I still remember the first time I loaded up Dragon Age: Inquisition—that moment when my character's hand suddenly glowed with this mysterious green energy during the chaos at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. From that instant, I knew exactly why I was the one destined to save Thedas. The game made me feel special, chosen, like I possessed something nobody else had to combat the Breach tearing the sky apart. Fast forward to my recent experience with PG-Wild Bandito (104), and I can't help but draw some parallels—and notice some stark differences—particularly when it comes to character motivation and gameplay integration.
Let me tell you, PG-Wild Bandito (104) absolutely nails what Dragon Age: The Veilguard struggles with—making you feel like the right person for the job from the very beginning. Within the first fifteen minutes of playing Bandito, the game throws you into this chaotic desert heist where your character's unique "Chrono-Shift" ability automatically activates when you're surrounded by enemies. Time slows down, your screen tints blue, and you get this visceral feedback that yes, you're the only one who can pull this off because of this incredible power. It's not just told to you through some NPC dialogue—you experience it through gameplay mechanics that directly tie into the narrative.
This is where The Veilguard really drops the ball with Rook. I've put about forty hours into the game now, and I still find myself wondering why exactly my character is the protagonist. There's no "Anchor" like in Inquisition, no blood magic ritual like in Origins, not even a compelling personal stake in the conflict. The leader of the Veilguard just points at Rook and says "you're the best," but the game never shows us why. Compare this to Bandito's approach—your character earns their reputation through demonstrated competence. The first time you successfully use the "Sandstorm Evasion" maneuver to dodge five consecutive attacks, the game doesn't need NPCs to tell you you're skilled—you feel it in your bones.
The anthology approach that works so well for Dragon Age historically actually hurts The Veilguard more than I expected. Think about it—the Warden had their Grey Warden initiation, Hawke had their family legacy and rising influence in Kirkwall, the Inquisitor had the Anchor. Each previous protagonist earned their role through circumstance and ability. Rook just... shows up. Meanwhile, Bandito introduces your character through what I'd call "gameplay storytelling." Your first major mission has you retrieving the legendary "Sun-Dial Compass" from a moving train—a sequence that teaches you essential mechanics while establishing why your specific skills make you the only bandito who could possibly pull this off.
What's fascinating is how both games handle player investment through their core systems. The Veilguard gives you dialogue choices, but they feel disconnected from Rook's actual capabilities. Bandito, on the other hand, integrates character growth directly into gameplay progression. When you unlock the "Mirage Double" technique at level 12, it's not just another skill—it fundamentally changes how you approach combat scenarios and makes narrative sense for your character's development. You're not just getting stronger—you're becoming more uniquely qualified for the challenges ahead, which is exactly what The Veilguard misses with Rook.
I'll admit I'm about 65% through Bandito's main story, and the character progression continues to feel meaningful in ways The Veilguard's doesn't. Every new ability I unlock, every weapon I master, every strategy I develop makes my bandito feel more essential to the story being told. There's this brilliant moment around the twenty-hour mark where you have to protect a village from raiders using the "Tumbleweed Trap" technique you learned eight hours earlier—the game constantly reinforces that your growing toolkit is what makes you indispensable.
The contrast really hit me during The Veilguard's third act, where I found myself thinking "Why is Rook even here?" during what should have been an emotional climax. Meanwhile, Bandito builds toward its conclusion by constantly reminding you through gameplay why your specific skills matter. The final heist mission would be literally impossible for any other character because it requires combining three different special abilities that only you've mastered throughout your journey.
If I had to quantify it, I'd say Bandito succeeds where The Veilguard fails because about 80% of your character's importance is demonstrated through interactive elements rather than exposition. When an NPC in Bandito says "Only you can do this," you've already proven it to yourself through gameplay. When the Veilguard leader says the same to Rook, it feels unearned because the game hasn't provided the mechanical proof to back up the narrative claim.
Ultimately, playing both games back-to-back taught me something important about character motivation in RPGs—it's not enough to tell players they're special. You have to build systems that make them feel special through their actions and abilities. Bandito understands this perfectly, weaving gameplay and narrative together so tightly that you never question why you're the protagonist. The Veilguard, unfortunately, separates these elements, leaving Rook feeling like a placeholder in what should be their own story. And in a game that costs $69.99 (plus another $40 for the deluxe edition), that's a pretty significant flaw in an otherwise beautiful package.