Reference
i'm probably going to go long on this as i always do but honestly it's hard to say anything that hasn't already been said about dark souls. it's a foundational text for the seventh generation of consoles and onward. even more so than demon's souls (the foundational text for this game) dark souls blend of tough as nails combat, floaty online functionality blurring the lines between single and multiplayer, an atmospheric and melancholic world, and innovative ways of storytelling only possible through the interactive medium just feel like the basis for some of the best games of the last ten years (and some of the worst dark souls clones).having played demon's souls before this i knew somewhat what to expect, and breezed through the first few areas and bosses without much trouble, but it was clear early on the way that this game prioritizes a more aggressive play style than the previous entry. no longer can the player hide in the back, chomping on grass to heal constantly while shooting a boss with various magic abilities. while there is a lot here in terms of the sorcery and pyromancy, i found for my first run through a melee build just made more sense when taking into account the limited heals and limited spell uses between bonfires. this of course forces the player to get more up close and personal with their foes, rhythmically blocking and dodging to avoid hits, finding the perfect moment to get a big hit, maneuvering to get a better opening, it's a constant push and pull that's endless fascinating to explore and learn, even when at times it can get infuriating (i'm looking at you enemies in the early game that constantly hold your shield up for way longer than i want to wait).the boss designs (referring to game design rather than aesthetic) are also just very captivating, each one posing their own unique challenge with some feeling very simple (iron golem and pinwheel both felt particularly easy), some nail bitingly tense (o&s and gwyn were both infuriating at times until i got the handle on it), and some even just feeling like puzzles to solve (seath the scaleless and the bed of chaos both fit this bill i think). the one that felt to me like the perfect dark souls both though, the platonic ideal mixing combat efficiency, pattern recognition, and narrative told through gameplay, was the great grey wolf sif. outside of ornstein and smough, sif was easily the boss that provided me with the greatest challenge, finally getting the timing right on rolling through his slashes and attacking from underneath feels unbelievable, and it's a high you'll ride until the gutpunch of the end of the fight. watching the once formidable foe barely able to stand, staggering as you rain down your last few hits, you realize your pursuit can never be all good, the bodies you leave in your wake are not merely evil, a narrative device that shows the games thematic ideas through its gameplay (much like ostrava in demon's souls)this melancholic idea permeates the game, dilapidated kingdoms, murky underbellies, fog shrouding everything around you, a world on the brink of total destruction, your own odds seemingly insurmountable and your own quest just one of many failures in this ruined world. so much of the games themes are just shown through the tone the world sets, the brutal difficulty at times just fitting the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that is presented to you. one specific narrative moment i wanted to point out was anastacia of astora's story, the enfeebled fire keeper you meet in firelink shrine. from the beginning she is unable to speak, merely there to reinforce your estus flask should you have a fire keeper's soul with you, and she stays behind bars so you are unable to truly interact with her. later you meet lautrec, a knight you've rescued who seems to have an air of deviousness around him, and he returns to firelink shrine. after ringing both the bells, you return to firelink to find the fire has been extinguished and anastacia killed. when searching her soul, you find an item that allows you to exact revenge upon the person that killed her. if you use the item at a certain point in anor londo, you find it was lautrec that murdered her and upon defeating him you are given the fire keeper's soul. upon returning to firelink, you can resurrect anastacia and finally you hear her speak for the first time. though it's clear that words do not come naturally to her and she finds it profane to utter them, the ability to bring a little bit of life back to this dead world feels truly remarkable and moving, and it's a quest that can be entirely missed if the player is not paying attention. for me in these fromsoft games, its these little moments that mean more than almost any boss battle, and it's what truly makes them so interesting as games to me.
It's an interesting thing to be writing about Dark Souls for the first time some fourteen years after its initial release. What more can be written at this point? Actual books have been written about it. It's a genre-defining masterpiece; its influence felt not only as a foundation of the burgeoning Souls-like genre but across the medium of video games as a whole.
Out of everything that Dark Souls does right, the world design is the most notable. The sense of scale and clever interconnectedness of the areas is unlike anything I've experienced in a game. With the exception of the Asylum and the Painted World, everything is physically, naturally connected. Lack of fast travel in the first half of the game gives you time to appreciate the world and have your mind blown by finding a new route to a familiar place. Fighting your way up to the Altar of Sunlight and looking down on everything you just conquered with so much left ahead, or seeing both Lost Izalith and Ash Lake while pushing through the punishing darkness of Tomb of the Giants both bring an intense sense of place and purpose in each corner of this dying world.
It's easy to miss much of the charm of this world, for it is punishing and cruel from the very first moment, but this is a game that rewards perseverance. In most games, death is a major setback. Here, death can sometimes be a setback—and we've all lost a huge number of souls at one point or another—but death is also a necessary part of the game (sometimes literally). It is an important teacher, an indication that you missed something: a dodge, a block, an opening, a clue. Everything has a purpose, every item description a shred of esoteric lore breathing more life into Lordran and its denizens for those who would listen. And listen, you should.
Stay safe friend, and don’t you dare go hollow.
Critics like to claim that the last stretch of the game feels unfinished and rushed, but I like to think that it is a fittin
- user hostile, but once you peel back the layers it's incredible
- Challenging, awe-inspiring boss fights
- Esoteric, hidden lore
- Dripping with atmosphere
Stay safe, friend, and don't you dare go hollow.
Final.
Post to: Backloggd, Steam, website (I should come up with a better name for my blog…)
It feels almost foolish attempting to write about Dark Souls for the first time some fourteen years after its release. What is left to say? Actual tomes have been written, their words pressed into the pulp of long-dead trees and preserved for the ages. Countless games have tried to borrow its soul. It is a monument now, a foundation stone buried deep beneath the landscape of modern gaming, its echoes felt everywhere. Soulslike.
Of all its many triumphs, it is the world—Lordran—that stands the tallest. A place of crumbling ruins and forsaken gods, where time itself seems to rot. With few exceptions, every path is bound to another, every distant bell tower and fetid swamp stitched into a single, decaying whole. In the early hours, there is no fast travel, and there should not be. You must walk the dying earth yourself, bleed into its soil, and learn its sorrow by heart. When a door swings open onto a familiar place you thought forever lost, it is not merely convenience—it is revelation. Everything is connected.
To stand at the Altar of Sunlight, gazing out across all that you have endured, with more yet ahead, or to glimpse the broken ruins of Lost Izalith and the primordial roots of Ash Lake while stumbling through the pitch black of the Tomb of the Giants—these are moments that anchor you to this world. That remind you of what is at stake. Of how small and desperately lost you are.
It is easy to miss the beauty of Lordran, for it wears a mask of cruelty. It demands your suffering, your patience, your will. In other games, death is a punishment. In Dark Souls, death is doctrine. It is the first lesson, and the last. A missed dodge. A broken shield. A warning unheeded. Every failure is a voice calling back to you from the dark. Every shard of lore, every withered sword or broken ring, weaves another thread into a story written in blood and ash.
Listen, if you can.
Stay safe, friend—and don't you dare go hollow.