Returning to Dragon Age: Origins Today, for what was far from my first playthrough, I realized that it never had a true sequel (or maybe that’s a bit harsh for some: it never had a sequel that followed its classic RPG spirit in the same way). Yes, the world of Thedas was further explored by Hawke and the Inquisitor – with Rook soon to be added to the roster of overworked protagonists with a partner named Varric – but it never felt like the spirit of Origin’s Dungeons and Dragons-inspired design. has really been repeated within the franchise. As lore fleshed out and new stories irrevocably changed the future of Thedas (and everyone’s opinion of Anders and explosives), Dragon Age’s core gameplay shifted from intricate tactical positioning and D&D-lite RPG to a more “current”. combat and exploration – or at least what seemed to be current in the games of its time.

Dragon Age 2 for example, it was a limited character study by necessity due to its incredibly tight time frame (16 months!), replacing the plethora of voiceless dialogue options in Origins with a more limited but still voiced option, Mass effect-style dialogue wheel – a staple of all BioWare games now. Then Dragon Age: Inquisition bowed to the decade following the massive success of The Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim and went full-on open-world with pick-up materials every three steps, a ping button to spam, and so much bloat that the Zone starting the much-maligned Hinterlands has become one of the show’s biggest in-jokes. The official social media accounts even had to remind players that there was an entire game waiting for them beyond its borders.

Even with the big differences between all the games, Origins stands out. Not only did it set the stage for all of the series’ gloriously in-depth storylines—from complicated religions and warring countries to the fascinating and dangerous dream world of the Fade—it’s also a deeply nerdy take on fantasy in video games. It’s shown in touches like the intricate tactical system that allows you to control your party down to the details of how and when companions can perform any action, but also in the huge range of dialogue options that allow you to be as heroic, diabolical, or forward left-handed at will.

The game’s title, Origins, is another indicator here: that this game focuses on how you want to build your character above all else. You are not Hawke; you are not the Inquisitor; you are whoever you want to be in the world of Thedas, with a backstory that isn’t summarized on a character creation screen, but instead experienced firsthand, before you’re given the title of Gray Warden. You are the important one here, not your name. Are you a Dalish elf reluctant to leave your nomadic lifestyle, or are you a poor city elf, grateful to have escaped the poverty of Denerim’s alienation? A mage held in the isolated tower of the Circle, about to endure their horribly dangerous initiation, or a dwarf unable to use magic? Common, or noble?

These choices of race and background can drastically change the ending, your love options, and how the world reacts to you, but also, crucially, how you react to the world. I’m not usually one to think too deeply about the past of my RPG protagonists, but there’s something about the partially filled blank list that Origins starts you off with that gives me a slight nudge to join the RPG. I made a Dalish Elf on my most recent trip through the Blight-infested landmarks of Ferelden, and right from the start I decided to it only chooses the dialogue options I thought it would choose. Namely: cautious to the point of rudeness when it comes to people, asking about their Chantry religion when I was already fully aware of its gory backstory, while humoring demons I know have duplicitous intentions.

I also waited longer to love everyone’s favorite smartass royal bastard Alistair. Surely my Dalish ingenue wouldn’t start flirting with a man she just met! And so that embarrassingly awkward scene with us barely touching cloths would have to wait until my character was more comfortable around people. (Really, I’m not sure she’d ever be fully into it with the dog barking constantly in the background and a meter of space between her and the apparent love of her life as they marvel at each other’s polygons, but there’s only until now you can take a little.)

I don’t feel the attraction of playing together either. Somewhere between pretending to ignore Alistair and deciding whether or not to slaughter the poor potentially possessed mages at The Circle, I forgot about the consequences of downing a mysterious alchemical vial during the Warden’s Keep DLC. In a search for answers, I found a Reddit thread that quickly and dismissively answered the question of what he did, with the rest of the comments consisting of discussions of why each person’s Warden did or did not take the potion. (Compartment is additional abilities over some dubious manufacturing ethics, for those curious. Apparently blood magic and torture are a tough sell.)

The role-playing game may have its limits, but 15 years later, Origins still stands as a valiant attempt to provide a bridge from the Xbox 360 era to the almost limitless possibilities of Dungeon and Dragons.. The problem is, as such a good deck – and as a game that resembles the older school of RPG design – it’s easy to get frustrated with the broader, more action-focused route that Dragon Age has taken in the years since. But here’s the thing: It’s harder to be upset that the show went a more real-time, action-focused cinematic route in its sequel now that the phenomenon that is Baldur’s Gate 3 exist.

If Origins is a D&D middle ground, Baldur’s Gate 3 is, as we know all too well, as close to experiencing a Dungeons and Dragons campaign as a video game can get. Origins encourages you to roleplay, but in Baldur’s Gate 3, it’s almost impossible not to.

It has its own limitations, of course, but it doesn’t feel like it most of the time because of the amazing variety of options available in almost any situation. For an old Dragon Age: Origins player this is the dream. Stacking boxes to get to an area is just as viable an infiltration technique as turning into a mouse to sneak through a hole or teleporting over an obstacle with Misty Step. Companions and important NPCs can die. You can miss entire plots if you venture too far into the story. And your character race and class options are as vast as the unique combat, exploration, and dialogue options developer Larian gives you. Even the appeal of the slow-paced classic CRPG combat comes from the game’s huge variety of available options.

Also, Baldur’s Gate 3 – as I’ve always wanted from Dragon Age – allows you to delve deeper into the psyche of your flawed party, which can lead to romance with any of them. United not in the task of saving the world, but selfishly trying to get rid of their revealing parasites, your companions’ interactions are on an entirely different level, where hostility between them can even lead to their death if it’s you. not careful Although the rags and ten second clips of you staring at your scene partner are replaced here with those now infamous sex scenes that would make HBO blush.

Bladur’s Gate 3 is, in other words, a lot like Dragon Age: Origins, all big. I can’t help but appreciate the complementary D&D influence. Just as Origins was BioWare’s spiritual successor to its classic Baldur’s Gate games, Baldur’s Gate 3 feels very much like the spiritual successor to Dragon Age: Origins. Or at least the natural evolution of what the Dragon Age series could have been, had it leaned into its sillier, old-school CRPG side. Baldur’s Gate 3 picks up right where BioWare left off with that smaller, more focused group of companions structuring that the Dragon Age developer brought with Mass Effect and Dragon Age 2.

None of this, of course, is to say that Dragon Age 2 and Inquisition are bad – they just have very different design philosophies. I also don’t think Origins is still welcoming to series newcomers now that Baldur’s Gate 3 is here to steal your time. Instead, while it may be Darkspawn-tainted nostalgia, the point is that I think there’s still a place for Origins’ D&D-lite design today – perhaps, in a post-Baldur’s Gate 3 world, even more so now than there was in 2009. Origins may not have as many crippling choices and deep consequences as Baldur’s Gate 3, but I think that’s its main draw, aside from its harbinger of Dragon Age lore. It’s like starting a game of Dungeons & Dragons, only this time with a pre-made character sheet and starter pack – an experience that’s complicated enough to create something that feels unique, but not far enough away to manipulate the whole world. , beyond a few established options. A comforting compromise – that middle ground – compared to the sometimes overwhelming depth of some of today’s contemporaries. It was a joy to return to it – and Dragon Age: The Veilguard will hopefully be a joy in its own right and its own style when it brings a new spin of its own soon enough.