(With a delay of a week and a day, Thanathos triumphantly returns to Dragon Age!)
When we left our heroine
last week two weeks ago, she had just been recruited to battle the Blight — an army of nigh-mythical Darkspawn seemingly bent on worldwide destruction — as the newest member of the equally nigh-mythical Grey Wardens. Her recruiter, an orange-named badass with a thick beard and a unique armor texture.
After, of course, we slaughtered our way through the local lord’s castle and killed off his only son in a fit of arrow-fueled vengeance. It’s kind of our thing. Now, saved from one death sentence by another probable death, we said our goodbyes to our friends, family and loved ones and returned to our new Warden to gallivant off the save the world by catching Darkspawn arrows with our face.
After the break: yes, that *is* the opposite way of how we usually do things. Get used to it.
When last we left off, we had cut a bloody swath through the Arl of Denerim’s estate, leaving his son (and son’s two best
handmaidens cronies ‘friends’) in puddles of their own blood with empty pockets.
Shiani Bellic gave her tacit approval and everything. You remember.
All in all, it was an outing to feel… well, not exactly good about. There was still a bunch of murder that happened back there. Men (and almost, if not entirely exclusively men, now that I think about it) that my childhood friend and I slaughtered in droves. Those men had names, and families. Some probably had women and children, they had hopes and fears and loves, and some of them were probably planning on going out to the pub for drinks afterwards, and many of them probably had nothing to do with the systematic oppression of Elves.
Andraste’s breath, we’re monsters.
After the break: does that mean the killing will stop, from now on? HAH.
When we last left off, Samantha got scary. Not by finally making good on all of her murder and arrow-based threats (though she’s getting to that part), but by making a dry ‘bright side’ quip on seeing her fiancé getting brutally slaughtered while on a mission to rescue her.
And, in continuing my long-standing tradition of re-using screenshots, here’s a reminder.
After the break: Eh, dead’s dead. What’cha gonna do? Make sure Nelaros isn’t the only dead guy at the party, apparently.
When we last left off, the hero of our upcoming epic journey got taken down by a lazy backhand from an upstart noble who, while technically named Vaughn, we’re going to persist in calling “Von Dickface”. Because I enjoy the wordplay, that’s why.
Seriously, it has to do with how German names interact with noble titles and… never mind.
Anyway, after a short loading screen, we’re treated to a shot of an Elven lady in another terrible-looking dress chanting “Maker keep us, Maker protect us” over and over. Almost like she’s feverishly praying for help. There’s a few things wrong with this, just within the context of Dragon Age Lore, but here’s the big one which always sticks in my almost-entirely metaphorical craw: it makes no sense with the religion as it’s established.
After the break: ooh, isn’t *that* a nasty teaser? Keep reading to figure out *why* this makes no sense! And also, to read the continuing adventures of Robin Hoodette, I guess.
When last we left off, some round-ear decided to crash and come rollin’ up all in the
ghetto Alienage, looking for some black Elven ladies to completely objectify.
What a bunch of dicks, right?
This screenshot brought to you by… well, this LP, but also by pretty much every critique of this game which says it’s anti-women.
Ringleader McBeardy von Dickface up there is actually – although we won’t actually know this for another couple minutes of cutscene – the son of this city’s Arl. The game doesn’t precisely explain what the hell an Arl is, even when this comes up, but it seems important. I’m sure there’s an in-depth explanation buried in the codex somewhere, but what we’re going to tell you *right now* is that the Arl is basically a mayor. Landowner, typically in charge of a city or equivalent chunk of land, commands the local police force which doubles as his ‘loyal’ standing army.
After the break: will pissing off the mayor’s spoiled son have any negative effects? Nah, probably not.
Last episode, I called my cousin Shianni a drunk. “Get-Drunk-Before-Noon-Day”, I believe was the exact text of the insult.
It was. Also, Fun Fact: Thanatos does not drink and, in fact, disapproves of alcohol in general, so this is actually the option I pick *every time*.
She actually brushes off the insult fairly easily, without getting offended. Samantha must have delivered it incorrectly. I would have used more withering disdain, and less having-no-actual-voice. I understand, though: the cost of voice actors for at least twelve different PCs and sets of dialogue would have been astronomically high.
Apparently, the poor sod I’m to marry, a guy named Nelaros, got to the Denerim Alienage earlier than anticipated, and it’s time to get everything thrown together. Fortunately, the family already has this taken care of, so all the blushing bride has to do is throw on her wedding dress:
After the break: what does the wedding dress look like? DON’T LOOK YET IT’S BAD LUCK
(Hey everyone! As mentioned in this earlier news post, what you’re seeing right here is the first episode of Thanatos Plays Dragon Age. In it, Ninja Blues-friend Thanatos takes us on a journey through Thedas as viewed by a Dalish City Elf. The gist of it, as he pitched it us, is more or less ‘did you know Elves are the black people of Thedas?’ Dunno about you, but that piqued my interest. So yeah, here you go: read at your own enjoyment, and be sure to let Thanatos know what you think in the comments below. — Jarenth.)
Welcome to Thanatos Plays Dragon Age!
The story goes thusly: Dragon Age: Origins is kind of an awesome game that most, if not all, of you have probably already played. Published by Bioware in the November Chaos of 2009, back when I was actually *still in the military*. For me, Dragon Age is notable for two distinct elements:
One, it is a fantasy setting where I do not reflexively hate Mages, as magic is pretty consistently presented as more of a genetic curse than it is a blessing anybody can achieve though rigorous study. And two, it made Elves something *other* than pointy-eared Mary Sues living in Treetop Villa of Being Super-Awesome while they arrogantly pass judgment on all the lesser races.
After the break: So, how do those two elements influence this Let’s Play? The answer is ‘racism’.