Dark Souls: Tale Of Lordran: Blighttown

Hello once again, this time with probably one of the most hated areas of the game, and with good reason. I even hated this area with a passion on my first play through, besides the horrendous frame drop when you enter this area, it was just…. no. Blighttown was the epitome of frustration, but hey, its got a pretty cool area boss, and if I think about it, it really wasn’t that bad, not compared to another area I can think of. But whatever, even with my hate for this cursed area, I made sure that our Chosen Undead could get out of this with his head on his body, and of course I did a little meddling so that he could get to this area without that much confusion. Although Blighttown itself is designed to confuse and make you go crazy. But anyway, here you go, “Blighttown”.

After finishing his rest, the Chosen Undead decided to press on and descend the ladders. Upon reaching the bottom of the ladders, the Chosen Undead found himself standing on what seemed to be rafters of sorts.  The platforms he was walking on were all made of wood, and they were being supported by wooden beams that seemed to go down forever. The Chosen Undead questioned the sturdiness and the quality of the wooden platforms he was walking on. But he gave it no heed, rather he had no time to give it heed.

In front of him, the Chosen Undead was met with a bulking creature. He wasn’t sure whether to classify it as an Undead, but the one thing he did know was that it wasn’t friendly. The creature was large in size despite having no armor. It was human like, except, it’s skin was blued, like it was infected with some kind of incurable virus. In its right hand, it wielded a Large Club. The Infested Barbarian charged the Chosen Undead, swinging its Club right into the Chosen Undead. The Chosen Undead brought his shield up and to his surprise deflected the Club. The Barbarian faltered back  and the Chosen Undead used this chance to stab his Sword through the Barbarians body. The Barbarian got up promptly, but the Chosen Undead didn’t slow his movements and continued by slashing the Barbarian. Although his Sword cut right through the flesh of the Barbarian, it stood tall and simply swung its Club at the Chosen Undead. The Chosen Undead parried his Club once again, and stabbed the Barbarian as a counter. This time, the Barbarian fell.  The Chosen Undead noted it’s vitality, and wondered what other creatures lay waiting for him in these decrepit lands.

The Chosen Undead continued his way on the wooden platforms. Along the platforms, were wooden like structures that had pots sitting beside them. It all seemed strange, that a place like this existed. Who could have built all of this, wondered the Chosen Undead. And for what reason. The Chosen Undead thought back, and remembered that although he was in Blighttown, that the Bell of Awakening  would probably be even lower, the wooden supports seemed to have suggested that as well. There was more to tread, and he had to get to lower grounds as soon as possible. The Chosen Undead peered off at the end of the wooden platforms and looked to see any reasonable scaffoldings. The Chosen Undead was surprised to see a lower platform, one that was within jumping distance. The Chosen Undead took any chance he could and took a few steps back before leaping onto the lower platform. After a successful jump, the Chosen Undead was instantly assaulted by Infested Ghouls; human sized creatures that were all flesh. Not a shred of skin, if their flesh was not considering as such, existed. Their white and ashen bones could be seen through the tiny slivers of flesh, and the ones that charged the Chosen Undead wielded weapons. One held a corpse, of what, even the Chosen Undead couldn’t tell at this point. Another held a rusted sword. These creatures did not seem to take kindly to their new visitor.

The Ghoul holding the corpse jumped up at the Chosen Undead and tried to bash him with the Corpse. The Chosen Undead stepped out of danger with a hair to spare and countered by sticking his sword through the sides of the Ghoul. The Chosen Undead brought his Sword out, and then deflected the other Ghoul.  The Chosen Undead used his Shield  to bash the Ghoul in front of him away and then finished the corpse holding ghoul with a swift slash. The Chosen Undead then reverted his attention and gave a telegraphed cross slash to the Ghoul in front of him. Without surprise, the Ghoul took the slash, and the Chosen Undead followed up with a stab, rendering the Ghoul dead. The Chosen Undead proceeded through the wooden platforms, ignoring the pots littered about, until he found a ladder, illuminated by a single torch.  He climbed it, and proceeded through the wooden platforms.  Before he could get far, he was instantly assaulted by an Infested Ghoul.  This one had a spear, and stayed its distance as it poked the Chosen Undead. The Chosen Undead held his shield up to block each strike, however with things the way they are, he won’t be able to gain distance. The poking stopped, and as the Chosen Undead lowered his shield, he noticed that the Infested Ghoul had winded up for a large pounce and jumped at the Chosen Undead. The Chosen Undead was grabbed furiously, but managed to push the Ghoul off before getting eaten.  The Chosen Undead hurriedly grabbed his Sword and stabbed it through the head of the Ghoul. The Chosen Undead pressed on through the wooden platforms.

Before the Chosen Undead could realize it, he had already gone so far in that the only natural light of the area was by the torches surrounding the area. The wooden structures also became more complex, much more sturdy, but at the same time, housed nothing but beasts.  The Chosen Undead descended another ladder, before making his way again. The area truly was complex. It was a bustling town indeed. The Chosen Undead began scaling the wooden platforms aimlessly, hoping to find some semblance of where to go. In the distance, he saw what seemed to be a stone walkway. The Chosen Undead, intrigued by this sudden change of layout went towards that stone support.

Upon reaching it, he noticed a Bonfire. The Chosen Undead gave a quick rest before venturing forward.  The Chosen Undead moved forward, towards what seemed to be a large stone support and went around, as wooden platforms  had been created circling around this pillar. At the end of his circling, he noticed another stone walkway. The purpose of these stone pathways must be as connecting bridges, thought the Chosen Undead.  The Chosen Undead walked across the stone bridge and towards more wooden platforms. A Ghoul  waited for him on the other side, but the Chosen Undead quickly dispatched it with a cross slash. As the Ghoul fell, the Chosen Undead noticed that the wooden platforms began to branch off. The Chosen Undead peered off and noticed more wooden platforms that led below. The Chosen Undead jumped from one platform to another; eventually climbing down a ladder. At the end of the ladder, he noticed a sloping platform, that led to what seemed to be a cave. Of course the Chosen Undead noticed promptly that the stone wall had just been opened, and this entrance was just that; an entrance.

Upon entering and making his way through, he noticed that he was in a sort of sewage tunnel. The drop off surely would have killed anybody, but luckily for the Chosen Undead, wooden platforms and ladders were created to help him. At the end of the caved in entrance, was another set of ladders. After traversing each one, the Chosen Undead felt that he was getting lower, and that was good. Save for the fact that he had a new threat. As the Chosen Undead ran down the platforms, he noticed  a giant insect like creature hovering. It was a Cragspider. A creature with the appearance of a giant spider, but had short wings that aided it in movement. It’s body was  bony and in the middle, was a reddened area, presumably where the head was. The Chosen Undead gave it no chance, and simply slashed into the fleshy middle of the Cragspider, rendering it immobile. As the Chosen Undead made his way, he was assaulted by more Cragspiders and had no choice but to slay them all.

The Chosen Undead kept this rhythm of slaying Cragspiders and advancing down the wooden platforms, until finally reaching the end. There were very few dirt patches that stood as footing, but other than that, most of the area was covered in swamp. The more the Chosen Undead stood in the swamp, the more he felt weak. It seemed that the swamp was sapping his energy, and if he stood any longer, he would surely find himself in a tough situation. The Chosen Undead hurriedly rolled his way to any nearby dirt holding while traversing among the swamp. The swamp made it hard to move, but if he rolled with enough strength, he could make a decent amount of distance. As the Chosen Undead rolled reverently in the swamp, he noticed a sort of shore in the distance. It was a large dirt mound that was surrounded by Infested Barbarians holding large rocks above their heads.

The Chosen Undead thought quickly, but not quickly enough before he began rolling towards the mound. As he got close enough, the Barbarians noticed and winded back to throw the boulders at the Chosen Undead. The Chosen Undead managed to roll out of a few incoming rocks, but he let one slip, and had to stand in the swamp with his Shield out, in hopes to block the boulder coming to meet his face. The boulder crashed hard against the Shield and made the Chosen Undead fall to his feet. The Barbarians began racing down the swamp, which prompted the Chosen Undead to get up and roll towards the dirt shore. As he arrived, he began noticing that his vitality was getting weak, he was poisoned from the swamp. Ignoring his condition, he pressed on by climbing the dirt mound until he met the mouth of a cave. He entered it, leaving the overlarge Barbarians behind.

As the Chosen Undead caught his breath, he noticed that he was still poisoned. His health was draining at a steady rate. He noticed an exit out of this cave, but it lead to an area covered in silk and large bumps in the walls. Before pressing on, however, he needed to rest. The poison was doing its work, and the Chosen Undead was in no condition to fight. As the Chosen Undead was trying to find respite, and was about to drink an Estus, he noticed a figure. She was laying on the floor not too far from the exit of the small rest cave. She wore all black robes, and her face was drenched in black; in that there was no way anyone would be able to see her face. Her hands were emanating a bright red, however.  She was Quelaana of Izalith. The Chosen Undead did not know whether she was acknowledging him. But she spoke anyway.

“Hmm. A mere Undead, yet you can see me? Fascinating. I am Quelaana of Izalith. I am not often revealed to walkers of flesh. You have a gift. Are you, too, one who seeks my pyromancy? Like Salaman.” The Chosen Undead nodded his head reluctantly. Although he was not one to seek such arcane powers, he had seen previously how well they fared when backed in a corner. Perhaps even he, who is so driven by his own strength can see some use in learning such old arts.

“Yes, of course. It should be expected. Very well. You shall be my pupil. But to purse my pyromancy, you must give something up. Are you prepared to do this?” The Chosen Undead nodded.  The first pyromancy the Chosen Undead learned was Fire Whip.

*Fire Whip*

Primal pyromancy taught by Quelaana of Izalith.

The root pyromancy of Combustion, but much more difficult to wield.

Without further instruction, Quelanna began speaking again.

“Long ago, I accepted another pupil, like yourself. Over two-hundred years ago, there was a man, almost as bungling as you, in your world he was called Salaman the Master Pyromancer. The little rascal really made something of himself.”  The Chosen Undead thought hard, and wondered what pyromancy really was. If not the sorceries of Vinheim, or the miracles of the Clerics, than what was pyromancy? A subset of both of these things, or an art all on its own?

“Pyromancy is the art of invoking and manipulating fire. But remember one thing. Always fear the flame, lest you be devoured by it, and lose yourself. I would hate to see that happen again.” The Chosen Undead took those words to heart. Always fear the flame. The Chosen had one final inquiry and asked about Izalith.

“The Witch of Izalith? Please, do not speak of her. I abandoned my mother and sisters and fled to this land. Now I roam these parts, feigning ablution, and pretending to seek answers.” The Chosen Undead pried no further, and set his foot forward, his poison now but resided.

“Now, go. Whatever you do, do not crack and go Hollow. Lest my time spent on you be wasted.” The Chosen Undead looked forward, and stepped into the strange area he now found himself on. Except the strangest, must have been the creature at the end of the room waiting for his arrival.


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