This is a sad post. Sort-of.
As much as I love vidoegames, it’s comparatively rare for me that a game has the same emotional impact as cinema or literature. There are some exceptions, Spec Ops: The Line, was bizarrely tight in it’s descent into madness, and Thomas Was Alone, made me feel for simple shapes, but in general it’s hard for a game to nail the emotional side when there is so much else to do and focus on.
The Souls games always were head of the class when it came to interjecting intricate easy-to-miss stories, but it’s Bloodborne that actually makes you care about them. However, there is one story that has stayed with me longer than the others, even though I finished the game nearly a three months ago: The story of Father Gascoigne.
There are about a million little bits than I can’t cover here from this single story or it would explode in size (the game is ridiculously detailed). But to give a quick overview: Early in the game you meet a little girl hiding in her home, she’s terrified and you offer to help her find her mother and father, which you eventually do. However, you find her father has lost his mind, her mother is dead (unclear if he was the cause, or this was the catalyst for his madness), and you’re forced to kill Gascoigne, her father. Without given away too much, from here, every action you take to rectify the decision continues a spiral of death and degradation.
The beautiful part is that all of this is missable. In fact it’s designed to be missed, but if you look hard enough, you can see the destruction and personal toll that this event has taken on a single family. It’s comparable to The Shinning, in that you watch a family not only tear apart, but also abandon and turn on the most delicate things that they should innately want to protect. There is something truly terrifying about that, and that is why Bloodborne is a masterpiece in storytelling.
An old house is sold, and my articles are packaged and shipped to me from Minnesota out to Colorado. Boxes wallpaper most of my basement and my garage. Even a short lifetime of accumulation can easily overwhelm any storage space. I start with the kitchen supplies and linens, but soon have made my way to the boxes filled with video games. There are half a dozen of them, a few with incredibly rare Saturn and Neo Geo Pocket titles, while most is shovel ware for the PS2 and Dreamcast that I never got around to playing. The first box I open has perhaps the most pleasant surprises:
It’s mostly portable games (which has always been my favorite way to play games). The PSP might be my favorite system of all time (so what if it’s all rereleases of Playstation games? They’re still the definitive versions), and the first three games I find are some of the fondest memories I have with any system:
Most of the games that I find I have played at one time or another. However there are a few that I meant to get to which I was never able:
The last two are both unique handheld Ogre Battle battle games. The first is Tactic Ogre for the GBA, a game that I did play when I was 14, but the memories of which are so intertwined with Final Fantasy Tactics that I can’t tell you a single thing that happened. The second is an Ogre Battle game that only released on the Neo Geo Pocket Color.
The Tactics Ogre for the GBA intrigues me, and if I can find a GBA I’ll boot it up. Given how fantastic Let Us Cling Together is, it will probably be my next Travel Log feature.
The stat bonuses are completely revamped. Only just realized that. It still is probably the case that upgraded weapons outperform the “unique” ones, but now the stat bonuses from intellegence, and faith, boost specific elemental damage (ie, magic and lightining damage respectively) , and share on others (fire and dark). It’s an interesting concept, as it presents the possibility of doing something different than a intelligence stacking katana (my final weapons of choice in the first two).
The boss battles are decidedly less epic. They’re still a solid challenge, but many of the bosses lack the grand scale of the original games. The levels do a better job of providing enjoyment, so it’s hard to be mad. The regular enemy cannon fodder (which is a terrible word because they can still be deadly) seems to have shifted to groups. Survival is now a matter of crowd control, isolating members and picking them off slowly. You always had to worry about multiple enemies in the previous games, but now they aggro together, which means 6 small knights chasing after you isn’t an uncommon occurrence.
A long break, and I’m concerned with how easy I can come back to the game. Enemies don’t continually respawn, and there’s an erie quiet as you travel through an area that was once full. In a way it’s a sense of progress, and a marker for the places you’ve traversed many times before. It serves as a useful flag after a break, making reentrance much easier.
Shortly after a boss fight my first phantom invasion occurs. I last awhile, but they know what they’re doing, and when I leave an opening they have enough stamina to end me. It mentions the word “Grey” spirit, that’s something new. He does what I think is a surfs up sign over my corpse. Weirdly it makes the costly murder easier to swallow.
The covenants are similar but better this time around. I learn the “Bell Keepers” are the grey phantoms. They invade when you enter a certain territory. This existed in the Nottingham-esque forest of DS1 as well. The problem with the forest in DS1, was the area was too large, and you had to hunt them down before the action began. Here it’s a simple goal, kill the player before they march up the small tower to the boss. Clever idea, probably my favorite covenant ever because of its simplicity.
One of the inferior things this time around are the actual worlds. DS1 had clearly delimitated worlds, each one unique. Sure, it was a bitch to get around, but you always knew where you were. It’s not the case this time, the aesthetics of each world bleeds into the other, the only thing providing clarity is the menu for fast travel at the bonfire. I realize this after clearing the Bastille, as the Belfry and Sinner’s, are essentially the same thing.
There are a lot more secrets, hidden paths and treasure chests, in DS2. Where as I used to blow past player notes, I become accustomed to reading every player note I come across. I even end up leaving a few. I’m progressing relatively easily, which leads me to believe I’m about to run into a sharp difficulty spike.
Shortly after writing the last paragraph, I drain all of my humanity dying over and over on the same boss. Beginner’s luck the first time, I leave him with a sliver of life when I die. I’m so frustrated, I’m quickly destroyed the next 3 times due to a lack of patience. I’m out of humanity, so I back track. Trying to find paths I overlooked before. 2000 souls open a path to a “copse”, which seems like they’re searching for nouns. The enemies are easy but I die 10 times on a jump before I realize I can press R1 to prevent myself from rolling off the landing. There must be a thousand people who have gone though the same thing. A quick google search and there’s huge threads of people bitching about the landing.