The Message of The Normal Noble in Dragon Age Origins

Dragon Age Origins is my new favorite game.

Disclaimer: There are some minor spoilers for Dragon Age Origins in this blog.  You’ve been warned.

Disclaimer 2: I am still working on my first play through of DOA but I want to write down my thoughts as I play through. It may turn out I am wrong on a number of issues and if so I will blog about it at a later date.

I just bought a copy of Bioware’s Dragon Age Origins last week.  After playing for four days I am hooked.  Whereas before I was not sure if I would even like it, now I find myself thinking about it even when I’m not playing.  That’s when you know you’ve found a game that rocks.

I’ve enjoyed it so much it took me two days to realize something was wrong.

Let me go back to the beginning. For those who don’t know Dragon Age, like so many other role-playing games, lets you create your character and select a background before you plunge into the adventure.  I chose to be a human noble female. Now I don’t play RPGs that much but whenever I do, I always create a black woman.  That way, I can bring two under-represented groups at the same time.  However for some reason, I could not create a black woman this time.  All I could do was give her a bit of tan that just didn’t look right.  After trying four or five times I gave up, made her the best I could, and started the game.

Character creation for nobles is limited in Dragon Age Origins

When my character walked into the castle (she was a noble after all) I realized why my choices were so limited: my family was white.  Mentally I kicked myself for being so silly.  Noble.  Castle.  Very European.  Of course they were white.  That makes perfect historical sense.  And so with only a twinge of disappointment, I launched into the grand epic.

After two days of killing darkspawns and demons it finally dawned on me that something wasn’t right.  It turns out my character was not the problem.  The family was.  Well not exactly. Or maybe that’s really two problems.  The first problem was that I could not create the character I wanted to create because historical accuracy (in a fantasy game mind you) dictated otherwise.

The second problem is that I accepted the fact that a noble human family in a fantasy game should be white due to the setting.  Dragon Age is a fantasy, right?  If I can be a part of a world that contains the most honorable heroes, the Gray Wardens, and the most vile villains then why is it so hard to have a noble family of color?  In my days of traveling the land, I have seen NPCs of color, though none of significance yet.  I assume I will eventually run into one who will present me with a side quest or something.  So if that is the case that there are free NPCs of color in the land then why can they not be a part of the noble class?

Bioware went to great lengths to provide different backgrounds for players to select: human, elves, dwarves and so on. Moreover, they have carefully crafted a spectacular game with a rich and diverse mythology.  I am still amazed by what I have seen so far.  So then how hard would it have been for them to add code to change the family to fit the character?  If I wanted to create an Asian male, then the game should automatically create a family to match.

These were the choices I had in Knights of the Old Republic

The more complex and insidious issue here is that it took me a few days to realize something was wrong.  You see when I realized the European setting dictated a European family, I was okay with that.  It seemed very normal to me. Therein lies the problem.  Because it was normal, I did not question it, though I should have.  I probably should have been outraged that being white and noble was hardwired into the game as well as my consciousness.  But I was having such a great time playing the game that all thoughts of accepting (or rejecting) that particular messages soon fell by the wayside.  And yet this is a fantasy game.  In my fantasy games, I want my heroes to be people who look like me.  I did it that way in Knights of the Old Republic and I did it that way in Mass Effect. Bioware has spoiled me. What’s the difference between those two games and Dragon Age?  In Knights and ME the hero came from either a tragic or mysterious background.  We only got to hear about their origins.  In Dragon Age, I got to experience my character’s home and family.  There was a sense of community.  I had access to my parents, servants, and pets.  All very normal, even it all took place in a huge castle.  The hidden message here: in the better or preferred background, you can’t be black or Asian.  Those races are relegated to the abnormal. This other background is only acceptable for that mysterious person, that tragic survivor, the violent war hero, or the fallen dark lord.

What we are really taking about is re-imagining characters in-game and we should all be used to it by now.  Last summer the entire concept of Star Trek changed with the new movie.  Battlestar Galactica re-imagined the whole series including some of the main characters such as Starbuck (from Dirk Benedict to Katee Sackhoff) and Boomer (from Herb Jefferson Jr. to Grace Park).  In Marvel Comics’ Nick Fury went from white (comics) to black (movies). And who can forget Brandy as Cinderella? I would like the option to either embrace or reject those messages of what is normal in my games.

Now you might think that after all this I would stop playing Dragon Age Origins.  Not so.  I’ve had too much fun to stop anytime soon.  And it may turn out that when I choose another origin the result will be better.  I have yet to try being an elf or a dwarf.  But even if I run into the same problem, I believe this tale will be every bit as satisfying as Bioware’s other games. However fantasy above all else should be about escaping from the norm.  Whenever writers and developers only bring those norms into the game, they limit what the player can do to enrich his/her experience by not allowing that player’s notion of identity to be included.

What We Need Are More Jokers

Video games serve as entertainment and provide escapism.  That is the conventional wisdom. Thanks to the wonders of gaming, players can take on the role of a seven-foot Spartan, a British adventurer, or an invincible COG soldier.  These brave warriors face death constantly but in the end always prevail.  However I find that as I grow older that all this excitement is not enough for me.  Oh sure, I still love to gun down waves of enemies and solve puzzles, but I find that I long to care about the characters involved.  Not just the non-playable characters (NPCs) but my own as well.  I just read Jeffrey Ollendorf’s “The Benefits of Banter” over at Gamasutra and I agree that in role-playing games it helps if party members talk, tease, and joke more.  My own take is that writers should consider adding two other elements in addition to banter: physical challenge and fear.

Get Joker off the ship and let him crack some heads.

I don’t mean physical challenge as in defeating waves of enemies or jumping from ledge to ledge, but rather as a term that replaces “disability” or “handicap.” A character who is physically challenged might struggle with injury, disease, or illness.  Nearly all the characters in games are in peak physical condition.  In fact many have superhuman abilities and technologically advanced weapons.  What if game character development took the opposite approach?  What if we could control more characters like Mass Effects’ Joker?  Now here is a character, Jeff Moreau, who suffers from what is commonly called brittle bone disease.  Near the end of Mass Effect 2 the player briefly takes control of Joker as he fearlessly moves through the Normandy trying to rescue the besieged crew. I honestly cannot remember if there was another time I had control over a character that wasn’t super fast, overly strong, heavily armed, or unbelievably agile.  Joker is a regular person with a regular person’s issues.

What if Joker became a party member in Mass Effect 3? Suppose there were missions where Shepard needed to commandeer a vessel and only Joker could fly it?  I would love to see Joker pick up a rifle again and blast those evil alien Geth to bits!  Not a superhuman Joker.  Not a frail Joker who takes one bullet and dies.  No.  I want a Joker who uses his wits to stay alive where other members use bullets and biotics.  And like that one scene in ME2, Moreau cracks jokes as he cracks heads.

However that one scene in ME2 could have been more powerful if he had actually displayed fear.  The idea of the protagonist, party members, or friendly AI displaying fear seems to run contrary to the notion of being a hero. Perhaps the enemy may be afraid but never the hero. It’s okay for the little grunts in Halo 3 to run off when Master Chief runs in guns blazing but you will never see Marines do that.  Okay that may be a little extreme.  But what if the heroes were anxious before battle? What if my character actually got the shakes?  Now there’s a thought.

Showing a little fear wouldn't kill him.

Let’s take Dead Space as an example.  There were plenty of times I jumped while playing and I spent most of my time turning around to make sure something didn’t grab me from behind (in the game that is, though I usually played at night with the lights off).  Yet all the time I moved through those dark corridors my character, Isaac Clarke was a silent efficient killer.  I never identified with him. Never connected to him.  A lot of that came from the fact that he didn’t speak.  That’s a shame.  But more than that he never showed the slightest bit of emotion.  None of the characters did.  Isaac seemed be friends with Kendra Daniels.  Imagine if Daniels and Clarke actually showed the strain of their situation.  Having Daniels show fear and Clarke being apprehensive would have served as a vehicle to connect gamer and character.  Small additions like a loud heartbeat, shaking hands, and unsteady aim when afraid would amp up and already tense shooter.

I watched a short clip on the upcoming Dead Space 2 yesterday.  It seems that Mr. Clarke will be in charge this time around.  No more getting direction from somebody else all the time. While that sounds well and good I hope we get to see a more human hero travelling through dark corridors blasting aliens.

Perhaps what we need are ordinary people who at times rise above their meager means and origins in order to save the rest of us.  I don’t mean the classic hero-myth saga where boy/girl meets mentor, rejects mentor’s appeal, is forced to into being a hero, loses mentor, goes to the underworld, realizes he/she is truly a hero and saves the world.  No I mean we need playable characters like you or me.  People who, while they realize they must fight, have trouble shooting because they are near-sighted.  I’m talking about folk who hate killing.  I mean ordinary people who want nothing more than to get away from their situation and go home in peace.

I realize my opinions go against that whole concept of escapism I mentioned at the beginning but I am always a proponent of adding greater character depth in the ever elusive hope of moving video games into that mystical state of culturally respected media. Perhaps I ask too much of game writers, but I don’t think so.  Take a chance.

A Response to “Is Death In Games Cheap?”

I read a wonderful article by Richard Clark in Gamasutra.  “Is Death In Games Cheap” took an engaging look at how video games handle death and I enjoyed every bit of it.  I do want to expanded, however, on the last section of his opinion piece titled “The Most Powerful Death is Not Our Own.”  He writes there that games do not trivialize death.  I’m not sure I completely agree.

Clark correctly points out that the deaths which really matter in video games are those of non-playable characters (NPCs).  He uses Mass Effect 2 as his example.  Anyone who has read my posts knows how much I love that game and how it speaks to the Human Condition.  However the use of a player’s choices to dictate if a character lives or dies is but one option game writers can use to make us care about an NPC’s death.

Writers can also develop an NPC’s character to the point where we care enough to miss him or her.  To this day, I still feel sad when I think about the death of Eli Vance at the end of Half Life 2 Episode 2.  I cared about him and his daughter Ali and I hated how the game ended with his death, knowing I would have to wait until Episode 3 to find out how Ali will respond to his passing. I ask myself why I liked him so much and I believe it is because he helped me flush out my character in the game, Gordon Freeman. Since Freeman never spoke, I needed the words and actions of others to help me connect with my character. In helping me to get to know myself (Gordon) I got to know him as well.  Eli and Ali Vance allowed me move past Gordon being simply two hands and a gun.

A third way game writers can make us care about a character’s death is to attach him or her to another NPC we care about. While I interacted with Eli Vance, I only got to know Maria Santiago through the flashbacks of her husband,  Dominic. Through his painful search for her I found myself hoping they would be reunited.  I remember playing Gears of War 2 with a friend online and having to pause when Dominic finally found Maria.  Their agonizing reunion also caused me anguish and I realized that all my rooting for their happiness was an exercise in futility.  I never got to know her, but one of the reasons I look forward to Gears 3 is to see if Dominic can find peace now that she is gone.

These characters are the exception to the notion that video games do indeed trivialize death.  Do a few wonderful exceptions mean the whole medium takes a more serious stance on death?  I don’t think so. I’ve probably seen and caused a hundred thousand deaths over the years and I could care less about most of them. I still love Clark’s analysis even if I disagree with his conclusion but at the same time I find it sad that game writers and researchers spend so much time wrestling with a 40-year old medium that is still, for the most part, trying to figure out how to tell a good story.  With death, we have the one thing that makes us all equal being used as a tool for a “re-do” in gaming.  In single-player games, it is a weakness in narrative. In multi-player death is simply a pause in the action.

There is hope however.  Clark himself points out with his final words that all is not lost.  Video games can provide a richer view of death. Further still, one of the comments to his piece notes how death can also be the goal of a game and not just a simple annoyance.  The writer of that post called the idea brilliant. In truth it is a fascinating idea and perhaps as video game narrative evolves someone will be bold enough to embrace such a view.  In the meantime, I will enjoy gems like Mass Effect 2 and I will keep waiting for Half Life 2 Episode 3.