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[KvP]

Best thing about the Qunari is that Gaider said they were inspired by Islam after they were turned into demonic communists.

Qunari

The people of the Qun are, perhaps, the least-understood group in Thedas. The Qunari Wars were brutal, but so was the Chantry Schism. So was the fall of the Imperium. Some of this misunderstanding is an accident of nature: The race we call “qunari” are formidable. Nature has given them fierce horns and strange eyes, and the ignorant look on them and see monsters.

Some is an accident of language: Few among the Qun’s people speak the common tongue, and fewer speak it well. In a culture that strives for mastery, to have only a passable degree of skill is humiliating indeed, and so they often keep quiet among foreigners, out of shame.

But much of it is a result of the culture itself. The qunari view their whole society as a single creature: A living entity whose health and well-being is the responsibility of all. Each individual is only a tiny part of the whole, a drop of blood in its veins. Important not for itself, but for what it is to the whole creature. Because of this, the qunari most outsiders meet belong to the army, which the Qun regards as if it were the physical body: Arms, legs, eyes and ears, the things a creature needs in order to interact with the world. One cannot get to know a person solely by studying his hand or his foot, and so one cannot truly “meet” the qunari until one has visited their cities. That is where their mind and soul dwell.

In Seheron and Par Vollen, one can truly see the qunari in their entirety. There, the unification of the qunari into a single being is most evident. Workers, whom the Qun calls the mind, produce everything the qunari require. The soul, the priesthood, seeks a greater understanding of the self, the world, and exhorts the body and mind to continually strive for perfection. The body serves as the go-between for the mind, the soul, and the world. Everyone and everything has a place, decided by the Qun, in which they work for the good of the whole. It is a life of certainty, of equality, if not individuality.

–From the writings of the Seer of Qont-arr, 8:41 Blessed.

[Alex C]

I just don't feel like browbeating KvP into self-censorship out of some need to defend David Gaider's honor, that's all. I'm willing to put up with some snark if there's more to a post than some screenshots.

[Josefbugman]

I thought he said they were Militant Buddhist Borg. And they are partially inspired by the Turks from what I remember (what with the Tevinter being Byzantium afterall).

To be honest they seem like collectivist, turkish, confucian buddhists. It'll be interesting to see how they interact with the rest of the world if we ever get to see their home cities.

[KvP]

I don't mind people taking issue with what I post. It's not a big deal.

Anyway, this is what Gaider said on the Bioboards

The qunari are sort of like what you'd get if you crossed Islam with the Borg. Hmm. *writes that down*

In a rare bit of self-consciousness the admins more or less immediately backtracked, and anyone who brings the quote up is banned.

[KvP]

Really it's a problem with fantasy in general as much as it's a problem with Bioware's Thedas - anything that takes after Tolkien's Middle Earth, in which races and cultures within the world are thinly veiled analogs for real-world cultures, has a troubling tendency to make cultures outside of Europe exaggerated in their exoticism. Western Europeans are the protagonists of history.

For reference, this is the Dragon Age wiki article on the Qunari's religion, the Qun:

The qunari follow the philosophy of the Qun (kyoon), a violently evangelical religion based on the writings of the ashkaari Koslun. The Qun defines the role of everyone and everything in the society of the qunari, regardless of whether it is spiritual or mundane. For example, some qunari are raised as soldiers from a very young age. They are expected to be strong, disciplined, and stoic, adhering without fail to the tenets of honor and duty as defined in the Qun. Fanatical in this devotion, the qunari are prepared to wage war throughout their entire lives as part of their attempts to "enlighten" all other races in regards to their philosophy.

The qunari live after the rules in the Qun unquestioningly, and see it as their duty to convert the unbelieving, giving them their rightful place in the Qun. Even qunari attempts at trade with other races and nations are done primarily to size up potential opponents, rather than to amass resources or wealth.

The qunari do not believe in gods and find the concept of invisible all-knowing beings who are interested in judging you after you die laughable. They tolerate deism in the converted populations in Rivain and Seheron, however, as they view their inhabitants as just beginning the path to enlightened self-knowledge, and that they will discard that sort of superstition eventually.

Qunari who have abandoned the Qun are called Tal'Vashoth and live away from the qunari homelands, often working as mercenaries, some of whom the Warden will meet in places. Qunari value their weapons highly and consider them part of their worthiness. A qunari soldier must never be separated from his sword; such individuals will likely be shamed and/or executed upon returning to the homeland.

[Josefbugman]

Ahh, well I always saw them as more Buddhist or Taoist myself. But I can understand why its removed (though not why its bannable) I have said more than a few stupid STUPID things I've wanted to delete immediatly after posting.

Its to appeal to the larger market I think. Plus I don't really have any reason to complain about it, Japense RPG's have Tokyo as the centre of the Universe and Doctor Who has Cardiff as the centre of a dimensional rift. Its more just Creator provincialism than anything else.

Not that I wouldn't mind a Jade Empire 2 of couse, or indeed something based around The Years of Rice and Salt.

[Alex C]

I don't mind people taking issue with what I post. It's not a big deal.

I just figured it was the least interesting way this thread could be derailed, mostly.

[Tom]

Bioware as company has always prided itself on making games that are innovative as well as artistically, critically and commercially successful. It's a good thing that there are fans out there who will actually call bullshit on a lot of what Bioware does provided they're not being contrarian for the sake of it but just informed and concerned. John usually gives me something to think about even if he sounds like a dick at times.

[Johnny C]

i'm torn on bioware's approach to relationships between characters and the writing used to convey it because i can understand the political motivations for calling them out but at the same time the writing tends to be compelling anyways

[Johnny C]

on the other hand

The qunari are sort of like what you'd get if you crossed Islam with the Borg. Hmm. *writes that down*

makes the new qunari redesigns the worst redesigns ever. i was worried enough when i knew they were Muslim Hulks

[JD]

Demon muslim robots from spaaaaace.

[snalin]

Beyond the political ramifications, I'd be all over a flash game about the Muslim Borg.

[Tom]

The qunari are sort of like what you'd get if you crossed Islam with the Borg. Hmm. *writes that down*

I don't think many writers deliberately sit down and go "OK, this race is going to be stand-in for race/cultural group X". What I do find worrying and frustrating is that how we use our limited understanding of other cultures as a shorthand to describe what we're trying to achieve artistically. We're not doing anything any favours by reducing cultures and serious historically events into tiny descriptive statements. Both the work, or whatever, and the culture/historic event are cheapened. Gaiders statement is as silly as the "Dalish are the jews in exile" and the "Alienage = Auschwitz" ideas that we're floated around when DA:O came out.

[KvP]

Are you ready for virtual BJs?

Also this game is out in about a month and 4 days.

[KvP]

Money on the PC always on the receiving end, not the giving end. That would be pretty gay.

[cyro]

Also this game is out in about a month and 4 days.

In the UK yeah (and it's 3 days now), it's a month off in the US. Bastards.

[Tom]

Wait, 3 days. That means I can play it in fortnight, Hooray for PAL!

[KvP]

So they released some screenies of the all-important romances, and uh



Damn.

There's also this one


Hawke's sex partners seem awfully distressed.

[KvP]

I mean shit how do you wield a sword with those things attached to you.

Anyway, the team has released some short fiction!

Isabela

The woman that walks into the Hanged Man is a sight, bedraggled and scruffy, like a rat that’s been soaking in the bilge for a week. Her ripped, weather-beaten smock is stained with soot from Lowtown’s chimneys and her boots, while of fine leather, are well-worn and crudely patched in a number of places. Her bearing, however, is proud, even arrogant, and she strides into the tavern like she owns the place.

“They told me I could get a drink here,” she says, coming toward the bar with a singular purpose. She slaps a half-dozen silver coins onto my counter. “What’ll this get me?”

“It’ll get you drunk enough,” I say.

“Then keep the liquor coming till the coin runs out. And make it strong.”

I wipe a chipped clay tumbler with my apron and fill it with the tavern’s most potent brew. She snatches it from my hand before I’m done pouring, and downs the drink in one gulp.

“You really needed that, didn’t you?” I pour her another drink.

“You have no idea.” She sighs and rubs her temples. “They call me Isabela, by the way. You might as well learn the name. I think I’m going to be here a while.”

It doesn’t take long for a foul-smelling longshoreman to show up. Isabela stiffens as she feels a hand, low on her back. The longshoreman opens his mouth to say something, but never gets the chance. Isabela grabs the man by the wrist, twisting his arm behind him. His cry is one of shock rather than pain, but that quickly changes as Isabela rams her elbow into the back of the neck, slamming his face into the wooden bar-top.

“Touch me again, and I’ll break more than just these,” she hisses in his ear. And then she snaps the fingers of the offending hand. I hear a crunch, several sickening pops, and a howl of pain. The longshoreman slinks away, cradling his hand and spitting curses.

“What?” she says, holding the empty tumbler out for a refill and daring me to make a comment, any comment. I gesture towards her striking outfit—nothing but a chemise worn without the benefit of a jacket or cloak, covering only the barest minimum required for decency. Put on something like that, and you’re going to get attention whether you want it or not.

“What? This?” She picks at the laces on her bodice, then lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Would’ve dressed up for you, but I left all my polite clothes at the bottom of the ocean.”

As I ponder the meaning of that statement, one of a group of Lowtown ruffians sidles up to the bar. He smirks, greasy lips sliding over yellow teeth in an expression that’s more grimace than smile. “I’m Lucky,” he says.

“Is that a name, or a description?” she asks, not even looking at him.

“It’s both. And If you’re new in Kirkwall, you’ll want to talk to me. My boys and I know everything going on in this town.”

“You know,” says Isabela, coldly. “I once knew a dog named Lucky. Obnoxious little thing, and too stupid to know when he was two yaps away from a kick in the side.”

Lucky turns beet red, and glances at his mates for moral support. Lucky’s boys jeer and laugh, offering no support whatsoever, and Lucky beats a hasty retreat. Isabela plays with the clay tumbler, turning it around this way and that, examining its numerous imperfections. Her eyes narrow.

“Wait,” she says suddenly. “If you know everything going on in Kirkwall, maybe we should talk.”

Lucky nods and grins. Isabela turns to him and I catch a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You see,” she says, smiling for the first time. “I lost something in a shipwreck, and I’d like for it to be found.”

Learn more about Isabela when you play Dragon Age 2.

[KvP]

Anders

The light here isn't right. It's too yellow. Too harsh. And it all comes from above. For a moment, I'm not sure why that seems wrong. The sun… that's always been there, right? What am I remembering?

The word comes back to me. The Fade. I am a mage. I've spent time in the place I remember. It is a land of mist, of dreams. And I'm right; the light there is different, emanating from the ground, the walls, not a single pinpoint source. But I've never been more than a visitor there. Why does it suddenly feel like home?

What else can't I remember?

I sit up, and the light brightens, darkens, steadies. The throb in my head returns and without thinking, I draw on a breath of mana to drive it away. The pain lifts as the magic settles over it, soothing and cooling. I try to think. Let's start with something simple. My name. What is my name?

I am Anders.
I am Justice.
This never used to be so hard.

Suddenly it comes back to me. Justice's voice, my voice, speaking through the rotting face of the body he once claimed. "It is time. You have shown me an injustice greater than any I have faced. Do you have the courage to accept my aid?"

I knew what he offered.

To stay in the mortal realm, he needs a host, a body to inhabit for a lifetime, not a corpse which will rot out from beneath him. If I gave him that, he would give me all he had, all he was. Together, we could remake Thedas into a world where justice rules, not fear.

A world with no Circle. No templars. A world where every mage can learn to use their gifts and still return home at night. Where no mother ever need hide her child… or lose him to the fear of his neighbors. Where magic is recognized as a gift of the Maker, not the curse it has become.

It's almost too much to imagine. The Circle, the templars, they've shaped my life. I was no more than twelve when they came for me. My mother wept when they fixed the chains to my wrists, but my father was glad to see me gone. He had been afraid, ever since the fire in the barn. Not just afraid of what I could do, but afraid of me, afraid my magic was punishment for whatever petty sins he imagined the Maker sat in judgment upon.

I always knew I wouldn't submit. I could never be what they wanted from me -- compliant, obedient, guilty. But before Justice, I was alone. I never thought beyond my own escape: Where would I hide? How long before they found me?

Now, even that thought repulses me. Why should so many others live with what I will not? Why must the Circle of Magi stand? Just because it always has, just because those who read Andraste's words twisted them to mean that mages must be prisoners? Why has there never been a revolution?

"He's coming to." A voice, getting closer. Someone I know. A Grey Warden.

"What in the Maker's name happened to him?" There are two of them. This one I don't know.

"He just went crazy. His eyes were glowing… His bloody skin cracked open and it was like he was on fire inside. Just kept raving… something about injustice, a revolution. Thought I was going to have to put the blighter down like a mad dog, then he just collapsed."

"Damned mages."

I struggle to stand, to open my eyes and face them like a man, not the chewed-up pile of hurlock spew I feel like. I can see them now. It's Rolan; of course it is. The price I had to pay for the Grey Wardens' generosity in recruiting me out from under the templars' noses. He was one of them, before his Chantry was destroyed by the darkspawn and he felt the calling to join the Wardens. No one ever said a deal had been struck, but as soon as the templars stopped their protests, Rolan turned up in the Wardens, and we've fielded every assignment together since. It's all too clear the templars sent him to keep watch.

And whatever possessed me to make my deal with Justice anywhere he might witness?

As he appears, I regret that choice of words, because something stirs inside me, and I wonder if it's harder for Justice to exert his will in a body that a living consciousness still inhabits. But it's a futile question, because his thoughts are mine and he is me, and I'm no longer sure what I was even asking.

Rolan is in front of me now, and the white griffin on his chest plate blurs in my sight with the steel-grey sword-of-flames on his companion's armor, and I know with white-hot certainty that Rolan has betrayed me.

"The Wardens agreed we can't harbor an abomination," he is saying, nasal voice vibrating with smug satisfaction, and I don't need to hear more. He's brought the templars down on me, on us, and this is just what we've been waiting for.

I don't see myself when I change, only the reflection in their eyes and the sound of their screams. My arm lashes out and silverite doesn't so much break as explode in a shower of molten metal. The sword melts, running down the templar's chest, and I follow up with a wave of flames which scorch the flesh from his face, leaving only bone so hot it smolders. The trees are burning… the tent… everything around us.

Rolan is still standing, and I smell the lyrium he drank, which guarded him from the blast. But he's afraid. I see his shield jerk and know he barely resisted the urge to flee, and I have a sudden thought, "What am I?" for I've seen him face both broodmothers and abominations without fear.

And then his sword is level with my chest, and I let it come, because it is only steel and cannot hurt me, for I am not of mortal men. And when it sinks hilt-deep in my flesh with no reaction, that's when he gives up. He turns and runs, and from behind, I tear his head off at the neck, no magic, just me, whatever that is now. His blood splashes into my open mouth and it tastes like honeyed wine and the warmth spreads through me.

He hated me, and he is dead. He feared me, and he is dead. He hunted me, and he is dead.

They will all die. Every templar, every holy sister who stands in the way of our freedom will die in agony and their deaths will be our fuel. We will have justice. We will have vengeance.

And suddenly I'm alone, standing in a burning forest, with the bodies of templars and wardens at my feet. So many, and I didn't even know they were there. Didn't even know I had killed them, but the evidence is all around me. Not the aftermath of a battle as I've known it, but a bloody abattoir of rent limbs and torn and eaten flesh.

This is not justice. This is not the spirit who was my friend, my self. What has he become? What have I become? We must get out of here. There is no place for me in the Grey Wardens now.

Is there a place for me anywhere?

Learn more about Anders when you play Dragon Age 2.

Merrill

“Watch your step, da’len.”

The Keeper’s warning comes too late -- as usual -- and I trip over the rock, bruising my knees and losing the skin on my palms to the jagged mountain rock. Mythal’enast! Someday, I’ll learn to watch where I’m going. I struggle to my feet, hands covered in blood, and look around.

We’re here.

The cave mouth is unbearably spooky, even for Sundermount, which you’d think was trying for some sort of spookiness medal. Most Terrifying Mountain in Thedas, maybe. Mist swirls out of the blackness as if it’s breathing, and the hillside around it is barren. A gaping maw, devouring all the life within its reach…

Not a good mindset, Merrill. Think positive! At least the weather’s fair.

“You feel it too, then.” The Keeper’s voice snaps me back to reality. She’s looking at me expectantly. .. which means I’ve forgotten something. I try to smooth my tunic and succeed in smearing blood down the front. Wonderful. And I still don’t know what it is she’s waiting for—oh! Answer. Right.

“Yes, Keeper. The voice is much louder here.” The whisper tugs at the edge of my thoughts, and I can make it out if I concentrate. In the camp, I could only hear it in my dreams, and the words were lost upon waking. Only a memory of terrible loneliness remained. Even the Keeper woke sobbing the second night.

Come to me.

I shiver. This is definitely the source.

“Follow me, da’len. And keep your wits about you.” The Keeper vanishes into the hungry mouth of the cave. I take a deep breath and go inside.

The dark is a shock after the sun-drenched mountainside. Like jumping into a pool of icy water on a hot day. My eyes adjust to the dimness, we pass through a narrow passageway into a grand chamber and I see… ruins. Light shines through cracks in the ceiling, broken by the shifting of time and tree roots. Not a cave after all then? A temple or a tomb or… I don’t know what this is. Strange.

“It doesn’t look elvish, does it, Keeper? Tevinter, maybe?” I look to the Keeper, who is peering silently at some sort of archway with a disapproving frown that I know all too well. Poor archway. It didn’t do anything.

“If this place was part of the war, then it doesn’t matter who built it. It is dangerous.” The Keeper turns from the archway, apparently dismissing it. “If it isn’t from the war, it is unknown, and probably still dangerous.” I’m certain there’s a flaw in her reasoning somewhere, but it seems like the middle of the creepy tomb-cavern is a bad place to argue the point. She descends a short stairway into the temple below.

I trail after her, giving the archway a reassuring pat as I pass.

Come to me.

The voice comes from the far end of the temple, from an ugly statue of a big squatting… thing with too many arms and legs. Well, that’s not promising at all.

“Who calls us?” The Keeper demands, drawing herself up. She looks the way I imagine the elves of Arlathan did, regal and wise, and the timbre of her voice says, I don’t care if you are a spirit, I will thrash you if you give me a reason. She scolded a wild sylvan with that voice once, and it stumbled off looking ashamed of itself. Well, as ashamed as a tree can look, anyway.

Help me.

Oh, that was not the right answer at all.

Keeper Marethari seems to grow taller, becoming a towering pillar of angry Dalishness. “Name yourself! Or be left to your silence.”

I am One Who is Trapped. Help me.

“Your name!” I have never seen the Keeper this angry. Not even when Tamlen disappeared.

Three seems to be the magic number. Audacity. The voice is like a winter wind, bitter and ragged.

“A demon.” The Keeper spits the word as if it tastes foul. She nods at me, “Bound to the statue. It will not threaten the camp.” She turns to leave, satisfied.

Wait! I have been trapped here for time beyond counting. I bore witness to the fall of your kingdom. Help me, Keeper of the Dalish, and I will give you knowledge of all I have seen. For a moment, I see visions of the world as it once was. An empire that spanned all Thedas, glittering cities of the elvhen…. All this could be yours.

“Come, da’len.” The Keeper beckons. The vision fades.

I turn and follow her out into the light.

Learn more about Merrill when you play Dragon Age 2.

Fenris

The hunters were after him again.

Truth be told, he’d known for several days. He’d seen it in the eyes of the innkeeper, the way the fat man guiltily glanced away and refused to meet his gaze. He’d seen it in the pitying look of the **** that stood on the corner, and the way she covered it up with a smile. The patrons in that squalid tavern where he went to buy his meals grew quiet when he entered now, and it was not the uncomfortable silence of human townsfolk being confronted with a strange elf covered in strange skin markings and carrying a large sword—rather it was the silence of men who knew trouble had just walked through the door and were now doing their best to pretend it didn’t exist. Fenris knew the difference very well.

He’d been lazy. Despite the fact that he’d known, still part of him refused to admit that it was so. He’d hoped against hope that he was wrong, that the signs were simply a fugitive’s paranoia. His stay in the last three towns had been longer and longer, his efforts to cover up his distinctive markings almost nonexistent. He told himself that this was a challenge. Let them come. Let them try and take him back, if they dared. Deep down, however, he wondered if he hadn’t simply grown weary of the chase.

Now was the time. He’d already cleaned his few meager possessions out of his room at the inn and jumped out the window. It led to a dark alley in the back, with enough ledges below that a quick descent was easily accomplished. That was why Fenris had chosen the room after an inspection that had the innkeeper staring at him in worry. He almost had to wonder how long it would take the fat man before curiosity, or a lack of payment, would lead him to check and find Fenris gone. A week, perhaps less if the innkeeper was the one who’d sold him out.

There was nothing in the alley save for a few lone rats and an elven vagrant asleep against a garbage heap. Fenris paused and stared at the man in disgust. He’d thought to blend in more once he’d escaped the Imperium. In a land where elves were free, certainly one more elf would go unnoticed? He’d been a fool, of course. How was he to know that so many of his people would squander their freedom living like frightened cattle? If his only choices were to either dress as meekly as the local humans expected their elves to be, run off to find the wandering clans that grubbed in the dirt for whatever scraps the human kingdoms threw them, or to fight… then his choice was clear.

The vagrant stirred awake as Fenris drew the greatsword from his back. The elf squealed in sudden terror but Fenris ignored him. There were others coming now, cloaked in the alley’s shadows—at least two on either side and… one above? He listened, and heard the faintest scraping on the clay tiles up above. Yes, no doubt a crossbowman. They thought they had him pinned.

Fenris launched himself towards the end of the alley that led away from the main street. Here it led into a maze of twisty courtyards, sewage and lines of hung laundry… but it would be darker there, easier for him to run without stirring the town guard. Why the hunters never tried bribing the guard to help their hunt he couldn’t say. Regardless, he’d run amiss of the guard in another town and they’d impeded his efforts to escape as much as they impeded the hunters. It wasn’t worth the risk.

The vagrant shouted in fear and drunkenly scrambled to his feet, but Fenris was already past him. Two long figures approached, barely visible but moving fast now as they realized their quarry was aware of the chase. Fenris caught a glimpse of maroon. Tevinter soldiers, then. Good, that would make this easier. Not that he wouldn’t have killed mercenaries just as easily, but it was less pleasant than slaughtering dogs like these.

A wide arc of his blade knocked the first hunter aside as he parried. The second rushed forward, hoping to take advantage of an opening—only to meet Fenris’s fist. The markings on his skin flashed brightly, the lyrium within them sending magic crawling through his flesh, and his fist phased through the man’s helmet and directly into his head. He lurched to a halt, stunned with terror.

So they weren’t warned. Fools.

The lyrium markings flashed again as Fenris partially solidified his fist. The hunter jolted back, blood gushing forth from his mouth and his ears. By now the first hunter was already recovered and swinging his blade. Fenris expertly hauled the second around by his head, putting him into the path of the swing. The sword chopped deeply into the man’s shoulder, and with a kick he sent both of them flying together into the brick wall. His fist was covered in dark red gore.

He would have stayed to finish them off, but the other hunters were already figuring things out. A crossbow bolt flew by Fenris’s head, barely nicking one of his ears, and he could hear the booted feet of more soldiers rushing his way. He ran into the alleyway, leaping over the hunter who struggled to push off his dead comrade, and sped into the maze. Dark doorways flew by as he raced. He cut down clotheslines and tossed over barrels to present obstacles behind him. They were definitely giving chase—he could hear them swearing in Tevinter, and the crossbowman above scrambling to get into position.

The first pair of open shutters he saw and Fenris dived through. He landed in a kitchen filled with the smell of baking bread, and a human woman screamed as he rolled to his feet. No doubt the sight of an elf in skintight armor, carrying a blade almost as large as himself, wasn’t a welcome sight. He got to his feet and noticed the surprisingly comely woman, dressed in a nightgown that revealed more of her cleavage than she no doubt expected, pressing against the wall.

He grinned at her, and she screamed again. So he grabbed a freshly-baked loaf off the counter and raced for the front door of the hovel. Already a soldier was climbing through the window, causing the woman to scream once more and faint dead away. The others would be coming around to the front, so he had to get out before…

…he stopped cold. He knew the man who stood at the doorway: maroon cloak and jet-black hair barely covering those soulless eyes. Not to mention a scar on his neck, one that Fenris had put there. Damned healing potions and their foul magic. Why couldn’t anyone stay dead?

“Avanna, Fenris. Good to see you again.” The hunter’s voice was a cold purr as he raised his crossbow and pointed the bolt at Fenris’s chest. The one on the roof, then. Clever.

“Considering what happened last time, I’m surprised you decided to try again.”

“It’s not just about the coin any longer, slave.”

Oh, how Fenris loved it when they said that. “Not afraid you’ll lose your head for good?”

“Not when we have the drop on you. You’ve become careless. Time to give yourself up.” The other hunter had made it through the window , and he could hear others shouting in the street. He supposed that he really had only two choices: give up and hope for a chance to escape later… or take his chances.

It wasn’t really a choice. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade and smiled at the hunter, slow and deadly. “Vishante kaffar,” he hissed. And he attacked.

Learn more about Fenris when you play Dragon Age 2.

[KvP]

revealed infos:

- you will be in the Deep Roads by the end of Act 1
- boss fights will use timing/patterns/geometry (ex. you can move out of the way of a thrown rock)
- Bioware wasn't even sure it was possible to finish Nightmare until one of their people finished it last week
- Cone of Cold and Fireball are not as 'win' as in the last game
- Shield Bash talent looks more like you are really bashing. In the first game, your character would trot up to the opponent and halfheartedly hit them. Now you sprint at them like you are gonna football-tackle them with your shoulder behind the board and slam into them
- Shield Assault: you spin around and hit people in an arc
- Rivalry: If Varric is a rival, he gets more accurate (as a rival, he wants to prove he is better - more accurate); if he is more of a friend, he gives a party - based bonus
- Most every party character has a unique skill tree. So if you see one that doesn't, there is probably some story reason
- two handed warrior: you can get a power that allows you to run around the room and hit everyone. You can also either hit people in a wider arc or make it easier to kill weaker enemies almost instantly
- sword & board: you can choose to make shield bash either cause more knockback/critical damage or do more stunning
- archer has been improved to where it's almost overpowered. Bioware guy joked that if the archer in DA1 was broken in a bad way, he might be broken in a good way in DA2
- almost all the archer's abilities cause knockback, and it may be unfair for the enemies if they can hardly ever approach you
- hail of arrows can be upgraded to storm of arrows, which does additional bleeding damage
- there is an archer ability that enables you to hit everything between you and your target. So a row of enemies in front of you means you hit every one. You can also get it so that it has an easier chance to kill weaker enemies
- if a character is close to the archer, instead of having the archer stand and shoot like an idiot, they can pull out a dagger, stab in the kidneys and face
- Dialog symbols: an olive branch is the more diplomatic option, the red fist is an aggressive option, a bag of money is the symbol for asking for more money
- sometimes you may have a character in your party do something for you. For example, there was a time when the guy had Varric in his party and you were double crossed. You could have Varric kill for you
- It's possible for some of your party members to die in the story, and you lose them
- game engine is 90% of the old one, but should perform better

Video of PS3 version.

(also the Bioboards are in an uproar over the non-romanceable nature of Varric the dwarf and it is fantastic).

[Tom]

Anders is the gay/bi romance option, I take it. Sounds much more interesting than Zevran this time round.

[KvP]

I'm not sure if it's clear who's the bi option for male characters but previews (and DA:O) seem to peg Isabella as the bi lady option.

[Tom]

Romance stills usually have straight couples, so I assumed Fenris was straight.

[cyro]

I'm not sure if it's clear who's the bi option for male characters but previews (and DA:O) seem to peg Isabella as the bi lady option.

She is, and the only confirmed romance at this point. Given the Garrus/Tali thing from ME2 Anders and Merrill are likely romance options but as to what preference they are is all up in the air.

Personally I want Varric as the gay love interest.

[Caleb]

http://www.usatoday.com/tech/gaming/2011-02-15-felicia15_ST_N.htm



I am wondering if she has just given up on being a traditional TV and movie actress and is just going to try to cash in on webisodes for the rest of her career?

[KvP]

Live action Joss Whedon roleplay!

Personally I want Varric as the gay love interest.

Ha! Not happening. Two things that creep out Dave Gaider: Dwarves, and gays. His reasons are marginally better than the ME2 lead's ("gays aren't PG-13") but they still seem to point toward gay romance not being worth development time. Not because gays are gross! No, they just don't fit with the Dragon Age setting.

It's not free, as I said-- and there really seemed to be no point because Morrigan was not interested in women and Alistair was not attracted to men. That's how we thought of them, and the idea of having bisexual characters was something we were going to try out... it wasn't a question of "why wouldn't we?" but "why would we?" Because we had such a tradition of doing it prior? We had two characters we concepted as bisexual and accepted the extra costs with.

If we started out and said "the goal is to make all romances accessible to all players" and we were willing to accept the costs there as well, we could arrange the romances to make the costs as low as necessary and keep the impact on players who weren't seeking gay content minimal. That's not always going to be the goal, however, but it's a perfectly acceptable one.

We didn't (and won't) do strictly gay romances because a romance is very expensive content-- both from a writing, cinematic and testing perspective. It's one thing to add the extra costs to piggy-back on top of an existing romance plotline (and by this I don't necessarily mean "add gay option to straight romance"... it could just as easily be the reverse) and quite something else to have a romance created from whole cloth.

All content has a cost. Sometimes people forget that we as developers create content -- not romance options. It's not solely about whether you have the choice and how fair that is, but whether or not we can afford to make it and whether it fits into the rest of the project we're making.

I'll point out, first off, that the New Vegas characters had very little romance to speak of, as well as no cinematics involved with said romance. Thus their "romance" is very cheap. We'd have nothing against having a strictly gay or lesbian character in our games... so long as you couldn't romance them. Our romances make for very costly content, after all, by our own choice. That's how we want to do them, and thus it affects just how much we can dole out. It's not candy.

As it is, let's pull this back to the topic at hand and keep things civil, shall we? Or we shall have yet another thread closed down, not by homophobia but by militant campaigners who evidently can't see the forest for the trees. Which, again, is too bad.

He also came out pretty early against the legion of Varric shippers.

I apologize for not pandering sufficiently to your jaded sensitivities by offering up exotic, titillating non-human porn. Clearly any good roleplayer understands that having horns or pointed ears makes the romance extra special. My mistake.

People who need a romantic interest to be non-human in order to have their boat sufficiently floated disturb me on the same level as furries. Some of you might want to have that looked at.

(Gaider has a toxic co-dependent relationship with the shippers on the forums)

Naturally, the announcement of a Varric-less list of love interests was a dark, dark day on the Bioboards.

... Wow, BioWare. Just wow.

I'm so bloody impressed, I just may pass out.

F**k. *sigh* Oh well, here's hoping for DA3.

dammit. Dammit.

What. What? What?!? WHAT?!?!

=[



=[





....



=[

Guys. I seriously cried.

I need hug.

[pouty.png]...[sad.png]...[crying.png]... I thought that I could be all cool and calm about this situation. But after I saw Aimo's picture, my heart broke.......don't let them see you cry ol' girl...don't let them see you cry... [crying.png]

That just ripped the heart from my chest and threw it to the ground with bittersweet tears of unfulfilled love. Seriously. It was a punch.

Oh, well. I can't imagine that he won't be awesome anyway, but.. Darn.

*SOBS*



this is even worse than no romanceable sten.



...very sadpanda.

Whatever. I tire of this nonsense. I was hoping that they'd give me the one romance I was really interested in, but noooo. Calla never gets what she wants because she's a bloody weirdo who ~isn't into the mainstream.~

An abomination over a dwarf. Really? REALLY?

[cyro]

Damn, ah well. Personally I just thought it'd be a laugh. I'm not going to have emo attacks over this.


Oh, the official Romances are out now:

Chris Priestly wrote...

Hello Dragon Age 2 fans.
 
Happy Valentine’s Day to one and all. We know many of you have romance on your minds today, so we thought we would confirm for you the potential romance characters in Dragon Age 2.

You can choose to romance:
Isabela
Fenris
Merrill
Anders
 
Keep in mind that all Dragon Age 2 romances are optional, so you can choose to follow these subplots or not as you prefer. All four NPCs also have other non-romance subplots that you can again choose to follow if you want to learn more about these characters. To learn more about the romances, you will need to play Dragon Age 2.

So, if you are romantically inclined during your Dragon Age 2 playthroughs, you now know who you can pursue. Pitch your woo accordingly.

[Johnny C]

Am I the only one that thinks the focus people seem to have on the romance parts of the game is completely absurd?

no you aren't

[snalin]

Am I the only one that thinks that Bioware's romancing trope is a bit absurd?

[imagist42]

by no means

by
no
means

[Tom]

Having never met Bioware fan-people irl, I'm hard pressed to believe that anyone truly thinks otherwise.

[Josefbugman]

*shrug* a lot of people seem to really enjoy it, but its not for me. That goes for both gay sex and obsessing about romances in video games.

I am certainly looking forward to seeing what choices and enemies I'll make.

[cyro]

I dunno, I'm kinda interested in the whole rivalry-romance stick in DA2, beyond that, well it's basically another sidequest.

[Blue Kitty]

I like the romance side quest things in Bioware games, but I don't freak out about them like other people seem to.

Though I did go through the first Mass Effect 4 times to see what the different interactions were like, but that also has to do with being paragon and renegade.

[Josefbugman]

I just never got into them all that much. The first character I play as tends to be as chaste as Saint Francis.

[est]

Now that there's more detail about this I am starting to get a bit more interested.  I agree that the rival idea is pretty interesting, not sure I've seen a mechanic like it before.  I mean, I know it's just a modification of the loyalty system in the previous game, but it's an interesting modification.

They should add Felicia Day's Tallis character into the game as a DLC bisexual romanceable option so all the Guild dorks can pretend they're banging her.

[KvP]

Some guy got the demo early. Varric's VA is pretty good, don't quite like LadyHawke's british accent. Othewise, looks a whole lot like Jade Empire, minus enemies reacting to being hit.

[KvP]

Also somebody pointed out that your sister's boobs apparently shrink between "legend" and "what really happened", and darkspawn explode instead of falling over dead. Might explain why Ladyhawke's got crazy basketball tits in that early screenshot.

[Alex C]

I just never got into them all that much. The first character I play as tends to be as chaste as Saint Francis.

Amusingly, I didn't even know that there were romances or that strictly speaking, my character was on the romance path with Jaheira the first time I played through BGII. That's because her romance was easily broken/sidetracked at release and because the first portion of it pretty much consists of not being an enormous ass about the end of her previous relationship. The game called it lurve, I called it etiquette 101.

[est]

Yeah, I found it strange that Jaheira's partner died and about two seconds later she's macking on me.

[Josefbugman]

I think it may be a cunning way of teaching "how to be nice to people" through videogames.

I liked the look of the Demo, still planning to be a male hawke on the first run through but at least there isn't quite the disparity between Voice actor quality that you see in Mass Effect.

[Tom]

Some guy got the demo early. Varric's VA is pretty good, don't quite like LadyHawke's british accent. Othewise, looks a whole lot like Jade Empire, minus enemies reacting to being hit.

Eh, so far I'm happy but I won't commit tell I see some more environs and console controls.

[Blyss]

In reference to the talking ^^ up there earlier, about the romance goings on from Bioware, I only have one thing to say:  My name is John, and I am addicted to that little XBox logo popping up and telling me I have accomplished something.  I have no excuse beyond this.

[Tom]

When I replay games I fell a tinge of disappointment every time I finish something important and no achievement pops up.

[David_Dovey]

My name is John, and I am addicted to that little XBox logo popping up and telling me I have accomplished something.

That's kind of the main problem

[Blyss]

Well, yeah, but I'm no longer in denial about it...

[Tom]

These skill trees please me.

[Caleb]

Hey I guess if a million people get the demo that comes out the 22nd you get some free times in game.

Like a book that spits out gold when you read it and another book that give you EXP when you read it or something like that.

http://dragonage.bioware.com/da2/demo

And you get another sword for finishing the demo to use in the main game.

...at this point my level one character will be so overladen with bonus/preorder/special items that they will be barely able to move.  I think his backstory will be that he stole all the stuff off the battlefield after the big battle from Dragon Age 1 finished.

[KvP]

Gotta practice MY STABBIN.