Dragging On in Dark Souls

Last time, on Dying Slowly in Dark Souls, I learned that I had been underestimating just how bad this undead life can be.  Sure, when you die over and over again, yet always come back almost good as new, it’s easy to forget the sting that death carries.  It’s easy to forget that sometimes it’s final.  And yet, just like Laurentius of Great Swamp before, death has taken one more good man.  My friend, Solaire of Astora, gone hollow, or at least driven mad by that maggot that had attached to his head, and put down by my hand.  And he won’t be coming back.

I feel a bit hollow.  No, not that kind of hollow.  At least, not much.  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.  Mourn?  Rage against the Lords?  Rail against the undead curse that allowed this to happen?  None of those would help.  Instead, as always, I can only move on.  Just one foot in front of the other.  My feelings don’t matter, I need to keep moving forward.  I can grieve when there’s time.  For now, much as I hate it, there’s some things I need to take care of.

I owe that much to Solaire, at least.

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We’ve just got a few places left to explore in Lost Izalith.  The first on our plate is this obvious trap we had noticed but largely ignored last entry.  Now, I am a lot of things.  A warrior.  A genius.  A renowned sexpot.  One thing that’s not on this list?  A chump.  It’s obvious, just from checking out the lay of the floor in that room, that the ground is going to give way as soon as I put pressure on it.  I don’t know a way of going through without triggering that trap, though.  Hedging my bets, I stick to one side as I move forward, figuring that this will be less of a fall than walking in the center.  Specifically, I stay to the left.  Because it’s closer to the bait.  Which I know is counter-intuitive, but come on, treasure!

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Sure enough, the ground gives way as soon as I step on it.  I fall.  For like a foot.  I had been walking directly over this root, which catches me, saving me from certain death.  For once, my greed saved me.  Of course, the bait disappears at this point, but I can’t complain.

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I head down the root, which winds quite a bit before reaching the bottom.  There are these monsters below me.  I am really, really glad I didn’t fall in there.  What kind of beast eats with the crown of its head?

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Hey, look at that.  It’s Sieg…. Something.  Siegmeyer, or Sieglinde, I can’t tell.  They both have those child-bearing hips.  Runs in the family, I guess.  Either way, I am really, really glad to see a friendly face.  I could really use that, right now.  I hop off the root when it nears the floor of this ruin, then make my way around to talk to them.

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One of those tentacle pudding monsters tries to cut me off.  I slip past him then cut him down easily enough. Continue reading

The Despair of Dark Souls

Last time, on this thing, we killed a fat wad of fire and a gigantic gross-out bug, then gained the ability to walk on liquid rock.  Unfortunately, we’re still stuck underground for a while yet.  I hate being underground.  Have I mentioned that?  Sewer levels, caves, volcanoes, none of it’s really for me.  I think I’m starting to understand why Lordran’s so full of those sun-worshippers.

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Speaking of sun-worshippers, hey look!  It’s Solaire!  He’s my best friend!  Did I mention he’s my best friend?  Because he totally is.

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Unfortunately, he hasn’t perked up any since we saw him in the Undead Burg.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Dude doesn’t even notice that I’m here, so absorbed is he in his sorrows.  I try to offer some comfort, some support, but I don’t think any of it’s getting through.  He just keeps repeating the same thing.  I’ve got some business to take care of here, so eventually, I have to break off and press onwards, but for whatever it’s worth, I assure him that I’ll be back to check up on him once it’s all over.  I don’t like the state he’s in right now.

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Ahead of me is a veritable sea of magma.  No way through without getting my feet wet.  Luckily, I picked up this ring from the oogy Centipede Demon that supposedly will let me just walk right across it.  I’m a little hesitant about it.  Like, what if I don’t stay afloat?  I know I’m effectively immortal, but drowning in red-hot magma seems to me a particularly unpleasant way to die.  I’m not sure if I could hang on to my sanity in that event.

Well, what good has my sanity ever done me, anyway?  I slip the ring on, and dart across towards the next bit of stone poking out.  Luckily, my footing holds.  And the ring works.  It’s not exactly comfortable, but the burn is lowered from immediately cauterizing me from the waist down to biting into a way too hot hunk of meat.  I can’t stay in it indefinitely, but it holds of the burn long enough for me to get where I’m going.

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And where I’m going is Lost Izalith, apparently.  Guess I’m on the right trail of the Witches of Izalith.  Although why they would live below what was assumedly a home for demons is anyone’s guess. Continue reading