Chungking Espresso

———A progression of spoilers occurs at each picture break.———

Dragon Age: Origins is a game about a relationship. Your core goal is to develop as many alliances as possible: an invading army of darkspawn necessitates the use of the Grey Warden treaties. These four tattered pieces of parchment, signed by the long-dead leaders of every nation, bind their descendants to the service of the greater good in perpetuity. This conceit relies on the “go to four places” trope of BioWare games, but its focus on army-building brings it closer to the spirit of real-time strategy games and the recent Brutal Legend. Choices made by the player via discrete “moral” decision points determine which factions fulfill their eternal promise to the Wardens.

These binaries are more ethically ambiguous than those of previous BioWare games: the player is constantly drawn away from her desire to roleplay either a “good” or “evil” character and into a pragmatic calculus. It helps that healing and destructive powers aren’t tied to a moral compass such as Jedi/Sith or Open Palm/Closed Fist. Another difference from previous titles is that party members can be abandoned at will; in some cases, if a particular party member has a vested interest in the outcome of one of the main quests, they may choose to side with your enemy during a boss fight. You can even kill a few of them before they have the chance to join your team, though the game never presents you with a particularly good reason to do so.

Although your decision to fill your ranks with former assassins and dark magi may give you pause, the game never betrays your trust in them. These relationships stand on a higher order than the alliances you make in the war against the darkspawn: your team members have meters that display their affinity to you, and increasing them unlocks new stories, quests, and latent abilities. You will come to care for some of these people—really care about them—in contrast to the emotionally- and motivationally-static citizenry that you’re attempting to spare from destruction. You will probably even despise some of them, depending on how the choices you make affect their interactions with you.

But the relationship that matters is a love triangle, forged by how you interact with two of the four party members the game has arbitrarily decided to establish as worthy of sexual engagement. In the case of my playthrough (as a straight, male, elven mage), the relationship that mattered was between Morrigan, Leliana, and myself.

Morrigan and Alistair are with you from the beginning of your adventure; they’re also essential to how the endgame plays out. These two characters are the most developed of all Dragon Age’s NPCs, which is only problematic when you consider that BioWare essentially makes a rule that the two heterosexual companions are the most important. Zevran and Leliana join your party during the first quarter of your playthrough; any player can make love to them, regardless of gender, because they’re designated as bisexual. There are no purely homosexual characters: Lel and Zev make it clear to you that their free sexual orientation arose from former occupations as spies and contract killers—a westernization of the Japanese “geisha assassin” trope.

It is also possible, though I cannot confirm it, that in the transition to consoles (which has been documented and critiqued by sites such as Eurogamer) BioWare preserved the integrity of the Alistair and Morrigan models and animations while compressing those of Zevran and Leliana (I observed a number of jagged edges and hard lines around Leliana’s features, a stark contrast to the warm, rounded faces of Alistair and Morrigan).

I began my playthrough of Dragon Age intending to be an evil blood mage. In my magi “origin story,” I betrayed a man named Jowan to the First Enchanter and doomed his relationship with a loving priestess. Certain later events made me realize that my decision didn’t make much of an impact here, but my intent to cause harm to someone established as my first friend remained. When I met Alistair, I found immediate distaste for his chivalrous demeanor. On the other hand, Morrigan was a godsend: a cynical, dispassionate “witch of the wild” to engage in conversation about the frailty of human emotion.

Cupping with Morrigan was easy. I proceeded through her dialogue tree on the stairwell leading to the first village the player encounters (Lothering). I sent Alistair and my dog away to kiss her. Within five minutes, I was back in the party’s camp ready to spend the night in her tent. When she asked me about my opinion of love, I told her that it was a farce. This is what she wanted to hear. Morrigan only goes to bed with you when she feels like it; if you press her, she’ll become angered and criticize your need for companionship. Both the feminist and the malevolent mage in me cherished her casual sexuality and freedom of choice. Once you achieve full alignment with Morrigan and begin your sexual relationship, she laughs at you whenever you begin a conversation with her.

The sex scene with all characters is roughly the same. Clad in underwear, you and your mate caress each other, kiss, and then engage in a number of your favorite positions (missionary and cowgirl included) until sated. Ridiculous, Enya-inspired music swells with the rising flames of a nearby campfire. After the achievement for being taken by Morrigan popped, I proceeded with my mission. That’s when I met Leliana.

Players encounter Leliana in a bar. She’s a priestess, fresh from the confines of a nearby Chantry nunnery, attempting to reason with a number of rowdy soldiers. I was still roleplaying “evil” at this point, so I slaughtered these men before even attempting to persuade them to leave peaceably through dialogue. Afterward, Leliana introduces herself to you and offers to join your party. I didn’t want another Chantry member tagging along—least of all one who receives visions from God—but I acquiesced because I knew there was another achievement for cupping her. Over the course of the next few hours, the things Leliana said made me decide that neither love nor the Chantry were things to abhor while playing Dragon Age.

I’ve never actually been involved in a love triangle or casual sexual encounter in real life, so I can’t confirm whether this is how these things actually play out; however, my relationships with Morrigan, Leliana, and Alistair began to feel true. I was no longer seeking to have sex with all my party members simply to ding achievements and increase their alignment. Leliana makes the transition easy for you: unlike Morrigan, she has both a French accent and an appreciation for tenderness. She was also slightly more difficult to court. Although I proceeded to the point where I could kiss Leliana rather quickly, the chance to make love with her didn’t arise until after I’d dealt with an enemy from her past.

One night, sitting around the campfire, I used my superior persuasion skills to convince Leliana that nothing was going on between myself and Morrigan. That same evening, I confided in Alistair the fact that I was close with both women. This both disturbed and titillated him: although Alistair fears Morrigan, it is obvious that he holds a perverse, virgin’s desire to see what making love to someone so dark and free would be like. I’ve read in forums that it is possible to maintain a sexual relationship with multiple party members at the same time; this was not the case for me, perhaps because I was honest with Alistair that night. That conversation with him reveals something often neglected in videogames: good, old-fashioned, Greek off-stage action. He reveals the fact that everyone else gossips about you behind your back; therefore, you no longer feel confident in the secrecy of your machinations and lies.

Before I was given the chance to engage Leliana sexually, she made me choose between her and Morrigan. I must have reloaded my game ten times, in vain, trying to find a course through the dialogue tree that would allow me to lie to her again. Eventually I chose to break things off with Morrigan. I didn’t think she’d mind, because she had been so insistent on keeping love out of the equation. She was simultaneously displeased and courteous, explaining that her man was hers and hers alone; this led to the loss of fifteen alignment points with her and a future of curt replies whenever I began a conversation. Now Leliana didn’t press me about visiting Morrigan’s tent at night. We made love in a scene nearly identical to that with Morrigan (they even wear the same underwear), and the next morning I awoke to her gazing at me adoringly. Achievement unlocked.

After beginning your monogamous relationship with Leliana, she always greets you with an, “aren’t you sweet and attentive?” Yes, in fact I am; I am in love with you. You, the only bard that matters, tell the stock Dragon Age story about Andraste better than anyone else in the world. I keep you in my combat party despite your lack of battle prowess, because you can unlock any chest and door. You’re perfect. After leaving camp and returning once more, Morrigan chides you for being so keen on Leliana. What can you say, other than that Leliana offers something she cannot? At this point, I’m fully on board with indulging priests in their lectures about the Chant of Light and the glory of God. I help every pitiful NPC in need that I come across. I never accept kisses as rewards or visit the brothel in Denerim. I make love to Leliana every time I return to camp: unlike Morrigan, she never denies my sexual appetite.

I maximized my potential awkwardness by maintaining a constant combat party composition of Alistair, Morrigan, and Leliana. I never managed to reach full alignment with Alistair, and much later in the game I was able to take revenge against him for betraying my trust. Every once and awhile I would stop to ask Leliana what she knew about our current locale, kissing her to make Morrigan jealous. Whenever Leliana or Alistair disagreed with my decisions, I would change them at the last minute. When this chafed against Morrigan’s tastes, I told her to keep her mouth shut. This situation remained the same for roughly half of my play experience.

———Magi Circle mission completion spoilers follow.———

Dragon Age complicates things after you visit the Circle of Magi, the core quest fragment that I completed last. In the office of the First Enchanter, you find a Black Grimoire that was somehow confiscated from Flemeth (the adoptive mother of Morrigan). When you present the tome to the cold witch, she is immediately disturbed. The book explains that Flemeth has made herself immortal by raising a new daughter every century and possessing her body when she comes of age. Flemeth sent Morrigan with you on your quest in the hopes that her daughter would become more powerful. The more attuned to magic Flemeth’s current daughter is, the easier it is for her to subdue and invade her body. Morrigan asks you to kill Flemeth and free her from this fate. This I did, simply because I was curious to see what would happen. Afterward, when I returned to Morrigan with news of her mother’s demise, things changed. Morrigan calls me her friend.

At this point, I realized that I may have made a mistake. Leliana indulges your need for sustained love and attention, but she has no meaningful character arc. Morrigan, on the other hand, was a real person. Maybe, if I’d stayed true to her, she would have eventually declared her love for me? There was no option to begin another sexual relationship with Morrigan, but I was happy to have her as a friend. Then, on a lark, I came across a golden mirror that Flemeth had taken from Morrigan when she was a child. When I presented the gift to her, I was given the chance to say that she was beautiful–she deserved this trinket and her vanity. I meant this as a friend. You can tell your female friends that they’re beautiful without implying sexual desire. That’s not how Leliana and Morrigan took the comment.

Perhaps it was a glitch caused by maxing out Morrigan’s alignment with the gift of the mirror. The next time I spoke with Leliana, she again accused me of spending the night in Morrigan’s tent. This was identical to the conversation I had with her near the beginning of our relationship. This time, I broke things off with Leliana. I was angered that she’d be so jealous of a harmless flirtation between myself and a friend. Then Morrigan revealed that she was in love with me, though she was obviously afraid to admit it. She wouldn’t have sex with me anymore, though, because “it would make things harder for us later.” She begged me to say that I didn’t care about her; I refused. You lose alignment points every time you broach the subject with her again, but she no longer has scruples about snogging in public or referring to you as “her love.”

Leliana proved remarkably amicable to my choice; a few times, on returning to camp, she would pull me aside to explain that she understood what I saw in Morrigan. I suppose this was the design team’s way of screaming, “Remember she’s bisexual!” But it worked. She required no convincing or gifts to establish the fact that she cherished our time together and continued friendship. She remained my trust lockpicker, and now she had the full spectrum of powerful Ranger and Bard skills at her disposal. Leliana is like a sister to me.

———Endgame spoilers follow.———

Near the end of the game, you learn that a darkspawn Archdemon can only be killed by a Grey Warden who sacrifices him- or herself while delivering the final blow. The demon’s “taint” melds with that of the Grey Warden and combusts (or something). One choice is to have Alistair or Loghain make this sacrifice. Morrigan presents you with a different option; finally I understood what she meant when she insisted that forsaking our relationships would make things easier in the end. Flemeth had warned me from the beginning, and again at the moment of her death, that Morrigan was a woman cut from the same cloth as the crafty witch of the wild. Once Morrigan learned from the grimoire how to possess another, she made a decision and hid it from me. Now, just before the final battle, she asked me to give her a child. When I killed the Archdemon, its soul would find the tainted fetus in her womb. She could sustain its life, and raise it in a faraway land. She told me I wouldn’t be able to follow her.

It’s obvious that Morrigan intends to someday possess the child, who would store the powerful soul of an Old God within it, in much the same way that Flemeth planned on betraying her own daughter. This is the “evil” ending of the game, but I nevertheless granted Morrigan her wish.

This love scene is different from the others. Instead of a few short caresses followed by a gauntlet-run of multiple sexual positions, Morrigan presents herself in a way befitting the occasion. This is the only time you see a near-naked mate standing in full profile for more than a split-second–the other scenes are shot mostly in medium close-up. Morrigan sways toward the bed and begins kissing you. She positions herself beneath you, you make a single thrust into her, and the scene is over. Morrigan is the only party member (besides Shale) not present during the playable celebration scene at the end of the game. You talk to a number of your compatriots, with the chance to follow to accompany them on new journeys. There’s an option to flirt with Leliana about the hero “always getting the girl,” but that would cheapen the entire experience.

When Anora, the queen of the land, asks me what I plan on doing now, I tell her that I’m going to go find Morrigan.

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This was my first attempt at New Games Journalism, something I personally despise—but I recognize its strength, even if I can’t passably wield it. I intended to write this as a pure, mechanical analysis of how the alignment system influences what relationships and dialogue options become possible, but that would require many more hours of testing and reloading to divine the secrets of the code’s black box. It also wouldn’t be as personally meaningful. I am convinced that this is the most realistic relationship depicted in any videogame I’ve ever played (my apologies for the hyperbole, Mitch); moreover, it wouldn’t play out exactly as it did if I hadn’t made the decisions I did at the precise moments that I made them.

The tacit feelings between Gordon and Alyx in Half-Life 2 are tangible, but bereft of agency. Your connection to the companion cube in Portal is a farce. In Mass Effect, making love to a party member is only possible during an intensely emotional time preceding what you know may be your death; the chance to build a relationship with an emotionally-damaged racist like Ashley was a major step forward for roleplaying videogames, but Dragon Age makes that particular space opera look like an early Edison film. This is a relationship rife with deceit, the tangible phenomenon of mistaken love, second-guessing, and second chances—to my knowledge, the first of its kind in this medium.