Some Kind of Arch Joke

The Archers of Anor Londo.

Up until now, Anor Londo had been bearable. True, the game's decision that it had suddenly become Assassin's fucking Creed was a bit of an inconvenience, but the complete lack of swinging blades, narrow platforms full of enemies designed to stagger you but not be staggered or enormous firebombs was rather welcome.

But those fucking archers, man.

I can get past their arrows. I can reach the rightmost one. But I can't fucking do anything when I get there. kicking him doesn't move him, and all of his attacks send me flying (I'm usually low on stamina because of all the rolling I need to do to even reach melee range.

What do I do? I don't know if I can leave Anor Londo (The way you get there is pretty fucking spectacular, I'll say that) in order to find some ranged support, and I don't have many weapons that do any real pushback damage.

I have a horrible feeling I'm fucked.

Fortress Maximus

You know what? I'd rather do Blight Town again than Sen's Fortress.

Blight Town was an exercise in managing aggro, careful probing and adventuring.

Sen's Fortress is an exercise in being punished for not using a ranged weapon, getting sideswiped by things you can't manage and that you only get one opportunity at, and playing hunt-the-bonfire while this whole mechanical house of bullshit ticks and whirs malevolently against you.

So, Anyway...

...As I was saying.

First off, an apology to anyone who actually reads this nonsense - a couple of things cropped up recently that kept me from playing/writing.

Ahem.

I stand in front of you - I'll take the force of the blow.

I meant to write this post a long time ago, but I'm dreadful so I didn't. It's been sat as a title in my Drafts folder for the longest time, but I've decided to tackle it right now because I don't want this blog turning into "and then I did and then I did and then I did", like a child's summer holiday diary.

(Funny story: An ex of mine was almost investigated by social services when she was a child, as in her summer holiday diary she "wrote Daddy went to work and Mummy went to the pub" - her dad worked away, and her mum worked in the local pub, but would take time off when he was home. That's one's on the house.)

Fucked in the Poison Swamp.

So.

There I was, fighting the Chaos Witch Quelaag. I'd already been slaughtered by her once (the whole jumping while vomiting lava thing caught me well off guard, in a corner, leading to a rather rapid demise), so I'd summoned a lovely, helpful player who bowed in front of me as he arrived in my little version of Lordran.

He then insisted on aggroing every single one of those fucking boulder throwers.

"For fuck's sake", I thought.

There's Too Much Panic In This Town.

I have returned from Blighttown.

I don't want to be "that guy", but... well, frankly, I don't see what all the fuss is about.

A Postcard From The Edge.

Dearest Readers;

I hope this message finds you in good time.

I pen this missive from deep beneath the earth, hunched over a fire in the acrid tunnels of Blight Town.

The Chaos Witch Quelaag's domain lies ahead of me, but my attempts to defeat her have so far been fruitless. My weapon is in danger of becoming permanently damaged, and my hope dwindles faster than my reserves of Estus.

I thought I was prepared for my trip into the bowels of Lordran, but in my haste to ring the second bell I did not realise that I had bought a smithbox from Andre, rather than the very similar repairbox which he also sells. I am clearly a massive knob, and should pay more attention to things.

There is but one light shining in the darkness: The master key I was given when my journey began. I have heard stories of this key opening a door in the Valley of the Drakes that will allow me passage back to Firelink Shrine via the ruins of New Londo - leaving me but a short distance from Andre the Blacksmith in the Undead Parish. 

I cannot make the journey tonight, but tomorrow I plan on leaving the relative safety of this drain that I have made my home and bolting for the workshop of the Blacksmith.

Wish me luck, and Godspeed.

Deadmeat

Level 33 Hunter

I'm Going Deeper Underground.

Today, I ventured into The Depths once more.

I also went back to Darkroot Garden first though, so let's talk about that.

Y'know those Giant Stone Knights? I hate them. They're slow but they're dangerous, mainly because if you get too close to them they'll cast a complete pain in the arse of a spell that slows you down, stops you from rolling, and essentially means that you'll quite likely be seeing a bonfire pretty soon.

Furthermore, the even bigger pain in the arse thing about that spell is that there's no way of telling whether it's still active or not without getting affected by it.

And if you want the Wolf Ring (which is really bloody useful (I've learned properly about Poise recently)), you have to go through two of those fuckers. And some frog rays if you go about it the wrong way.

Fuckers.

Dedicated to the Butterfly.

I quite like Darkroot Garden.

No, that's a lie. I hate Darkroot Garden, like everywhere else in Dark Souls. Everywhere in the game is horrible, and I understand that that's the point. But Darkroot Garden feels like a squirming, living place that's oppressive in a way that leafy, green places haven't been since fairy tales, and that's kind of cool. After the enemies hidden round corners and dead ends of the Undead Burg, spending time in a place where enemies can appear literally from underneath your feet is quite exciting.

I'll probably write a post about it sometime soon.

Anyway. I spent a little bit of time in Darkroot Garden today. hat did I get up to? Well, I engaged in a number of pitched battle with the local flora and fauna, thanks for asking. I fought trees, bushes and giant red frog-hovercraft things, and I got absolutely annihilated by a few giant stone suits of armour.

The last bit kind of sucked.

Prowler Near The Garden.

I've got the Key to the Depths.

As you might remember, I yanked it from the corpse of the Capra Demon like the legendary hero that I am. I slammed my boot on the goat prick's skull, and pulled the key from between the flaps of tattered fur and torn sinew that I left lying in the dirt in the Undead Burg.

Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm not shit-scared of the place, so I decided that for this addition to my Dark Souls diary, I'd go and do anything at all that wasn't heading closer to Blight Town.

La Petite Mort

The Capra Demon is dead.

Or, as I put it more succinctly at the time:

SUCK MY BUM CAPRA DEMON YOU'RE DEAD AND I'M NOT HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. It's actually kind of easy if you can get up the stairs.
— Chris Spann (@cs87) March 3, 2013

And here's the weird thing: The Capra Demon is quite easy. "Easy" means a different thing in Dark Souls to most other games admittedly, but once you get two things clear in your head, the fight is actually fairly simple.

Low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low.

First off, this.

Dark Souls. Why is the pool in Firelink Shrine snoring? DARK SOULS.
— Chris Spann (@cs87) March 1, 2013

I don't understand. Why would a pool of water even do that?

ANYWAY!

Last time, as you might remember, our plucky hero (It feels like the right time to tell you that my character is called 'Deadmeat') had rang the bell in the Undead Parish, had a new hat a renewed sense of purpose, and absolutely no clue what to do next.