I didn't 'get' Dark Souls until the combat wasn't what I was focused on. And once I had that under my control, I realised I was wrong about Dark Souls.Įarlier I said that I 'got' Dark Souls. In fact, after beating the golden boys of Anor Londo, the rest of the game was relatively easy combat wise. My skill at the game had so vastly improved I could beat these two beasts with the equivalent of a weaponised toothpick and it felt glorious. The incredible spirit of dozens of people cheering me on with every death was reassuring. Somewhere in those hours of bashing my head against golden chest plates and rubble, I had come to love the game. I even had Scottish comedian Limmy come in and berate me for how I was joking around with chat while in the middle of the fight.
Some told me to head back and get a new weapon which went against my headstrong attitude. New viewers would occasionally come in and ask me to change weapon, to which my entire chat would laugh at the suggestion that I had anything more powerful. I didn’t keep a death counter for my playthrough, but I spent four streams and about 12 to 14 hours fighting, dying and strolling back. So I walk into the fight with Ornstein and Smough and am totally destroyed. It’s incredibly powerful in the early game, but doesn’t scale with your character, making it useless at, let’s say… Anor Londo. As revenge you can sit under the bridge, cheesing its tail with arrows until you’re rewarded with the Drake Sword. The Drake Sword comes from the Hellkite Wyvern, encountered early on while trying to cross their bridge-honestly the dude just needs to chillax. And the second detail is that I was stuck with the Drake Sword. I never summoned, I never went away to level or find a better weapon for a fight-I just got good. When I meet a boss in Dark Souls I’ll just keep running at it over and over and over until I beat it fair and square. Ornstein and Smough are tough for any Dark Souls player, but now it’s time to admit two things about my particular playthrough. But then comes Anor Londo's main boss room, looming in the end of the Cathedral. The main areas didn’t pose much of a challenge, and thankfully one of those Black Knight archers fell off the roof so I was spared that particular provocation. I stumbled through Blighttown down into Quelaag’s lair, complained my way through Sen’s Fortress (my viewers thankfully showed me the hidden bonfire), and finally found myself in the heavenly Anor Londo. My viewers were in turn more determined to lightly guide me in the right direction and make sure that I finished the game. Every death was either a lesson in what not to do, or an action so stupid I couldn't help but laugh. This time the adventure was different because I was laughing. As I sat at the flickering bonfire, overshadowed by the cadaverous bones of Blighttown a year later, I had forgotten both the controls and what I was even doing in this dire place.
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