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Welcome to English Class!

I missed the whole Dark Souls thing.


I’ve mentioned previously that for a period in my life I sort of lost my interest in video games and have only recently come back. In my unplanned hiatus, a new “genre” of video game was born…the "Soulslike" genre; and this genre already had five entries. With four Souls games, three Dark and one Demon, plus a Bloodborne, these games were apparently all the rage! They’re already inspiring imitators and clones of different styles!


But I just, uh, kind of missed them.


I have a good friend who loves these games, and when Dark Souls Remastered was announced for the Nintendo Switch, he assigned me homework. I could no longer blame consoles I didn’t own or janky PC ports. Now was the time for me to finally play my first Souls game.


I knew two things about Dark Souls going in: the lore was going to be vague and bosses were going to be hard. I wasn’t prepared for how vague and hard either of things were going to be, respectively. I woke up in the Undead Asylum and began creating my character. With a lack of understanding of the path ahead of me, I stupidly did what I could to create a stealth build. I say “stupidly” because if you have any understanding of this game, you know that there is no such thing as stealth.


Poorly-leveled and full of naiveté, I started my quest.


The first portion of the game, the Undead Asylum, does a good job forcing you to learn the controls. It doesn’t teach you them, it just forces you to learn them. Prepared I was for the famous “dodge-roll,” and I actually managed to slay the Asylum Demon with relative ease. Okay, maybe these games weren’t that hard after all. I left the Asylum and found myself at Firelink Shrine, the de facto “hub” of the game. After an ominous warning from a kindly knight, I entered the Undead Burg and the appeal of the game hit me instantly.



For those unfamiliar, Dark Souls has a unique death mechanic…one that’s even baked into the lore. You are an Undead…a cursed man or woman who cannot truly die. When death claims you, you reawaken at bonfire (the save stations of the game). Throughout the game you’ll acquire “souls,” a reward for slaying enemies. These souls are precious, as you use them both as currency and to level up your stats. When you die, all of your souls are left on the map at your point of death. When you reawaken at the bonfire, you have one chance to make it back to your dropped souls and pick them up. If you die again on your way to those souls, they are lost forever.


It's a great mechanic that can be frustrating at first, but ultimately adds tension and purpose to everything you do. It made my trek up to the Undead Parish incredibly exciting. Sure, there was some initial grinding as I re-calibrated my stats to fit a build that actually makes sense, but it wasn’t wasted time. I practiced my parries and got familiar with the different attacks and items at my disposal.


After slaying the Taurus Demon with relative ease, I spent the next day having the time of my life in the Parish. I loved the demanding nature of learning new enemies, how to approach group fights, and improving in my strategies. I was dying less frequently, I didn’t need to heal as often, and I was getting the hang of things. That same day, I finally worked my way up to the first real boss fight: The Bell Gargoyles.


These guys were tough. This is the difficulty I expected. Between their intimidating size and dangerous range, I was at a loss for what to do. I eventually summoned the help of everyone’s favorite sun-worshipper, Solaire of Astora, to lend me a hand. Seeing an AI in combat was helpful, as I learned a bit more about my potential moveset, and after a few more tries, the foes were vanquished.


This was the pattern over the next month or so. I’d explore a new area, encounter a new boss, struggle, and overcome. There were areas that I loved (Blighttown, believe it or not, and Sen’s Fortress) and areas I found somewhat boring (The Depths). While I worked through the game, my co-worker ended up returning his copy. He couldn’t beat the Taurus Demon and, after hearing my tales of victory and defeat (mostly defeat), he decided it wasn’t worth it.


But I would overcome.


The thrill of the game continued as I entered the absolutely gorgeous Anor Londo. The majestic sun-drenched cathedral was everything I was promised it would be. The enemies were harder, the world more engrossing, and the challenges were ever-present. Save for a few assholes on a ledge with bows and arrows, I loved my time in Anor Londo. And, perhaps to your surprise, that love didn’t fade when I met the infamous Dragonslayer Ornstein and Executioner Smough.



Fighting two bosses at once, both with wildly varying movesets, was the hardest, and fairest, challenge yet. I was learning balance and priorities. It was risk vs. reward…fight the easy guy first so you can focus on the hard guy second, or kill the hard guy first so you’ll only have to deal with the easy guy when you’re battle weary. Ornstein and Smough were difficult bosses, but they were enjoyable. Once they were slain, I met the King’s very own daughter, Gwynevere. I was granted new abilities and my next path was laid before me. I knew what I had to do to beat the game!


It was at this point also, however, that the game completely fell apart.


My task was to travel to four different corners of the map to slay the keepers of the four Lord Souls. I could do this in any order I wanted; I just had to do it. Non-linearity is my jam! I should love this, right? Much to my chagrin, three of the four areas I needed to explore felt incredibly shoddily assembled (with The Duke’s Archives being the exception). Was I playing the game the wrong, or were these areas really that bad? Previous bosses Copy+Pasted into the Demon Ruins? Areas of just…black nothingness? What was going on?


In the time since, I’ve read stories of rushed development and budgetary limitations. I don’t know exactly what caused the back half of this game to go south, but south it went. These issues are more common, I would imagine, that developers like to admit, so I won’t sit here and feign shock at the realities of the industry’s pressures. However, none of that can change the fact that game became fundamentally less fun.


But I would overcome.


Why though? Why keep playing? The game wasn’t fun anymore. Was it just to say I did it? Was it just so no one could judge me in the way that I may or may not have secretly judged my co-worker? No, I kept playing because it was my homework.


We’ve all read our fair share of books in English class. There were books we liked (To Kill a Mockingbird, Animal Farm) and books we didn’t (Jane Eyre, MacBeth). The books we love, though, the ones that we go back to on rainy days and recommend to friends…those are never the ones we read in school. The ones we read in school we only “liked” and we could only ever “like” them because, well, they were homework. Something becomes a lot less fun once you have to do it.


Steve, if you’re reading this, I don’t blame you. I’m not saying you ruined Dark Souls by assigning it to me as homework. Rest assured, I’m not putting this one on you.


For me, it was deflated by its own word of mouth. Dark Souls was, by time I got around to it, an institution. There were hours and hours of lore explanations on YouTube, stat and weapon challenges, memes, and videos of people beating the game using a Guitar Hero controller. “Git gud” had been quickly seized and used by the gatekeepers of the community to ensure that everyone earned their ranks in the fandom. The world had made up its mind about Dark Souls.


As the game slowly fell apart and became less fun, I felt even more compelled to move forward. I needed understand. Why wasn't I seeing this as the gem that everyone says it is?


Dark Souls was released eight years ago. Upon release, it was kind of its own beast. Sure, it had a leveling-up system, but it wasn’t an RPG per se. Yes, the world was twisting and interconnected, but it wasn’t a Metroidvania per se. Yeah, you hacked and slashed, but it wasn’t a hack-and-slash per se. It was a weird hybrid of a few different things, and you just had to pick up for yourself to understand. Gamers across platforms and continents all played together, learned together, and won together. Fans all loved their experience of venturing to the Kiln of the First Flame and, unsurprisingly, Dark Souls became an instant classic.


But I wasn’t there for it.



Upon your arrival to English class, you get assigned a book. A classic book. Your teacher loves this book and teaches you its brilliance. Critics praise this book for its rich text and transcendent nature. Academics hold this book up as a fundamental pillar of both history and literature.


But for you, its work. It’s something that you’re told is great, but of course you weren’t there for that initial analysis. With every page you turn, you spend time looking for the genius, instead of taking in the novel in your own way. You finish a chapter and think “What am I missing?” You log on to SparkNotes and see summaries and interpretations and comments all breaking down this work that you feel pressured to understand…because you have to.


I certainly didn’t hate Dark Souls. I very much enjoyed my time in the first half of the game, and though the second half of the game was tedious, I was ultimately glad I finished it, much in the same way I didn’t hate The Great Gatsby in 10th grade. Had I come across the game, or that book, on my own terms and consumed it at my own pace, I may have liked it more. I may have even loved it. But the jury had turned in their verdict long before I showed up, and it certainly colored my impression of the game.


I can still see why Dark Souls is influential. It does a lot of incredibly unique things. It approaches lore in a way that really jives with my brain. The visual design of the world is both haunting and beautiful. But I walked away feeling like it was a blueprint. A foundation upon which a new “genre” could be built. It didn’t feel complete to me. It didn’t feel like the masterpiece I had been promised.


In fact, I wish I hadn’t been “promised” anything.



 


Post Script


I mentioned that I enjoyed the approach to lore that Dark Souls takes. Much like Metroid Prime and its ilk, this game features a story that has largely already occurred. You find hints through your travels in the kingdom of Lordran about its history, but nothing concise or concrete. While I won’t attempt to write an official Dark Souls history book down here, I would like to recount my favorite bit of storytelling in the game.


At some point in the game, usually towards the beginning, you must travel to the Tomb of Artorias. Buried with Artorias is a ring that you need in order to traverse The Abyss. In the room with you is Sif, a giant wolf. Sif was Artorias’s loyal pet. It’s his sworn duty to protect the Tomb. When you walk into the area, Sif jumps from behind the Tomb, picks up a sword in his mouth, and fights you. You must kill Sif to get to the Tomb.


At a different point in the game, usually towards the end, you can travel back in time to when Artorias is still alive. He’s in rough shape, as his arm is broken and madness has taken hold of him. He tries to fight you, and you kill him. This means that Sif, at this point a puppy, is alone. You can rescue puppy Sif and he’ll assist you in a fight against a big giant monster named Manus. It’s the hardest fight in the game and Sif make it manageable. It fun to see the wolf from earlier in the game fighting alongside of you!


Here's the thing, though. If you do those in the reverse order, meaning you fight Manus alongside puppy Sif and then go to rob the Tomb of Artorias, things go…a little differently. Now, Sif will jump out to greet you! He’ll jump on your chest like a happy boy, only to start whimpering and howling as realizes why you're there. You're going to rob the tomb he has to protect. He begrudgingly picks up his sword, making a choice between upholding his duty or welcoming back an old friend. Though he chooses duty, he’s very sad about it, and its heartbreaking.


F**k you, Hidetaka Miyazaki.

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