accidentally attended a funeral dressed like this:
Okay, it wasn’t technically a funeral, but it was still a pretty bad look. When my beloved Lucanis asked me to come along to Treviso to help his family to arrange his mother’s funeral, I said yes. Not only have I already fallen in love with this Spaitalian assassin, I’ve fallen in love with his city, too. This is all in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, by the way. Not real life.
I love ziplining between the Venetian-style buildings, laws of gravity be damned. I love fighting an insurrection against the Qunari occupation, although I wish the oppressors were explored deeper. I even love constantly falling in the canals because I’m too busy trying to look cool in front of Lucanis and end up vaulting over a fatal ledge.
So if I’m asked to travel to my favourite city in Tevinter to support the love of my life in his time of need, you bet I’ll be there. My Rook immediately changed into her armour and headed to the nearest Eluvian. The problem was, I forgot what she was getting changed into.
Hence the pigeon costume. Imagine introducing your more-than-friend-but-not-quite-partner-yet to your family for the first time and they’re wearing a pigeon costume. Now imagine that all this is taking place just before your mother’s funeral. Awkward much?
Thankfully, Lucanis didn’t seem to mind. I mean, I said all the right things and supported him as best I could, I just dread to imagine what his cousins think of me.
On second thoughts, maybe it’s a positive. This headdress, which closely resembles a pigeon, is clearly meant to be a crow. I found it in Treviso, home of the Antivan Crows, and the assassins themselves aren’t shy about decorating their cloaks and pauldrons with a healthy layer of feathers. Perhaps this is normal Trevisan mourning garb. Perhaps they only felt awkward because they’d left their pigeon/crow/other bird headdress at home and I was the best looking gal in the room.
Rook is an honourary Crow, so, like, a pigeon. This is a pigeon hat from here on out.
All jokes aside, I love that The Veilguard is offering up funny moments like this. When the plot is so self-serious and the dialogue so cringe-inducing, I’ve got to find my own fun. And what better way to find your own fun than by finding fashion?
I’ve always hamstrung myself in RPGs by refusing to minmax my armour and weapons in favour of picking the coolest, rarest, or wackiest outfits imaginable. It’s why I failed so miserably at Elden Ring. Fashion Souls isn’t a choice, it’s a lifestyle. And a pigeon head is fashion, baby.
Where The Veilguard shines is in its customisation. Whatever armour set you want to use, you can equip. But when you’re back at the Lighthouse, you can head to your wardrobe to choose which outfit you want to wear. See the difference? Whichever armour set you have equipped for its premier stat buffs, you look like you’re wearing the one you chose in the meditation room.
This is all very cool until you pick up a sick piece of armour mid-mission and have to wait until it’s over to see what it looks like.
This level of granular transmogrification is exactly what fashion-conscious players like me love. Now I can build my optimal Rook without sacrificing my bird headdress. I can look like a prat in every serious cutscene without looking like a prat while lying dead in front of a boss because I didn’t have the right belt equipped or something. Rook can be her true avian self without compromising the mission.
Hold on a second. I’ve just had a thought. I think this helmet looks like a pigeon, the Antivans assume I’m showing them deference with a crow reference, but what if we’re both wrong. What if Rook is being true to herself in every way possible. What if this isn’t a crow but another corvid? A… Rook, perhaps? It’s all coming together. Without any canonical background written by BioWare, perhaps my Rook comes from an obscure Dalish clan (one with proper accents) that dress to match their animal names? Perhaps this is my form of traditional dress. That’s why Lucanis doesn’t mind. That’s why it’s not offensive to wear a pigeon rook headdress to a funeral. This is me now, mum, I’m a rook. I’m Rook. It’s not a phase.