by User Wed Apr 18, 2012 12:51 pm
Sigh. I always thought about being in Dark Souls. It feels like a tragedy to me.
Me? I would be me, of course. Wandering the world as I am now. Sure I will die, however after the first few deaths, I will get use to it. The aspect of surviving would be more fruitful and also more dangerous, as better movement and flexibility would allow me to survive. Later on, as I progress further and further, I would get stronger from the souls I collect from the fallen.
I would pick up my knife... my great, great knife, and cleave enemies with it. My hammer as well would later on be mine, although I might make a new one to fit my arm with better flexibility and damaging impact. I would not carry a crossbow, and I would not use magic as much, except for possibly that of Nito's miracles. I would die, and yet I would learn from my mistakes. I would become strong physically and mentally, challenging and beating every enemy I face... until the very end. then, it restarts.
The ideals of this is possibly the most frustration. The aspect of repeating the story you lived threw again and again, even after you chose the fate of the world after killing Gwyn. With only what you hold brought with you, you have to begin once again. Then it becomes repetitive, after repetition unfolds. The aspect of trying to stop the time distortion, to find the right endng for the curse laid by the Flame of Disparity, would also be hard. The search for the secrets would also be harder, as there would be no information told from any weapons or items or anything in the game.
Repetition, repetition, repetition... then, crestfallen. Later, hollowment. I dread the idea of such tragedy to become a reality.