becoming a Grey Warden would bring honour to the family name, which softened the blow ever so slightly, but nonetheless Duncan seemed unnecessarily callous here, demanding the last child of a dying man or else he would leave her to die as well.
Basically, the different origins bring you into the Grey Wardens with an attitude ranging from pure delight to disgust at their cold-heartedness and anything in-between. However, this is an area where the game feels the need to bring the different choices onto common ground quickly: Those who were glad to join the Grey Wardens find out via the Joining that life in the order is going to be very harsh, and those who hated being forced into it get mollified by the friendly and respectful treatment that they receive from all sides, at least initially. And of course, once it comes down to you being the only one left to save Ferelden, it really doesn't matter anymore what you thought of becoming a Grey Warden at the beginning...
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