Should i leave carver behind

As for Carver vs Bethany I choose Carver, but mostly because I adore mages. However even if I could decide, despite class, I may end up choosing Carver anyway. I like Carver's personal quest and the gravitas it carries. I like how much growth he goes thru over the game. I like being there for him and including him in decisions to help grow his persona.

With Bethany she's pretty much a complete persona from the start, a little upset she's always in hiding, but otherwise pretty set. Another thing I like is how much more heroic and sense Bethany's stance in Lothering is against the Orge over Carver's stance.

Bethany realizes the ogre is going to charge, she says a prayer and readies her magic while holding her ground. Whereas Carver blindly charges in, seemingly less to defend himself and his mother and more to be more brave than Hawke. I get this feel because of how stupid his rush is. So yeah, I have always felt Bethany dies heroically, while Carver dies stupidly.

Carver seems better written than Bethany. Gaikang talk , April 3, UTC. When does Bethany rejoin me if I have her in the gray wardens? Just before the final battle? I met up with her as I fled the docks during the qunari hell and she was cold. In my opinion, Carver is better off with the Templars because: You are playing as a mage.

The rivalry with Carver is very much high, considering you are against the Templars and he is sympathetic to it. If Carver joins the Templars, it would be a badass rivalry between two brothers, on the fighting sides. Wouldn't it? Warden Carver for sure.

And as tough as it was the Warden Friendship route is the most fulfilling. I can see where Carver is coming from even though his bitching gets grating after a while. But a little Darkspawn blood will fix that right up. All the dude wants is purpose, something he couldn't strive for early on because of his family.

Going the Templar route just seems like a bitch move and the reason for it is petty. He fits better with GWs. Even it wasn't his choice it's what he wants to do and the sacrifice involved matures him for the better. Depends on the storyline you want Hawke to take. My Mage Hawkes usually take Carver to the deep roads and make him a Grey Warden, and the fuckwit usually respects Hawke for it; here's the key, Carver doesn't like Mages, they have defined his life, and that life has been one of hiding, whereas the Wardens don't hide, they fight, lots, and they don't take guff from anyone.

However, I often use Bethany differently in my Hawke storyline; and why shouldn't I, she's soft, caring, worships the ground Hawke walks upon. Does one truly wish to throw such a lamb to the fires of battle for the rest of her life? Into someone else' protection, which you have no control over? I usually leave her at home to get caught, but if I want an utterly devastated and traumatized Hawke, I take her into the Deep Roads.

If you do not agree with this decision however, it is still possible to bring them back to your party via save game editing. The tools needed are provided via BioWare's site.

For detailed instructions, watch: www. The only way to kill your sibling at that point in the game is to bring them with you without Anders. Bringing Anders or leaving them behind results in them showing up later in the game, dealing with whatever situation they are in. Unfortunately, they don't ever join back up with you as a full companion after Act I. User Info: paco Sign Up for free or Log In if you already have an account to be able to ask and answer questions. Question Status what happens if you bring isabella and anders to the deep roads?

Without question, he expects his ideal reader to catch the rhetorical significance of that fixed and meaningful structure.

Ambiguity, at least on the symbolic level, is resolved. Both stories are about how a man will respond when his home, indeed his life, is under attack. The two men react in very different ways: one story ends in stasis, the other in at least potentially meaningful action. Without a meaningful home to surround them, the domestic items arranged in the driveway lose their significance and disintegrate. Certainly its plot details — a photographer who has no hands, a narrator who ends up on the roof throwing rocks at nameless targets for no apparent reason — are the stuff of surrealism.

The narrator is desperately trying to make a connection with the photographer because both men are the casualties of absent families. For the details to be concrete and convey meaning, the language must be accurate and precisely given.

The words can be so precise they may even sound flat, but they can still carry; if used right, they can hit all the notes. I tried to steer away from…stories where the words seemed to slide into one another and blur the meaning.

There was an opening up when I wrote the story. The distinction is that characterization and plots are expanded, while Carver, on occasion, allows himself an optimistic vision that seemed impossible fo him to express earlier. Theme, as well as depth of characterization, may be changing between his earlier and later work, but Carver has always been willing to charge into a story symbolic lance at the ready. The bath is signaled as a powerful healing symbol in a story about accidental injury and the limits of healing power.

In this story, neither the husband nor Ann Weiss experiences the symbolic regeneration of a completed bath. When Ann Weiss comes home later, her bath is delayed by yet another call — this one as cryptic as the ones which have interrupted her husband.

She never bathes, and the story ends in the midst of yet another seemingly meaningless cycle of interruption and despair But, of course, it does matter. The very alienation and misunderstanding that occasions the telephone calls will deny Ann Weiss and her husband the ritual healing that they most need.

Here, a hit-and-run driver has been added to the plot, creating yet a third possibility for the source of the telephone messages. In his perceptive analysis, Bugeja wonders why the Weiss family never contacts the police about the calls they believe might emanate from a hit-and-run driver The answer, of course, is that Carver is after far more here than a police investigation might provide, and thus it does not suit his purpose to burden his story with realistic detail.

As in other Carver stories — both early and later, both spare and expansive — the amount and quality of symbolic light is significant. Neither, however, quite pins down the problem. Of the two, Bugeja seems to sense the problem without finding its cause. On the contrary, the story succeeds because Carver, for once, allows his characters to live and breathe, to grope toward hesitant recovery rather than bulldozing them toward Everyman status with tightly managed symbols.

The issue is not how much detail is rendered, but how tightly it is managed. Continuing the propensity for tightly managed symbolism that has typified his fiction from its beginnings, Carver is interested in Joey, not as a character, but as a representation of desire.

What really happens is that as Carver has expanded the scope and detail of his narrative, he has begun to raise expectations in his readers that can no longer be satisfied with the overt management of symbolic meaning that had characterized the stories of the What We Talk About When We Talk About Love collection.

There, much of the symbolic manipulation had seemed stark and effective. We wonder who will tickle the ugly baby now that Joey is gone. Is it really possible for the narrator, after a life-time of symbolic blindness, to be endowed with healing vision in a single night? Is such epiphany best generated by a televised image, even a televised image redeemed by human touch?