Dragon Age: Origins Was the First Video Game to Ever Love Me Back

I guess I need to try to put this feeling into words; after all, no, I'm not crazy and I do not think they literally love me. But there have been so many instances of "right game at the right time" in my life where a game has helped me navigate something so much more than I could handle alone. Sometimes it's relatively simple. I am not the most social person, but we are social creatures, with games like Apex Legends and Phasmophobia giving me an outlet to see and speak with friends, deal with struggles, have camaraderie that I would otherwise forego. Sometimes games help guide and control my compulsions. I am a hasty, decisive in-the-moment kind of guy who often thinks quickly and acts quicker, but Death Stranding helped me see value in slowing down and controlling my own compulsions. And sometimes it's serious. God of War (2018) helped me greatly after I lost my grandfather, and while it didn't take away the pain, I saw him in Kratos and myself (at least a younger me) in Atreus.

How do you quantify or qualify that in a love for a game? You can't. No number score will ever convey the deep impact a game can have on a person or these moments where games are there for you, where the love you have for them is returned. Not all games have the timing, the design, or that X-factor to be this, nor should they as being a fun game is all they need to be, and it's going to be highly individualized by nature. But I can recall the specific moment I first encountered this sensation, where I knew Dragon Age: Origins loved me back.

It was the first game to ever do so, but as to how and why—well, dear reader, that's going to require you to keep reading. I've chased that high in every game since and many have created similar feelings, but just like with real love, there's always something a little different with the first. Dragon Age: Origins was the first game to ever love me back, and the franchise and I have been steady ever since.

Love at First Sight

Dragon Age: Origins came out in 2009, but my access to an Xbox 360 and video games was extremely limited then. It was around 2011 or 2012 when I first played the franchise, as Dragon Age 2 was also out. I don't remember how I stumbled onto the franchise or if I was just asking friends for a game to borrow, but one mentioned owning these two games. I borrowed the first one, then the second one—despite his warnings that the two Dragon Age games were very different. I was young, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and I knew nothing about video game development. He was right, the two were very different, and I wouldn't understand why for several years. But I'll have a Dragon Age 2 rant soon enough.

I remember, in vivid detail, my first Dragon Age: Origins character despite him being lost to time thanks to profile and hardware changes. His name was Raleigh Tabris, a red-headed City Elf Warrior. Off the rip, the fact that there were multiple starts to the game spoke to me, and I always kind of chuckle about this choice looking back. Nowadays, for example, I am not much of an Elf "person" in my personal flavors of fantasy, but I chose this to recreate, as close as possible, my first Dungeons and Dragons character who was a Half-Elf named Raleigh. Both characters were named Raleigh, which would eventually become the name of my firstborn son, as I was legitimately obsessed with this name because I was so, so intrigued by Sir Walter Raleigh.

A special interest, a hyperfixation, I don't know, but I do know I can tell you that Walter Raleigh wrote his name several different ways, that he was the founder of both Roanoke colonies, and that the second one had all its people up and disappear (which a lot of fictional works used as a cool jumping board for American vampires). I digress, but so many of my personal idiosyncrasies went into this character. What's in a name and all that.

It was the first major RPG where I truly felt like I was playing a "self-insert," despite not knowing the term at the time. Of course I had played RPGs like Oblivion, but in those I took on a character; in Dragon Age: Origins, my character took on my traits. At that age, I was an idealistic kid who believed that good would overcome evil, who still deeply struggled with his own anger issues. I felt the world was unfair, that the poverty I was raised in was inescapable, and yet I still believed I could bring my family out of those darkest days. In Dragon Age: Origins, I was able to project all of these into my character, and it supported me at every turn.

I was a young City Elf who wanted to get married, but of course, the humans of Dragon Age took that from me. Subject to these evils, Duncan offered me a way out by joining the Grey Wardens—a way that I could bring good to face evil. As I worked my way through the game, navigating the Mages and Templar, trying to create peace between Dalish and Werewolves, seeking the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and politicking my way through the Dwarven King stalemate, I was able to express bits of my rage and anger in character while ultimately seeking to do something good. I chose the good ending, or sought after it, in every conflict every time I could, but I was also able to be direct and challenge what I thought was wrong.

All the while, I became more and more intrigued by the conflicts around Ferelden. I love Templars, their intention to protect at least and especially their armor, but I recognized how extreme the Rite of Annulment was. I've been a fervent supporter of Mages ever since (and, foreshadowing-wise, Anders was right in his actions). The way Dragon Age navigates magic has always been a strong sticking point that tickles every fantastical fantasy I had, especially after it was just an accepted thing, more or less, in all other games I had played. Raleigh was a sword-and-board warrior, my typical go-to in fantasy then (and still a favorite now), but Dragon Age showed me ways that magic could be more than what I had encountered and seen by that age.

With the Dalish, Dragon Age tickled my love of history. I loved the conflict, but especially how the Dalish camp showed me how cracked and broken their own understanding of history is. I minored in history in college and have always loved it, so once again, a part of me was reflected back with the Dalish.

Sometimes video games just need to do cool things, and Dwarven lore remains one of my favorite parts of the franchise because it had such a strong sense of "rule of cool." I love the Deep Roads, the constant conflict with the Darkspawn, the lost history, how Dwarves were unique among the other races in Thedas, their connection with the stone, the veneration of Paragons as opposed to gods (and especially how this has developed into Titan lore), and everything that went into Dwarves. And humans? Humans are your milquetoast race in any fantasy setting, but because they are so involved in other elements (magic) and have cool things too (the Andrastian faith for example), they really made me love the game more. Loghain is exactly what a human antagonist in a setting should be.

I'll be honest. Looking back, I made some really weird decisions in Dragon Age: Origins that I would probably never make again. I didn't fully understand the importance of Lothering, so I kind of just moved through quickly. Leliana makes herself known rather easily, but I walked on by Sten without a second thought. I romanced Morrigan, but later, I made the Ultimate Sacrifice instead of pursuing the OGB story. Ironic, really, because I prefer the OGB ending today. But I was learning about Thedas, Dragon Age: Origins, and myself in the only way someone can come to truly know and love another: in messy, unorthodox ways.

The Landsmeet & The Battle of Denerim

When Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden came face to face with Loghain, I don't think there was a more poignant moment in my gaming history where I stood toe to toe with a villain and wanted to knock them off their high horse. Loghain had come to symbolize everything wrong with Ferelden, and everything in me screamed to challenge him and take him down. Over time, especially after reading the Dragon Age novels/multimedia, my status as Loghain's #1 hater probably deteriorated. He's so compelling that I love him, but in a sense that I hate him and everything he came to symbolize, so perhaps I can love to hate him?

Either way, in the game itself, I will fight and kill him every chance I get. Loghain delivers on all this so subtly, so well, so much that sparing him is one of few decisions I've seen once and swore to never do again. He became this symbol to me, this challenge, everything that I opposed in-game and in life. By the time I made it to the Landsmeet, Dragon Age: Origins had made an impression on me that I could never lose. I was excited to borrow the next game, was excited to learn more about the franchise (I would spend so much time in wikis after beating it), and I had to have it.

I'm getting ahead of myself a little bit, but Dragon Age: Origins was one of those first obsessions that I had to satisfy. Love and obsession can be summarized in moments, sometimes, where every romance story, good romcom, or real-life whirlwind can hinge on obvious-to-everyone-but-blind-to-yourself realizations complete with some swooping in to prevent bad decisions. See? Swooping is not always bad. For me, what ensured my love for Dragon Age: Origins would last decades was the discovery that a Grey Warden had to die to slay the Archdemon.

I believed, that night, that I would fight alongside Alistair and Riordan to bring down this great evil together. Every cinematic, however simplistic they were, evoked this feeling throughout the Battle of Denerim. Then, the choice came down to me. Was I willing to sacrifice my life to save Ferelden from the Blight? The torn, ugly, sometimes too dark Ferelden where injustice was everywhere and evil plagued this land in all its forms, and I stood between it and a sick, twisted, deepening of those injustices.

I remember setting my controller down before facing the Archdemon because, for all the video games I played, stories I've read, and movies I'd seen, I am a sucker for an ultimate sacrifice. But it hit me so hard that this was possible, that I could—with my life—right so many wrongs. Of course, Ferelden would face similar conflicts in the years that followed, but in that moment, it was just me and this choice. It hit me so hard because I knew the answer before the game ever posed the question. I had fallen in love with the world of Dragon Age, and I would do anything for this IP, for this game, for this fantasy world. And it gave me the chance, even if just a single choice, to do that. Raleigh Tabris died killing the Archdemon, and Dragon Age would return that love to me at every chance thereafter.

Still, I had borrowed it and needed to return the game. I didn't want to, but at the very least, I immediately followed it with Dragon Age 2. I would return to Origins as soon as I could after, having bought a collector's edition steelbook from another friend of mine. I still have it, the map of Ferelden displayed proudly in my bedroom.

I went back and played every choice, every origin, and learned everything about Thedas I could from the games, from the wikis, and from every source I could. I love Dragon Age the way the most hardcore fans love The Elder Scrolls, Star Trek, The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and basically any popular IP with a super active fandom you can think of. I'll die on the hill that it should be as popular as any of these, and the fact that it isn't is something I will never understand.

• My favorite origins remain the Dwarven Noble and Mage

I played Dragon Age: Origin s so much on my Xbox 360, then I would replicate that on my Xbox One, and yes, it still usually pops up in my most-played games of the year list every time my Series X wants to out me like that. It is the only game that I play at least once or twice every year, while playing probably a lot more games than the average person. I've loved other games, some have loved me back, but none of them have come close to Dragon Age: Origins.

The thing is, I didn't think Dragon Age could top that moment of realization where I faced off with the Archdemon, and then I met the Architect.

Awakening a Deep Love

I love the Hero of Ferelden and my favorite ending is the dark ritual with Morrigan, but over the years, I've beaten the game so many times and experienced everything at least once. Awakening's brevity means that I tend to forget my Warden-Commander who followed Raleigh, as well as characters since, but I cannot forget what Awakening did for me as well.

Vigil's Keep was a tease for Weisshaupt's grandiosity, but still, being given control of a Keep was such a strong step. The Darkspawn attack opening is a classic, and it's a rather smooth transition coming from Origins' base game. But the first moment a Darkspawn talked? Awakening took the hook that Origins buried in me and attached that thing to my soul. Before I get ahead of myself, the companions of Awakening are some of my favorite in the franchise.

I had played Dragon Age 2 already, so going in blind and realizing Anders was a companion? Realizing Justice was a companion? Oh my god, it endeared the Mage to me even more. Every time I revisit Awakening, it is a FIGHT not to just use Anders and Justice the entire time. Nathaniel Howe? Few moments in gaming are as vindicating as striking down Arl Rendon Howe, especially after knowing the Human Noble storyline, and to face the consequences of my actions in the flesh? Nathaniel's redemption arc fits so damn perfectly. All of them—Oghren, Sigrun, and Velanna—contributed largely to why I love Awakening so much.

But the number one contributor? The Architect's story and the reveal that he awoke the Archdemon. Yet, instead of seeing him as something who intentionally unleashed evil on Ferelden, his morals and goals aligned with mine at the time. I was so enraptured by a moment of great evil, where I could be the difference maker that brings good, that the fact Darkspawn were not just evil incarnate had never crossed my mind. I was so new to the lore that, as The Architect revealed how Darkspawn were slaves to the Call of the Old Gods, I became so excited about where the story could take this next.

To this day, the fact that we have not seen an Awakened Darkspawn storyline, much less the return of the Architect, remains one of my top 10 anime betrayals of all time. I want to romance a Darkspawn so badly, although I am unsure if this sentiment started with my first run of Awakening or not, and I would settle just for a Darkspawn companion. The narrative hooks and devices, even when accounting for the Blight, are there. The fact that it has never happened, or at least the plot line resolved (especially given one version of Dragon Age: Inquisition's Here Lies the Abyss planned to use The Architect), is easily my biggest disappointment out of BioWare, and I played Anthem day one.

I'm kidding! I'm kidding!—please don't take that too seriously. But I will likely be an old man in a retirement home screaming about this injustice like I'm Anders in Kirkwall. Err, okay, definitely don't take that seriously at all.

And while I am singling out Awakening, the entire Dragon Age: Origins DLC package (everything from Shale and Warden's Keep to Golems of Amgarrak and Witch Hunt) made me feel at home, recognized, loved. That was the magic of Dragon Age, a magic I maintain it still carries, and while the franchise may have had an identity crisis from day one, it's okay—I was too.

Love Isn't Perfect

I'm a nerd with an English degree. I'm so sorry, skip this paragraph if you realize you don't have a clue what I say in the next sentence. But, one of my favorite works of American literature is Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Birth-Mark. Summarizing it feels wrong, but in a quick gist, it's essentially about this obsessive scientist who "accidentally" kills his wife by trying to fix one "flaw," a birth-mark upon her cheek. It's been one of my favorites since I first read it, and it's largely a lesson I've taken to apply to everything: Perfection is bullshit.

Dragon Age: Origins is not a "perfect" game, and I will continue to rally against the notion that anything is perfect. I'm not too sure how deep I want to get with this, but all too often it feels like the words "fact" and "opinion" have taken on each other's meanings. We debate facts even when there is no room to debate, and treat different opinions as if they are just plain wrong. I don't care what your favorite game of all time is (in the kindest reading of that phrase), that could be anything and you are entitled to it, but I am just happy you have something you can put on that pedestal. I put Dragon Age: Origins on that pedestal.

When someone says they hate the combat, I nod and understand completely, but that Birth-Mark does not make me love the game any less. When someone says it is too dark, I nod and understand somewhat (though I maintain the idea is how hope survives and fights against that), but that Birth-Mark does not make me love the game any less. Cite any outdated, rough, visual, or systemic Birth-Mark in the game, and they probably exist. There's a reason Dragon Age: Origins is often cited as a fan-demanded remaster, with split opinions of course, and that's okay. For me, none of this makes me love it any less. I want one, just for the sake of more Dragon Age games being made, but even then I can't confidently say I would play it more than the OG.

Dragon Age: Origins is my favorite game of all time, and this is coming from a man who hates the phrase "of all time." But it always will be because of everything it gave me. I often struggle to play a game more than once, twice at most if it's a really good game and time has passed, but I replay Dragon Age: Origins at least once or twice a year. That's big for me, and that is how I show my love for it. In return, it has given me as much love back.

Dragon Age Saw Me

This beautiful, twisted, imperfect world saw me and gave me a sandbox in which to live my strongest fantasies: being a good person in an otherwise bad world. This formula has twisted and changed, and while none of the games are perfect, every evolution of that sandbox has built upon a world I love like no other. Origins, DA2, Inquisition, and Veilguard remain the most important games in my life.

It's a common enough "phenomenon" that the first game we play of any franchise becomes the favorite. The other day, someone assumed I played The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass first as a child and that's why I like it so much. That's not the case, but I understand where they are coming from. It's true enough for Dragon Age: Origins as well, even if I love every game more than most games. Origins just stands out to me for everything it established and built and gave to me over a decade ago. How could I not want to return my love to Thedas at every turn? Dragon Age has been there for me since my troubled teenage years, and I don't know a better expression of love than that. I can be a lot to deal with, and I certainly was then.

A few paragraphs ago, I highlighted how a game's ability to be there during a tough time, or to gift you with new ideas, or to help you realize something about yourself, or to give you unique opportunities, is how I would define a game loving you back. And I also said I would come back to the question of how I would "define" Dragon Age: Origins love for me.

The answer to fill in with your #2 pencil is all of the above. You've passed the quiz. Dragon Age: Origins helped me as a teenager, showed me my ideals were not so wrong, helped me realize more than a few things about myself, and, heck, gave me the passion to pursue doing this. I will never forget when I joined the The Best War Games team. I talked about Dragon Age as my favorite video game franchise, and as soon as I could, I wrote an article on the franchise. (I joined in 2017 and wrote an article on Varric's Hard in Hightown, written by Mary Kirby, becoming a real book published by Dark Horse Books).

Dragon Age, Origins and as a whole, is my sandbox where I can go and just be, not as an escape (necessarily), just a place I can be. It saw me, welcomed me in, gave me Grey Wardens and all the companions as action figures, and gave me Denerim, the Brecilian Forest, Redcliffe, Haven, Orzammar and the Deep Roads, Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine, and so many other locations as sandcastles.

I can share; you're free and welcome to play in it too. This sandbox means the world to me, so I take some ownership of the franchise, even if it's really just in my own head. Dragon Age, as much as any video game can be, has always been for fans and players. That has not changed. I didn't know it as a teenager, but Dragon Age: Origins and beyond would represent ideals that fit very closely with my own, letting me live in a sandbox that was close to my own changing understanding of the world. Dragon Age grew and changed, so did I, but what hasn't changed is that sandbox's love for me, too. That's the magic of video games, that's the implication of "best of all time," and that's why foul notions of "perfection" and the demand for universal opinions will not, and cannot, sway me away.

It's me and you forever, Dragon Age.

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9 /10

Dragon Age: Origins

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Released

November 3, 2009

ESRB

M for Mature: Blood, Intense Violence, Language, Partial Nudity, Sexual Content

Developer(s)

BioWare

Publisher(s)

Electronic Arts

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