How I learned to stop worrying and love Dark Souls
For those of you who were wondering how exactly I spent my holidays, this was pretty much it. Dark Souls is one of the more notable titles in my Hall of Shame, and I thought I might as well chalk this one off the list during the festive season. I thought that a gripping cinematic RPG was just the ticket for me to unwind after a frenetic pre-Christmas release schedule, and it would be the perfect way for me to let off some steam.
Boy, was that a bright idea.
Firstly, let’s get this out of the way – yes, I have played Demon’s Souls and yes, I am on occasion a blithering idiot – but this wasn’t one of those times. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into – wide-eyed stupid, eh? Truth is, after throwing myself through game after game for purely review’s sake, I needed to kick back and play something without any ulterior motives. I needed to game for gaming’s sake, if you will; and, if you look at it in that light, Dark Souls is just what the doctor ordered.
I have spent the last couple of weeks being swatted all over Lordran. I have been battered from pillar to post, and have had my arse handed to me by dragons, rats and – worst of all – gravity (that heartless *****!). I’ve switched off my console more than once out of sheer frustration. I’ve almost certainly cursed more while playing this game than I have in all of last year. And I’ve absolutely loved every second of it.
This isn’t a love letter to Dark Souls, or indeed its wonderful predecessor – that will come, rest assured, but it will come later. This is just a tribute.