Wrapped in ancient whispers, a place thought to only exist on old parchments and nothing more. Still those words spurred something in me, and I journeyed great and far on the back of myths and nothing more.

Dead ends where numerous, lies and hearsay even more. Yet still I trusted some distant vision of those ancient trees that pierced the heavens and the great beasts that roamed in the spaces between.

I am not much more than tatters now, with a shield dented and a battle axe dulled by impact and time. Yet here I am, in this place of those ancient whispers. It’s more magnificent than any of the texts even began to suggest.

There is no way back to from whence I came. The path has been long and filled with many turns and obscuring loops. Yet that is of no concern. For contentment washes over me and this place being my final one feels right, and proper.


Ash Lake from Dark Souls is beautiful.



The sand stretches out for days. And the bridge stretches beyond that. Not even that gives the structure contentment, for it must also brush against the heavens themselves.

The end of that bridge is my only goal. Time has fractured the path above so I must ride in its shadow, its presence forever looming over this vast journey.

I sometimes wonder if the end of it will ever be seen, and the doubts assault my senses. But my companion is loyal, and beyond strong. Onwards we ride, forever seeking a source.


Shadow of the Colossus is one of the best video games ever made. And Agro is the best video game horse.


The banners held some significance at some point, and they held that aloft, and proud. Whenever that was though is a time forever gone. They’ve disintegrated into tatters, and disintegrate further still.

Under the red sky this crumbled empire lingers, aptly represented by these cloth remnants. And it would seem that when the banners finally topple, so will the remains of this place. One seems to prop up the other, each resembling the others decline.

Maybe I shall see it fall, or maybe not. For me journey is not yet finished, and it could either lead far away from here, or to the source. But it seems the merest touch would send this place tumbling down, and many things have fallen with my passing through.


I haven’t written anything like this for ages, so why not try inspiration from my favourite thing, video games! Particularly From Software’s video games.They are amazing.


“But why not master the bow, or even seek out the arcane?”
“You always return hurt, sometimes gravely. The distance offered would at least
mitigate that, would it not?”
“You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”
“No, I am. Your concerns are appreciated, and you do raise some good points. But
while the bows and magics of the world offer degrees of safety they lack that vital
feeling of catharsis. When a cataclysmic encounter nears its end, and the axe
blade splinters a beasts arm into a mess of crimson and bone. When that
beast cries out and the final arc smashes into its side, rending flesh in twain.
That is catharsis. And without that, I can’t do this. Distance cannot give that
feeling. I hope you understand this, why I shall carry this axe forever more.”


More Salt and Sanctuary and Bloodborne inspired writing.

Music I listened to as I wrote this:

Good stuff.


Brilliant and pure, a ribbon of light floating in the darkness.

I cannot recall the exact time when I first saw it. I only know sleep eluded me
during that time, and the light seemed to be a hallucination.

But night after night the light returned until I could deny its existence no longer.
So I accepted it, and the light led me through the darkness. And the things it
revealed to me. So many secrets and places beyond human space.

Soon the night was welcomed. For with it came the light and it always pleased me so.

Friends and family fell away. I only needed the light.

Everyone stopped talking to me. They would always disappear after trying to speak
to me. The village gradually slipped into abandonment. Only me and the light remained.

Everywhere is caked in filth, and other things. I feel different but I cannot say how.
No mirrors remain to reflect my visage, and no one remains to speak to me, leaving me
alone to assess my person, and I’m too far gone for that. Much of my life before the
light visited is merely a phantom. But, that’s fine. For each time the night comes,
the light shows me so many beautiful things.


More Bloodborne inspired writing.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

If I’m being honest, a lot (if not all) of my motivation for learning Japanese has gone. But I still listen to these, out of habit if nothing else.


Around midday. That’s when it started.

With a great flash the sky opened up and from the rift massive tentacles slithered
forth, translucent streams that wrapped around everything.

And amidst the showers of glass and concrete, something about the whole thing feels
strangely comforting, as if this was the inevitable ending.

The last of the world comes a part now all of it just tumbling down, tumbling down.


Random thing. Also I should watch Evangelion again.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

I’ll figure it out.


It has been some time since the last big feed. His constant reminders make me
aware of that.

I reassure him that it will not be long. That he must practice patience. When the
moon rises, then it will be time. I think he listens.

Something stirs in the streets. Lamentations, and netherworld growls. And there,
high in the night, a pale blood moon.

The night will be long, and beasts are plentiful. We can take our time here. We can
make it last.

So here we are, trudging home, the morning light glistening on the mess of blood and
sinew. The great sword has fed, and heartily so.


All Bloodborne. All the time.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

More Japanese podcasts.


And from the ocean they shamble forth, salt crusted hulks of sinew and spines
carrying great axes of leviathan bone and hammers of deep ocean rock. Having
advanced upon the many castles of the kingdom they rend them asunder, the dust
scattering in the wind. And with their violence and fury not sated, they move
further inland.

Then the rain dripped through the roof, rousing me from sleep. And so I move to
a dry corner and seek sleep once more so they may finish their work and the
kingdom can be rebuilt a new.

In dream of course. For everything is in dream.


What I listened to as I wrote this:

Trying to make engaging with the Japanese language consistent. That should help.


I had to go back out there. I couldn’t leave that thing out there. A moment to
regain my composure. Another to put locate my helmet. Catching sight of myself on
my blood marked sword, there’s a mix of anxiety, fear and yet, something below all
that, simmers with hope, and brightness. I’d need that, before stepping out into the

I stumbled out of the castle, practically broken, clutching my side. Groups had
gathered with swords drawn, eyes filled with rage. They closed in, but they didn’t
matter. I held the bloody cape aloft. All of them knew of its significance, my
achievement. Falling to their knees, swords hit the ground. I made my way through
the throng, and then out of here.


A result of playing Salt and Sanctuary.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

Maybe I’ll keep learning Japanese. It would be nice to know.


There’s lot’s to ruminate on.

When the thing broke my leg. When it snapped my arm in half. The many wounds
and scars it has inflicted. When it sent me flying from the bridge, leaving both
body and soul crippled. And the indignity of being carried to safety, robbed of my
own power. That burned for the longest.

All of these moments suddenly come together in a thick haze, halting me for a
moment. The beast lay there, howling, cradling the blood splattered fracture
that once passed for a rib cage. Brushing the memories aside, I raise the axe
on high, and finish the arc deep in its skull, sending blood everywhere.

And there I stand, plastered in crimson, filled with the joy catharsis brings.
But it won’t last for long. There’s always more beasts to slaughter.


I’ve been playing Bloodborne. Lot’s of Bloodborne. Unhealthy amounts even. But it’s so good, so very, very, very good.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

I keep trying to learn Japanese. I try to listen something everyday, just to keep the language in my mind. I do struggle with motivation right now.