|Insert yo broodmama jokes....NOW!!|
Back story. For the past couple of months, I've returned to the world of Dragon Age. Electronically, that is, in the form of Dragon Age: Origins for the Xbox 360. It's not my first time, but I've enjoyed it immensely more than my first time out due to two simple factors. One, elves aren't the glorious immortals made out in every other fantasy campaign known to existence. And two, I'm a rogue.
Yet last night's events have threatened to derail my efforts to finish this fucking game once more by striking at my weakest point: reminding me that it's a video game. During all three efforts to take on the infamously nippled broodmother (pictured above), my elf rogue continuously changed his mind on who he was going to attack, wandering off to get into some bizarrely accurate position against a tentacle or approaching shriek and throwing my entire plan of attack on its arse. Which is exactly where all my party members ended up, except dead.
I'm not sure if it's a glitch in this particular skirmish or intentionally done to complicate matters, but it broke the veil of fantasy and reminded me that I'm holding a controller in my hands and the commands and options presented are only limited to the decision put forth by the creators of the game. It's not the first time it's happened to me during a video game and it always leads to my dismissal from the game's presence, but this one was personal. I thought we had something, Dragon Age and I.