#grandwitchbird does game analysis kind of

[grandwitchbird]

So let’s talk about Veilguard as an intentional subversion of the heroic power fantasy in RPGs. This is messy because I’m still thinking about it.

Generally we’ve got two approaches to crafting subversive narratives: utilizing the conventions of genre and medium to subvert expectation, and/or writing from the margins and against hegemonic interests.

Note that the audience is presumed to be informed. There’s no sense in trying to subvert uninformed expectations.

Veilguard puts the power of writing from the margins at least partly in the player’s hands. Are you a former galley slave turned pirate? Are you a cursed warden doomed to die in a world that will pay lip service to ideals it doesn’t really believe in? Maybe you’re just trans in a world that only barely even has words for what that means. It’s a collaborative narrative after all. And you can be the hero if you want! The game does not take that from you. It’s just that there are consequences to your choices, and heroes don’t get to escape their stories.*

Relationships & Characters

The subversions are there at the micro level, in archetypes and arcs turned on their heads. The noir detective is a woman. The necromancer fears death. The big damn hero guy is happier and more fulfilled as a cat dad. Most importantly though, the player cannot solve these character’s problems. We can only stay beside them while they struggle. And we’re meant to struggle too. There’s no incentive to people please to game approval. Trying to game a romance system for kisses and content isn’t even possible here. Our only motivation can be genuine interest and investment in these characters as-written, something that has finally allowed BioWare to shake off the spectre of player-sexual gamified romance arcs.**

The Narrator

Varric’s (explicitly illusory) attempts to frame the story as a schlocky hero’s journey are constantly undermined. We already know he’s spinning stories because that’s what he’s done for 3 games now. His advice to go solve your team’s problems is canned and doesn’t really help for reasons that become painfully apparent later in the game. This Varric is just whatever perception-filtered memory Rook/Solas has of the real Varric. Varric’s absence as a character then haunts every corner of the story and calls every narrative frame into question: heroes of the Veilguard as a game mechanic, Neve as folk hero or criminal collaborator to the same ends, Rook only calling themselves a hero when playing storyteller themselves, even Rook’s moniker takes on a new shade after Solas pulls his castling maneuver and the illusion is broken.

Varric being an absent narrator pushing us along the hero’s journey allows that big reveal to free us even as it frees him from the role of narrator. It also challenges us because it gives us undeniable reasons to want personal revenge against Solas. The real Varric was just a guy who did his best and was often wrong. He made his choices and can rest now. But Solas made his choices too, even if the outcome wasn’t what he intended. And now we’re free to choose between their paths. We haven’t actually fixed anything because this world is much bigger than us. We can open doors, offer a shoulder, provide backup. We can trust and be trusted. We can make mistakes. We can punch a god and die a hero. But we don’t have to be the hero.

The Hero

Solas, the dreadwolf, god of lies (depending on the story) is of course the walking narrative key to all of this. It’s a retread of his own story we escape if we refuse to play the hero. But it should be noted that the heroic path is interesting in its own right! The dreadwolf rises also in us. Sacrifice the pawns, damn the consequences. It’s a story that’s tragic and brutal and unapologetic in its classic structure. We get caught by the story and become the very hero we’ve been fighting this whole time.

It’s just at least equally interesting that we don’t have to be the hero. And it’s deeply subversive that the path to freedom is gained at the cost of the power fantasy. We can be part of a team that is more than pawns in a game. Some other guy can kill a god, and that’s actually his win, not just a step on our path. Somebody else can die for the cause, and that’s their choice more than ours. Our romances are represented by flowers because they’re alive and growing and not just beats in a story. Even the tragic hero himself can change. And that’s only possible if we let go of the power fantasy completely. Rook stops being Rook at the end of that path. It’s why we’re not in the mural. We get to escape the story.

* We’re going to get into heroes and stories and why heroes can’t escape their stories next if I don’t run out of steam.

** Or just Shepherd-sexual in Mass Effect. I want to write more about romance separately because this is a whole thing.