It just looked so damned cool, especially in comparison to its clunky predecessor. It wasn’t until trailers for DS3 started coming out that the bonfire within was rekindled. The dogs, thieves, and claustrophobia of the Lower Undead Burg were enough reason for me to throw in the towel. Dark Souls was - and is, even after falling in love with it and kicking off my years-long journey into the Souls series - confusing, infuriating, and downright weird. I know what you’re thinking: “You fell in love with it immediately, kicking off a years-long journey into the Souls series,” right? Quite the opposite, actually. So it was that we dug out a scratched but usable copy of the game from a GameStop bargain bin, paid something like $3 for it, and stuck it in the ol’ PS3. Up until then, the hardest games I’d played were probably those in the God of War series - games you could pause, mind you. I’d heard about it from a friend at school, and what he told me was intriguing: it was a game you couldn’t pause, in which secrets abounded and difficulty soared. Somewhere between Dark Souls II and Dark Souls III, my brother and I started playing the original Dark Souls.
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