Dragon Age further unveils itself as Bioware's anthemic triumph against a decade of disintegration
Cue the Hans Zimmer-ian BWAH of optimism arisen.
Faint whispers of the wind tell tales of a title known as Anthem: an illusory object, though not in the shape of Martin Sheen. This mechanical measure of games-as-a-service defies form: a persistent experience that lives on, in spite of abject neglect from its developer. Indeed, if one were inclined, they may step into the cold coil of a Jaeger - sorry, Javelin at this very moment. Upon launch in 2019, Bioware’s massively-misguided-multiplayer experience - following on from the frostbitten failure of Mass Effect: Andromeda - was met with acrid reviews; the game itself was toxic to certain systems. Though the manner of locomotion, allowing players to wear a Temu Iron Man chassis to fight a quartet of enemies, was praised to a particular end, the ingrained Bioware storytelling sensibility actively competed against means of live-service manicuring. Ultimately, those familiar with the team behind Knight of the Old Republic were dissuaded by the online component; shooter fans were set aside by the rote design of its loot loop.
Mass Effect: Andromeda failed to secure refuge for the franchise’s immediate future.
Upon launch, Anthem failed to sustain flight - Bioware immediately pressed self-destruct, abandoning their plans for serialised storytelling in favour of smaller content updates. Mercifully, the pandemic provided a sardonic cover for their gradual abandonment of its salvation; the team retired the title in 2021 to comprehensively shift their focus to Dragon Age 4 and Mass Effect 5. The former would become Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, then The Veilguard; the latter is still gestating, albeit slowly.
The last age of dragon concerned a grand inquisition, sporting a novel four-player co-op system. Prior to the game’s active production, Bioware had experimented with a prototype multiplayer title, entitled Blackfoot. Thus, this shift to a cooperative model was not without internal precedent - though it was consistent with contemporaneous external pressure. Granted, this alteration in the series’ structure was recognised as a regrettable echo of Dragon Age II’s tumultuous development: EA required Bioware to develop the game within a slim margin of fourteen to sixteen months. Today, Triple A titles incubate within a pre-production time of two years. Thus, against Origins’ labyrinthine complexity, Dragon Age II’s streamlined constitution was reflected through its solitary city, concessions to appease console converts, and the title itself.
Alternatively, Dragon Age can be regarded as “Baldur’s Fence”.
Ironically, the damning, circuitous passage of time has rekindled EA’s love of the arts. Whereas single-player experiences were radically deemphasised within the publisher at the beginning of Bioware’s hibernation - the same year the company spoke of the pride and accomplishment of unlocking Darth Vader in Star Wars: Battlefront II - the studio are arriving within the midst of a silver age of their solitary slate. Though live-service titles comprise a 70% share of their yearly revenue, C.E.O. Andrew Wilson noted the imperative for his company to “tell incredible stories” and “build tremendous online communities” through imbuing their portfolio with narrative adventures. The quotidian security of EA FC’s profitability allows the company to maintain a label dedicated to publishing original properties. In short, It Takes Two to make a Sims go right. Nevertheless, EA are not particularly daring in their single-player endeavours on a macro scale: a nascent trilogy of Star Wars Jedi titles, a remaster of the Mass Effect trilogy, and a remake of the first Dead Space are the most prominent exercises in brand management concerning this minor shift in strategy.
Thus, Dragon Age: The Veilguard - once titled Dreadwolf, changed to reflect the narrative’s pivot from the centrality of the character of Solas - is a reflection of a company contending with the potency of its ident. For the majority of consumers, EA once represented craven, arcane greed, deemed the worst company in America twice in a row - against banks and defence contractors. Admittedly, this is a greater indictment on the juvenile consternations of the internet - however, unlike Lockheed Martin, EA are not in a covenant with their audience. Indeed, their sports division will yield annual investments, weathering design malaise and disgruntled forum follies; those who once regarded Bioware as gaming’s most trustworthy storytelling enterprise are not satiated by light looter-shooters. To ensure a holistic mastery of their services, The Veilguard must retain the series’ core audience, whilst wooing neutrals considering a title in the vein of Larian’s Baldur’s Gate 3 - erstwhile Bioware’s signature property.
Evidently, reception to the title has scaled from cold to lukewarm. A reveal trailer, curiously closer to the register of Dungeons and Dragons: Honour Among Thieves than the Baldur’s Gate triptych, was lambasted upon its unveiling; a gameplay excerpt minute in execution was closer to the expected character of the title, despite particular conceptual oddities. Given the series’ increasing divergence from the eponymous originating entry, The Veilguard will likely be a success with regard to corporate optics: at least it is a complete exercise, rather than a frayed jumble of live-service ambition. Furthermore, Bioware may gather enough consumer capital to launch their Mass Effect revival upon a foundation of goodwill; hopefully the Geth will not emerge in our timeline before then.