This article is the fifth in a series exploring the game Elden Ring and its design. You can read the prior entry on the game’s many dungeons and bosses here.
Starting this piece I realized I may need to give myself a break before working on any further Piece-by-Piece follow-up series, writing them in full or mostly full before posting them onto the website. It’s not because keeping up with the weekly pace has been surprisingly difficult – though a sudden medical disruption threw me completely off track. I’ve otherwise been surprisingly more capable of keeping this up than any prior attempts at regular columns and series on this website! No, it’s more that my initial outline has not gone precisely where I first had anticipated it. I should have known this would happen, as it’s the same issue I frequently ran into when writing scripts for my video essays.
I emphatically agreed with Joseph Anderson when I watched his feature-length video essay on Elden Ring and declared the “final stretch” to be unreasonable. He had effectively illustrated how multiple later-game bosses were designed not for the combat stylings of Dark Souls, but Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice. I had also found other videos with similar titles and emphasis on the imperfection of the game. I had seen others express identical feelings regarding late stage bosses, and then would witness the mockery of these opinions in meme format on the game’s subreddit.
I would have kept on insisting that the game’s latter third or fourth is horrifically balanced, but at the same time I’ve admitted within this series that my Dex-build was an awful one. Just by swapping out to a strength build I’ve found much more success in damage scaling and poise-breaking with little adjustment to my overall playstyle and strategy. My knowledge has certainly deepened, turning a pair of once troublesome burial watchdogs into a piece of cake by disrupting one with crystal darts and turning them against one another. It’s an example of using a subtle and surprising game mechanic to make my second run through the game even “easier”, though I’m still primarily relying on basic melee attacks and spirit ashes in order to take out my foes.
YouTube channel Bellular News released a video this week wherein they discussed research performed regarding how video games of a certain type impact one’s mental health. Specifically, they wanted to target how “intrinsic” goals impacted players versus “extrinsic”, and therefore chose a wide selection of titles that had a series of motivators to try and encourage players to engage regularly.
To better summarize: how do live-service and similar models impact mental health?
I may find the thumbnails and titles of Bellular News videos to be unfortunate victims to YouTube algorithm manipulation, but the content is typically substantial and of great interest to me. As an independent development studio themselves, I find their insight can often be more enlightening than your average hobbyist industry commentator on the platform. In this instance, however, I feel as if they didn’t really dig in deeply enough. It makes sense that “intrinsic” goals – objectives that the player internally desires and yearns to work towards – are far more rewarding than “extrinsic” – assigned goals by the game in order to feed a progression loop. It somewhat makes sense that players that log in out of obligation would feel no sense of satisfaction or enjoyment, sometimes feeling worse for having played, than those that sign onto a game out of their own compulsion.
The problem is that there isn’t a close enough examination on how different rewards systems exploit the player rather than… well, reward them. It’s easy to try and paint battle passes and seasonal activities in a negative light due to their pressuring players with the fear of missing out; skins, cosmetics, or even activities are only active during this limited time, so you’d better log in if you’d like to earn them! However, this runs the risk of throwing the baby out with the bath water.
So, let’s consider these rewards systems a little bit more deeply and how some games may shift from intrinsic desire to extrinsic over time.
This article is the fourth in a series exploring the game Elden Ring and its design. You can read the prior entry on the adjustments made to combat here.
We’ve now approached the most mixed-of-bags in all of Elden Ring: not just the bosses, but the dungeons that house the majority of them. While there’s enough material to discuss both in isolation, I struggle to separate one from the other. They are where the greatest joy is to be had while also some of the greatest frustration. So many are uniquely designed and crafted and yet they are also incessantly repeated. They are what leave me asking if Elden Ring is, perhaps, too big of a game.
It was impactful to cross over into the rotted land of Caelid and see monstrous and mutated canines scattered across the landscape, overseen by uncomfortably disproportionate crows perched atop the trees. The overwhelming atmosphere indicates to the player that life is unwelcome there, and what creatures exist have been mutated into a grotesque new evolution whose only intent is to annihilate that which does not belong in those rotted plains and lakes. No corner of the land feels as unquestionably hostile as Caelid, and such unique creatures are essential to that identity.
Only you will see them again in later regions, one of which is completely blanketed in snow. Yes, the chill cold of the frozen north, white plains devoid of trees or grass, are often seen as regions hostile to life as well, but there’s also a serene beauty to them. A transcendent peace that contrasts greatly with the shape of a horrific, malformed, oversized dog. While I am certain fans can dig up some lore reason that these creatures prowl such different environments, I would argue that such lore exists solely to give context to recycled content that should have remained unique.
Perhaps, if From Software had allowed Elden Ring to be a bit smaller, they could have crafted more unique foes, dungeons, bosses, and locations. Would it have been an improvement? As all things discussed thus far, it depends on your perspective.
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