Drowning in Dark Souls

Last time, on Deadly Dreaming Dark Souls, I slew a dragon! Which, I know, I’ve done before, but this time, the dragon was a real dick! And yeah, the whole fate of the world destiny of the Best Chosen One moved along too, but really, someone who deserved it got what was coming to them. And really, isn’t that what the holidays are all about?

Killing Seath left me with one problem though. I don’t have any direction now. Seath had been set up as a problem a while ago, thanks to a conversation with the Firekeeper Knightess. Now, all I’ve got are a few places I haven’t checked out yet, and nothing really pushing me to one or another. I’ve got no drive, no motivation.

Well, that’s what adventuring is all about, right? Going to a place to see new sights, rather than merely to save every living thing? That’s what I’ll do. I’m an adventurer now!

I pick my next pummeling ground pretty much at random. Off the top of my head, there are four new locations I have open to me now. Two of them seem to lead underground, so we’re going to put those off as long as we’re able. I’m just tired of underground levels. Of the remaining two, I go for this one based on nothing more than a vague impulse.

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To the edge of Firelink Shrine, beyond Anastacia’s cage, there’s a stairway leading down.

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The stairway leads to an elevator, which takes me even further down.

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The elevator lets me off in this drab, ruined city. See this? Ruins are good. I think the adventurer life may work out for me after all. There are a few corpses around, and I’m able to pick up some souls from them.

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Not all the corpses are quite dead yet. The area’s littered with these zombies. Seems they haven’t entirely gone hollow yet, as they don’t attack me on sight. Instead, they just keep doing what they’re doing, which in this case seems to be going mad against the walls. I wonder about them. There’s a lot hanging out at this entrance. Who were they? Residents of this city before it fell? Wannabe Chosen Ones who drifted down here as their sanity fled them when it became apparent they weren’t as cool as I am?

I kill this one. I kill it because I don’t trust these former people to hold onto their sanity long enough for me to turn my back on them. It occurs to me that the old me, the me when I started this journey, wouldn’t have bothered a relatively innocent victim of the undead curse, would have just left them to live out whatever life we could be considered to have left. It also occurs to me that I don’t really care. I’ve died too many times to be concerned with the waning lives of others.

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