Catching up with the Souls

 

You know, I actually wasn't all that invested in going out and playing 'Shadow of the Erdtree' at launch. I respect the heck out of Elden Ring, and consider it to be the most perfect form of the Dark Souls franchise- but I just didn't think I had the spare time to send it's way. And then I just kind of started playing Elden Ring again... which then made me realise that if I was going to access the DLC I'd have to get far enough in to beat Mogh, but I last stopped playing literally at 'The First Step' Bonfire on New Game +... so I just kind of grinded several hours and got to Mogh... and then I figured I might as well grind for some more hours to get to Radahn- as for some incomprehensible reason Miyazaki says we have to off him too! (I'm guessing the entrance to the underside realm is covered up before the Meteor shower.) And at that point I thought 'What am I doing- I might as well just get the DLC.'

But we have a few more days until the Shadow drops so what could I do to kill time in the interim? EVERYTHING ELSE! Everything I had put off doing in the Dark Souls franchise for so very long, would become my immediate goal there and then. That meant finally coming around to complete the DLCs for Dark Souls 3- in which are contained some of the franchise's most well regarded boss encounters, and I even finally bit the bullet on the Dark Souls Remaster after seeing that it would be cheaper to just splurge on the remaster than it would be to buy the DLC for the original. If that would even be possible- I don't think they sell XBOX 360 DLC anymore... Who knows, I don't- I'm getting to play the game at a resolution that doesn't make my eyes bleed and real honest-to-goodness frames! (I wonder if Gwyn's song actually plays and isn't slyly stuffed with miniscule micro-stutters like it does in the 360 version!)

Of course the biggest port of call was the Dark Souls 3 DLC- because anyone with even the most-passing sliver of interest in the community will know there's only two things that people never shut up about- Bloodborne being hard-stuck on the PS3, and Slave Knight Gael: the final boss of the latter DLC. Slave Knight Gael had amassed a genuinely mythical status under my perception of the Dark Souls franchise through sheer merit of his name becoming evoked in literally every single conversation about bosses under the FromSoft brand. "Oh, that boss was too hard for you? You'd never survive against Gael!" "Malenia was tough, but in a frustrating way- not the sheer perfect way that Gael was!" "Yeah, Soul of Cinder might have been the single most perfectly dignified personification of ever major theme that has run throughout the Souls franchise and thus soared as a final boss... But Gael is still the final boss in my eyes. Also did you know that Pontiff Sulyvahn was going to be the final boss?" (YES, EVERYONE KNOWS!) 

But does Gael live up to the hype? Well, I ain't answering that because I played Ashes of Ariandel first! A DLC which did the impossible and made the painted world not a nightmare to traverse. The idea of the other-universe known as 'the painted world' always fascinated me regarding how roughly it jars against the direction everything else seems to be heading. All the franchise emboldens the significance of impermanence and the dignity in death- whereas there is a world perfectly preserved in paint that houses creatures sequestered within. Then there's the little confusion about the naming convention. The Painting of Aramis from Dark Souls 1 is, it turns out, at least the base coat for the painting of Ariandel- as evidence by the fact that Pricilla's old tower is hidden away in the DLC. Both paintings are named after their creator's apparently, although Aramis is never seen residing in his painting, or at all- and Father Ariandel is a refugee in the painting, almost as though he himself is the subject. And then, of course, at the end of the DLC you are asked for your name so that the next painting can be named after you- despite the fact that totally spits in the face of the naming convention, although I guess that will come around in the Age of Dark so everyone will be a bit too preoccupied coming to terms with their totally rewritten reality to start penning angry letters to the painting-planning-council.

And the DLC itself? Fine. I've never liked how FromSoftware handles their snow sections- I think their swamps are always delightfully imbued with active mechanics that make them challenging but fun to conquer- whereas snow is consistently just a pain! Elden Ring's Consecrated Snowfields? Can't see a bloody thing! Dark Souls 2's Frigid Outskirts? Constantly spawning Unicorns- one of only two locations in the entire franchise to feature endless spawning mobs! And Ariandel is just stuffed silly with that most annoying breed of bad guy you can't help but hate! At the very least we get to see the themes of wider Dark Souls finally seep into the painted world as the concept of 'Rot' is introduced. A distorting organisim that consumes everything if the picture is not burned away and remade- presumably explaining the name change. Which of course births one of my favourite lines- voiced by a literally no-name NPC- "When the world rots we set it afire, for the sake of the next world. It's one of the few things we do right, unlike those fools on the outside!" (slightly related note: how does mister 'no-name wierdo' know about the goings-on outside of the reality he was born and spent his entire life within?)

But the real draw of these DLC are the bosses- and Sister Friede was an experience to say the least! Bare in mind that I was on New Game + 3 so already wasn't going to be having a fun time- Good lord did I not expect the mockery that woman made of me! Pulling my main girl Pricillia's invisibility move right off her corpse and doing it better- I'm ashamed to admit how many times I got manhandled by her until I figured out that gimmick. But even then the gimmick alone was just a prelude to the first three stage boss fight in the game- with three entire healthbars, mind you- not just three states of attack tactics! The fight was a thrill but so frustrating to figure out. Can't exactly call it a favourite of mine, I have to admit.

Which brings me to 'The Ringed City'. I'll cut to the chase- I liked the DLC. It reminded me more of the actual explorative adventures of Dark Souls 2's DLC rather than just 'an extended prelude to the boss' like Ashes of Ariandel felt like at times. But Slave Knight Gael is the big attraction. And after beating the man- I can understand the appeal. Gael is a supremely fun and fair fight that really doesn't hold any muck, no gimmicks, no hidden health bars out the ass- just an out-and-out slug fest against a worthy component. So many of Souls bosses from yore hold that one screw you move seemingly designed only to rack up player deaths rather than to add to the battle itself. Gael didn't feel like that, but he wasn't a push-over either. He's an example of the best of the series, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the likes of The Soul of Cinder and Sword Saint Isshin. Which is probably why FromSoft made up for it by giving us Darkeater Midir. Screw Midir- screw his eyewatering high health bar- screw his one-shot laser attacks his farts out in his second act. I'm happy I gave on playing nice and chocked the bugger to death on his own overinflated healthbar. I know people say Pestilent Mist is not an easy kill like it once was at launch- but I'll just take the compliment if that's the case!

Dark Souls 3 really does feel like a whole different ball game with it's DLC- which I guess has always been the way that FromSoftware has handled their additional content. Chucking giant chunks of new difficulty ceilings at those kind enough to spend more money is really seeing what the community seems to be wanting and meeting them kindly, with a giant middle finger to the face and a loving clap around the cheeks. As a lifelong masochist who's dream is to torture enough self respect into himself that he one day grows confident enough to genuinely experience 'imposter syndrome': (What a luxury!) I love the carnage. Now I just need to actually finish the Dark Souls 1 DLC and I'll have officially experienced all of Dark Souls- putting the lid on a world I wasn't quiet ready to finish when I reached the final moments of Dark Souls 3- but which I actually feel ready for today. However it's pretty unlikely I'll beat all of Dark Souls Remastered before Shadow of the Erdtree releases- so don't expect a follow-up soon.

Artistic Intent versus Mechanical Cohesion

Thrills of Frills?

The game, the game; the beautiful game! Often has it been said that at the end of the day, when the chips have landed and the goose is cooked, within the world of games there is no more senior a position than gameplay. The divine right of developers to directors to publishers to shareholders all rely on the power of strong core gameplay to trickle down it's bounteous rewards, pretty much in that order of beneficiary. But what of the all important king of creativity across the entertainment medium? Artistic Intent? Why, the artistry of creation is the lifeblood behind it, and failing to really hone in on that beating heart of intent can spell the difference between Apple TV's 'Luck' film and Dreamwork's 'Puss in Boots: The Last Wish.' One treads the well-worn steps of successful previous properties, the other dances with it's heart in it's hand throwing a twirling fiesta in the name of love, life and spectacular animation. I don't... you don't need me to say which is which- right?

When it comes to the world of game design, the question of where artistic intention ends and mechanical cohesion begins is not an easy one to answer. I know because I literally spent last week trying to get an answer out of actual game designers from more personal studios to conglomerates like Sony, and the resounding response was a middling "it's a balancing act". Because at the end of the day, sure, if you can make a game that is true to it's artistic principals and the intent of the narrative themes alongside being robust, intuitive and fun; then well done, you've reached peak perfection as a video game designer. But... well... that's not going to be where the majority of people land, now is it? Perfection is a slithering writhing snake weaved of the finest sand, that squeezes through the cracks in your fingers the tighter you grasp. So you end up doing the best that you can. Compromise. Balance.

But I don't like that answer. It seems... incomplete to me. Of course, there's no way to write a perfect consensus that will cover every scenario dictating times when the art needs to peel away for the good of the mechanics- but there's got to be a better consensus then 'I'll go with my gut'. I always hated the games that attempted to try and rationalise the concept of respawning by somehow working that into the narrative. Bioshock's resurrection chambers make any character's death patently meaningless thus undermining the sanctity of death as a narrative device, and Borderlands' New-U-Station attempts to be both an in-game joke and apparently non-canonical mechanics system. The latter of which literally clashes between the teams who make the games where no one can seem to decided whether or not they need to bend over backwards to explain why Handsome Jack deregistered himself the network (because there was an off-hand joke in the first game about it causing irreversible infertility and Jack wanted a daughter) or just ignore the fact that Scooter definitely would have been linked up to one. (You know, considering his entire 'Catch-a-ride' enterprise functioned out of various New-U-Stations!)

Is the solution just to ignore the collision? I've always looked at that to be a sacrifice in immersion. Sure, maybe if you have a protagonist who doesn't speak that can allow the player's voice to inhabit the hero's head, but when your player stands silently in the middle of 4 way conversations that omission can start to grate at the senses. Or even a little thing like how in Hogwarts Legacy, being a game set in school, people are constantly introducing themselves to you and simply don't expect the same in return. You have no pithy short-hand catchphrase they can call you, you're not the 'Boy who lived' or 'The Dragonborn' or 'Courier Six'; your just a student with a name that the player wrote out, thus the game can't feasibly repeat it. Perhaps these are the lesser examples of art clashing with mechanics, but the dissonance rumbles nonetheless.

As always whenever we get into diatribes about topics like this, I find myself coming back to the eclectic work of Miyazaki and his now legendary Souls series, which championed artistic intent in marriage with robust mechanics throughout most of his catalogue. There was, however, one famous instance of a clash that I can recount. The final confrontation of the final Souls game was famously changed from the difficult 'Pontiff Sulyvahn', sometimes still called the hardest boss in all of Dark Souls III, to the relatively simpler but thematically resplendent 'Soul of Cinder'. Whilst mechanically and balancing-wise there really is little doubt that Sulvahn provides the more dynamic challenge, designed specifically to ingrain a playstyle in the player that he then immediately undermines with his next phase, the narrative impact of what the Soul of Cinder would come to represent, the conjoined efforts of every souls player who ever played the games, and then of the returned Lord of Cinder himself in that iconic second phase, is irreplaceable. Artistry, in this instance, trumped mechanical soundness. 

And to take matter back to one of my own favourite games of all time, who remembers the iconic ladder scene within Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater? Itself existing within a transitional cell that moves the player from a jungle environment to the desert-like mountain tops, and as such could easily have been covered by a single cutscene- as is utilised later when Snake climbs from the underground tunnels up onto the tarmac of Groznyj Grad. Instead Hideo Kojima decided to give players a conceptually dull task of climbing the ladder in real time, with a fixed camera angle, from the bottom to the top. A task enriched only by a ghostly, acapella rendition of the title song, Snake Eater to fill the monotony. A scene that exists to offer no gameplay benefit to the player whatsoever, but simply to reinforce the artistic intent of creating a game narrative indistinguishable to the film making techniques of a James Bond movie, which would typically invoke musical overtures during transitory sequences. 

Of course, the examples I just pulled up were from auteurs for their craft, and just as leaning into your intent can be transformative to the overall experience, it can sometimes be a detriment as well. Forspoken is a game built to incur the same sort of emotions and responses as Joss Whedon written dramas. Imagine Buffy or the Avengers; that's the kind of audience the game was hoping to secure. And yet, giving up the agency and immersion in the game world to constantly have a witty and stake undermining back and forths between Frey and her talking magical Cuff drove a wedge between players and how they wanted to experience the world, making it difficult to take anything seriously in all but the most dire moments. In this way the artistic intent ended up harming the overall presentation, and such is just the most modern example from a slew of examples likewise.

When it comes to nailing that idea of balance, I think that as simple and lame as it sounds the missing ingredient is understanding. Understanding of the exact effect the decisions and changes made will have on an audience. And perhaps that understanding can come from a sudden or supreme insight of consequence, or deferred from the repeated opinions of others; but until you've reached that point of knowing what liberties can and cannot be taking without diluting the whole product, you are pretty much developing in a total vacuum with a blindfold on. I am a firm believer in the sanctity of artistic intent, but I recognise how the fanciful whims of the artists can trail off into inanity, and the other extreme can languish in a mire of obsequiousness. Balance, as ever, is a process of iteration.

Character themes; Storytelling done interesting!

Music is my weapon

I am not a music blog, that much should be pretty much apparent by now, and that likely comes a distinct lack of a music background. I mean sure, I've played a few instruments throughout the years (about 3) but never found one that I was truly serious about and likely never will. In fact, the most music exposure I've had lately has been me teaching myself how to play the keyboard during all this extra in-doors time we've been having this year. (It's fun, I can play most of 'Dearly Beloved' now, the ending always slips always from me.) But none of that makes me ineligible from enjoying and appreciating great music whenever I experience it, and how could I not? Music is everywhere! We hear it blasting out of radios in our cars or out of other peoples', blaring down on us during grocery shopping, assaulting us on every advert everywhere; and sure, most of it is so generic that we forget it within the hour, but sometimes you get a great song that can really make your day and/or elevate your current experience. Music can do that, thus as you can imagine when it comes to the way that music is used in gaming I'm always hyperaware whenever I hear something great which really hits me in a way I wasn't expecting or am inspired by.

Quite a while back you might remember me writing a piece about the forbidden love I shared with 'Dragon's Dogma' which ended with an incredibly rudimentary analysis of it's theme, which just goes to show you how much I pay attention to this stuff despite having literally no idea what in the heck I'm talking about. And gaming is such a ripe ground for music and it's potential applications that there are innumerable opportunities for me to totally embarrass myself, so that's exactly what I'm going to do today. You see, I've understood for a while now that some of the most prevalent uses for Orchestras in the modern age has been in the gaming world outside of concerts, thus gaming has been awash with increasingly more epic soundtracks throughout the years. But rather than undertaking the herculean task of reviewing OSTs, I want to take a more nuanced approach at a single aspect of video game soundtracks; the humble Character theme.

'Theme', obviously, is a term used to describe a common idea permeating through a piece of work or several, and in terms of music it's usually used to describe a piece of music which is associated with a specific event, location or character. In art they exist as an extension of the storytelling in portraying the sorts of ideas that are difficult or impossible to express through dialogue or even visual stimuli. I'm talking emotions like Joy, Sorrow, Guilt and Anger; but it can even extend further to express traits such as Innocence, Duplicity or Insanity. Music can be such a powerful tool when used effectively, as it speaks this sort of universal language that our minds just respond to without even really understanding what's going on. A skilled storyteller can use this to make the audience feel a certain way without their knowledge, setting them up for a powerful story beat or emotional send-off. In fact, I think that character themes are the most rewarding of all types of musical themes.

That's because a Character Theme needs to achieve a number of things; it needs to be elucidating, reflective and versatile, (Not all the times, admittedly) it needs to be the sort of thing that can play over several different points in the story and fit the situation, as well as be distinct enough to wrestle the attention of the audience and let them know that it's this character's turn to take the centre stage. And a powerful enough theme can exist beyond the character itself and echo as a mere memory which evokes all the emotions you once associated with them. This is the sort of thing that I live for as a lover of entertainment, and anyone who's ever picked at my Youtube music recommendations or even my plain playlist can attest to that. (I've listened to 'Stardust Crusaders' so many times it's the theme tune to my dreams now.) But as fun as it would be to break down 'Il Vento D'oro' and all the ways it's one of the greatest themes of all time, I should probably keep on brand with gaming for the time being. (We can explore The Golden Wind at a later date)

If I think back to one of the most evocative and memorable characters in gaming they are almost always synonymous with a sound, and that can either be just the sound of their voice or the theme that accompanies them. I think that one of the best examples of this could be one character who recently had her theme officially remastered, Aerith Gainsborough from Final Fantasy VII. A track that's almost as memorable as the game which spawned it, Aerith's Theme never fails to kindle fond sorrow in it's romantic yet lonesome tunes. I've always found that the disparity between the sweeping orchestra and the single instruments were really powerful in conveying the true isolation that Aerith, being one of the literal last of her kind, endures. It's a side of her that you rarely see through the course of the narrative, masked by her inherently cheery attitudes, but one which you hear nonetheless through this tune. It's also a truly fantastic piece of music that deserves all the recognition and appreciation that it enjoys.

In stark contrast, yet somehow along the same emotional frequency, and that is the sombre track known as Gwyn's Theme. Situated in the notoriously esoteric Dark Souls franchise, 'Gywn, Lord of Cinder' has a slightly more important role in the Dark Souls franchise as in itself it should elucidate the listener to another layer of the story, however sleight. The Dark Souls franchise is full of call backs and rhythming phrases in their music alone, but I think most can agree none do so more memorably than this one Piano theme. A masterpiece of simple complexity, Gwyn's theme forsakes the large orchestras and the bellowing choirs in favour of two simple pianos immediately bringing the player in for an intimate moment to this intimate duel. One piano plays this relentless and desperate rythym whilst the other cuts in with this beautiful but shrill melody. Of course, anyone familiar with the Story of Gywn will know how this reflects the god-king's determination to preserve the First Flame from which birthed his entire legacy. Everything he has ever worked towards is dependant on keeping this flame alive, which is challenged by nature itself as the flame is doomed to die. By the time you reach him you've stripped his lords of their souls and am merely facing off against an iron-willed yet hollowed man who's last prevailing desire is to protect the flame until he breathes his last.

But that's not all, because I want to look at Dark Souls once again in order to pick out a mostly different (with emphasis on 'mostly') character theme in 'The Soul of Cinder', the final boss of Dark Souls 3. Here is a theme that lays on the scale and drama, even kicking off will a church bell and deep choirs to make you instantly aware of the gravity of this foe you're facing. But beneath all of that there's this vicious and unpredictable string section that's fast and sharp in a way that captures this sense of serious danger. Once more you are facing off against a single huge enemy, hardly a sight for sore eyes in the Dark Souls world, but with the horns and Church-esque thematic touches there's this sense that this Soul of Cinder is of more consequence than perhaps anyone you've ever faced. And that's because the Soul is a deific representation of every single previous Lord of Cinder who has ever linked the flames. (I.E. every single past player of Dark Souls 1 and 2) Funnily enough the gameplay also tells a bit of the story here, as The Soul's entire moveset is based upon player abilities and animations in order to make the comparison more apparent. But all that merely covers the first half of the theme, because there is a distinct difference for the rest of it. For the second phase of the fight there is a moment wherein the theme grows higher than it has ever done before (coinciding with the Soul of Cinder calling upon his second half bar) and at the pinnacle the track morphs into a shade of that same shrill Piano melody from Dark Souls 1. (the one representing Gwyn) This also marks a trend toward the track becoming a lot quieter and more solemn, mirroring the way in which this fight is no longer against all the Lords of Cinder, they've been beaten, but now it's a fight against the one Soul more stubborn than all of them, that of Gwyns. Again, the gameplay reflects this as the Soul's moveset literally becomes Gwyns, providing an incredibly powerful call back through merely the musical theme and the gameplay; for reference: this is one of the reasons why I consider Dark Souls the pinnacle of video game storytelling potential.

And finally I want to mention a very different character theme in just about every fashion, although that doesn't mean it isn't an epic, just in an entirely different manner. I'm talking about 'Pledge of Demon' from Yakuza 0. There's less of a narrative within the music with this one, but the theme still exists to colour in the image of one of the game's more enduring characters, the Dojima Family Lieutenant, Kuze. Rather contrary to the classical influences that make up Dark Souls, 'Pledge of Dragon' features harsh and relentless electric guitars, drums and just some brilliant production tricks thrown in there to spice things up. Quite simply, it a theme that conveys this power and anger to it, perfect to accompany the man who will "tough it out to the end", as Kuze himself preaches. Rather then a elucidation upon a side of this character we may not see too often, 'Pledge of Demon' is a reinforcement of everything that Kuze claims to be, fitting as he is one of the most upfront and straight villains in the game, but in way that absolutely plays to his strength. A strong theme for a strong character.

Those are just a few of the character themes that have been playing over and over in my head for the past couple of weeks, but of course there are so many more like them. If I didn't find the lyrics so ear scrappingly cringey, I might have even mentioned 'Bury the Light' or any of the newer Sonic themes. (I could have written an entire blog on the way that 'Big Arms' portrays both the hero and villain in the story. Okay, maybe just a couple of paragraphs, but they would be passionate paragraphs!) I think character work is so of the most interesting and most diverse tasks that a storyteller can embark on, and when that collides with music I just find it utterly fascinating. I'll be sure to keep my ear out for any more instant classics and maybe even create a sequel blog, who knows.

The coming of the Dark- Soul.

And then there was fire.

Recently I finally got around to definitively completing Dark Souls 3, which means that I have successfully completed the entire franchise and now feel a void in my life knowing that the tale of the First Flame has come to an end. As part of my natural coping mechanisms, this means that I have to now go over my thoughts about the queries and questions that the game intentionally leave and delve into that final riddle which Dark Souls 3 leaves us with. (And who knows, it might be fun!) Of course, given the nature of such a discussion I must remind you all that this means mega spoilers will come out for the main story arc, so if you've any interest in the Dark Souls story then turn away. Unless you similarly have completed every bit of Dark Souls lore, in which case: Welcome friend, let's chat. (FYI, I'm still learning and theorising myself about chunks of Lore so bear in mind if I make a wrong supposition here or there.)

So the events of Dark Souls are preceded, and coloured by, the end of the Age of Ancients; an unformed world characterised by Great trees and Everlasting Dragons. After the Advent of Fire, creatures known as 'Hollows' were born unto the world and they sought out Souls near the light of the First Flame. With the power that these souls conveyed, these Hollows, now lords, fought and overthrew the Everlasting Dragons, thus ushering in The Age of Fire. What's important to note, is that of the four Lord souls which were taken, the furtive pygmy was the creature who came away with The Dark Soul. With this came the element of Dark into the world, which birthed nearly all forms of lesser creature, most notably among them being humans. That's right 'Dark Souls' essentially works as an off-hand to refer to humans, as we are merely Hollows imbued with that little bit of Darkness called 'Humanity'.

Now in the Age of Fire, those who claimed the Souls of Lords now assume their positions as Gods and invoke an age of prosperity for themselves. They now live in huge sprawling kingdoms with impractically tall ceilings and the like, seen to by droves of lesser beings who worship their ever move. It must have been quite the sight to see, but we'll never know as every single Dark Souls game takes place at the tail-end of the Age of Fire, wherein the First Flame which conferred all these brilliant powerful souls to the gods, thus fuelling our innovation, has begun to fade. Everything that happens in the Dark Souls series is coloured by this event, the First Flame flutters and the world begins to crumble and decay in it's wake. The leader of the Lord Souls stealers, Lord Gwyn, thus curses humanity with the Dark Sign, the curse of undeath. Under this new degree, those who die are reborn as undead, cursed to slowly lose themselves and their humanity by dying over and over again until they revert back to their base Hollow forms. The only way to prevent this, to die for seemingly good, is to seek out the First Flame and sacrifice themselves to it, thus kindling the flame. (At least that's my supposition for why Gwyn cursed humanity, it makes sense, no?)

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself. You see, Gwyn noticed the fading of the light a good time ago and he knew that he had to do something about it in order to preserve all he has built, to ensure his legacy. Thus Gwyn, who's soul had ballooned to perhaps the most brilliant in existence at that time, choose to sacrifice himself at the Kiln of the First Flame in an act that has come to be known as 'The Linking of the Fire'. He burns up his soul in order to feed the first flame and make it burn brightly once more, and if you put yourself in his shoes you can see why. Everything that was made in the world of Dark Souls was done with the power imbued by the First Flame, so it's fading doesn't just mean that magic will drift from the world or something arbitrary like that, instead everything will converge and disappear along with the light. No cities, nor castles nor any monument of old will stand. Be that as it may, Gwyn's sacrifice was still seen by some as 'The First Sin', because of the way he artificially prolonged the life of the flame instead of allowing nature to take it's course and the Age of Dark to come.

You following so far? Good, because finally we've come to beginnings of the first game and can start to talk about relevant events. Dark Souls 1 takes place as the flame is fading once again after Lord Gwyn's sacrifice. You assume the shoes of the Chosen Undead, who's tasked with gathering the brilliant souls of the Gods who fought alongside Lord Gywn and using them as tinder to reignite the fire once more. It is a harrowing journey, leading the player to explore the depths of each branch of fire, and resulting in a battle against the haggard, hollow body of Gwyn, who mindlessly guards the Kiln of the First Flame. At the end of the game the player is given a choice, either to light the Kiln (resulting in an explosion of fire as the cycle begins again) or walk away. (Thus allowing the flame to fade and becoming a Dark Lord.) Though in the end your choice is fruitless, because as Aldis, Scholar of the First Sin, explains in Dark Souls 2; there will always be one more who will choose to relight the flame at the last second. Thus spells out the severity of Gwyn's sin, there will never be a time when nature is allowed to take her course unimpeded. In a sense, Gwyn has locked the world in a cycle of endless entropy and decay.

In Dark Souls 3, events fast forward to countless linkings later. Many have gone the path of collecting powerful Souls in order to feed them back to the flame that created them, thus becoming a Lord of Cinder. The latest proposed lord, Prince Lothric, chose to shirk their duty which led to the resurrection of some previous Lords of Cinders to do his job for him. (See, even after sacrificing oneself, no one breaks free from undeath.) Once they too turn their back on the First Flame, the rejects are recalled. Those who failed their journeys to Link the Flame, resulting in the player, The Ashen One, coming back to unlife. The curious difference here comes from the fact that the very world seems much worse than it ever was in Dark Souls. In the original, everything had sunk into decay, but here it's almost as though reality itself has begun to unravel. The Lords, for example, have fled to their homes from all over the world, but converging reality moves these locations a trek's distance from Lothric. It's clear that there's something different with this loop.

What exactly that is cannot be made abundantly clear until the player manages to wrangle the Souls of the absent Lords of Cinder and travelled back to the Kiln of the First Flame. This time the flame is defended by a deific manifestation of all those who have linked the flames before (which actually informs a good chunk of his moveset) called The Soul of Cinder. After felling it and attending the fire (should the Ashen One choose to) they'll be met with a mirror scene of the first game's Linking with a rather notable difference; Instead of the roaring blaze from the first relinking, all we see is a gentle flame, not so much different to that of a bonfire. It makes sense, doesn't it? For countless cycles the Flame has been fed the same souls it regurgitated, they would get weaker and weaker with each cycle. So now there is barely anything left, and it's safe to say that this is the last cycle. The fire cannot be linked again and the Age of Dark is inevitable. The series then ends on that ominous note. (Provided you decided to link the flame, that is.)

It's a curious, yet fittingly dour, ending for the franchise and like any good ending it leaves us with one unanswerable question; what does the future hold? The Age of Dark is inevitable, sure, but what exactly is 'The Age of Dark' and what will it mean? A decidedly unreliable source, Darkseeker Kaathe, seems to imply that it will be an 'Age of Man', where no longer will nature suffer at the whims of Gods. But does that also mean an age where we get stripped of innovation, of magic, of all the grandeur of the Age of Fire? Almost certainly given the way the world literally warps and amasses in Dark Souls 3's Kiln of the First Flame. So will 'The Age of Dark' be a literal Dark Ages for the world? Or maybe something more ominous awaits, like the 'Sea of Deep' which that cannibalistic nutcase Aldrich foresaw, or maybe the rise of The Chaos which The Ivory King sacrificed himself to delay in Dark Souls 2. Or maybe just the return of the Abyss and Manus. (Though I'll admit that last one is excessively unlikely. We killed all his fragments in Dark Souls 2, right...)

So I guess the question that Dark Souls leaves us with is one of whether we choose to prolong the fire, even knowing that it's a futile act, or abandon it, welcoming in an unknowable age of Dark which may or may not spell the end of all life. It's a query that challenges concepts like legacy and the fallacy of immortality, which Lord Gwyn fought so desperately for, as well as raising more traditional questions like freedom of destiny, is a futile choice still a valuable one? There's so many layers and angles to the finale of Dark Souls that I'm just beginning to broach, and I'm sure those invested will debate over it for years to come. Whether they support the Fire or the Darkness, whether Aldis was right and a new Age of Fire will erupt sometime in the future, whether the entire plot of the game is really just about human's being exploited by Gods to preserve a world which ultimately wasn't even designed for them. I'm just scraping the surface and there's so many questions to think on. I just wanted to summarise, in words, how I think the story of Dark Souls played out and maybe if you're in a similar position this may have been a little cathartic for you too; here's hoping that From Software's Elden Ring remains even a glimmer as narratively rich and memorable.