The Veilguard Makes Me Feel Seen As a Trans Player, But Blockbuster Games Can Do Better

There’s a tweet that makes the rounds every so often that says, “Getting queerbaited by Marvel is like losing at chess to a dog.” It’s a reference to the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s history of only hinting at queer characters and the idea that we should know better than to expect more by now. It also describes my feelings toward expecting trans representation in blockbuster games. Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s approach to trans characters feels like a step forward, but the mere fact that it does highlights just how low the bar is.

The Veilguard’s options for playing the protagonist, Rook, as a trans character begin at the creation screen. There are no “male” or “female” body types. Regardless of your character’s appearance, you choose their gender identity and pronouns separately, though I haven’t seen anywhere in the game where your choice of gender identity actually comes into play. Otherwise, the only nod to trans identity is the ability to add top surgery scars to your character.

All I can really say about this is that it’s fine. These are frankly all options that should be standard in character creators by this point. I’d rather see them included than not, but it doesn’t do anything to make me feel more seen as a trans person.

The Veilguard slowly reveals its actually interesting take on trans characters shortly after the game begins in earnest. In an early scene, Rook unpacks their belongings, including a mirror given to them by returning character Varric. Upon pulling out the mirror, you choose from a menu of options with some choices that establish Rook as trans.

The inclusion of these options sets The Veilguard apart from other games, though I’d again argue that being able to make a canonically trans character should be the bare minimum for a role-playing game. What The Veilguard gets right isn’t just that this scene exists, but that it makes room for different trans experiences. You can choose dialogue options that highlight different feelings your Rook can have about their transition, from the struggle of your image in the mirror not matching your idea of yourself, to the joy of knowing you’ve fought to find your real self.

“It took a while for me to figure out why the face staring back from the mirror felt wrong,” my Rook said when I chose the last option. “But once I was able to be honest with myself, it was a relief to figure out I was trans. And it’s worth it to look in the mirror today and see the woman I am staring back.”

Without exaggeration, it’s the most I’ve ever felt my own experiences of transition reflected back at me in a blockbuster game. It even helps to know that other versions of that scene exist, which keeps The Veilguard from implying that every trans person experiences gender the same way.

There are other moments where you’re able to reference your trans identity, though few feel as impactful as this initial choice. Where they do become important is in dealing with Taash, the game’s only other out trans party member. Each character has a series of personal quests, and Taash’s center on their discovery and understanding of their own nonbinary identity.

The scene where Taash realizes they’re nonbinary is another high point of The Veilguard’s trans representation. Taash’s epiphany comes seemingly out of nowhere. They’re talking with another party member about how their mom used to try to make them wear dresses. Taash (who was assigned female at birth) recalls liking the way it felt when their mom said they didn’t act like a woman.

A less confident game could have played up the drama of the scene and turned it into an emotional, teary affair. Instead, it takes an approach that fits Taash’s brash, unflappable character and mirrors the way that, for many trans people, the biggest revelations about your identity can come from innocuous conversations with friends. Taash even tries to divert the conversation, saying, “This is stupid. Forget I said anything,” gesturing at one of the many ways newly out trans people can turn away from scary truths about ourselves.

If you choose to empathize with Taash, Rook’s response is excellent here, too. Rook recalls thinking that everyone must feel conflicted about their gender the way they did, and emphasizes how choosing to embrace their trans identity was about choosing their own happiness. The scene also provides multiple options to describe their transition, reflecting the way that some of us struggle with coming out more than others do.

The fact that conversations with Taash are where most of your options to talk about gender arise feels both real and unintentionally funny. Most trans players can probably relate to how conversations about gender with the only other trans person in the room feel meaningful while cisgender characters all but ignore Rook mentioning their gender identity. But that reality also underscores the cracks in The Veilguard’s trans representation.

Taash’s story is all about their gender, and coming out to their mother. The coming out story is the most common story we have about trans people, probably because it’s inherently dramatic, which makes it easier for a cisgender audience to understand and empathize with. There’s nothing wrong with how The Veilguard tells the story, but the fact that it chooses such low-hanging fruit does say something about its ambitions for its trans characters. Keeping most of Rook’s options for discussing gender identity in the confines of Taash’s story also feels like the game corralling its gender feelings into one corner, rather than having them feed into every aspect of Rook’s story, as they would have in a more authentic trans portrayal.

Where The Veilguard’s trans representation does succeed is in its smart writing. Rook doesn’t always feel like a fully-actualized trans character, but when the game wants to talk about them being trans, it does a good job of it. We should continue calling on major video game studios to do better by trans players and look at The Veilguard’s approach as the least we’re willing to accept, rather than the most we can hope for. But in the meantime, you’re better off heading to the indie site Itch.io to play weird little games by and for trans people than spending your time trying to beat a dog at chess.