header is screenshot from Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree
Boundless Appetites
Yussef Cole

“Seek Communion” intones the scaled and stony Dragon Communion Priestess, who tends an unholy flame at the base of Shadow of the Erdtree’s Jagged Peak. “Sate your boundless appetite.” Beckoning with an outstretched clawed hand fitted to a slender arm, she guides players to defeat her adversary, the dragon Bayle, who waits on the peak beyond. The priestess was once a dragon herself, a mighty behemoth, vast and proud. But she “… sacrificed that form for feeble flesh to aid in the destruction of Bayle the Dread,” as we learn from the heart she leaves behind. It is only by reducing ourselves, like Alice in her tiny Wonderland, into something frail and diminished that we may face the unique challenges to be found in the Land of Shadow.

Shadow of the Erdtree’s Land of Shadow is a place of death, sitting apart from the golden heights of Elden Ring's now-familiar Erdtree and its Lands Between. It’s smaller and more densely packed with dangers and treasure alike. Into it you dive, festooned with your late-game weapons and loot, in search of secrets, in search of answers, in search of a smaller form, a tighter space to squeeze yourself into, a snug-fitting iron maiden to make you feel something again; with its thorns, and its promise of release, of cool air hitting your skin as you finally break free, shattering the quiet of the place, and leaving its shards to fall glittering to the earth in your wake.

All around are messages, sometimes left by players, sometimes by this world’s architects. These little streaks of light illuminate the dark, and reveal the hidden, guiding your way forward like glowing breadcrumbs. They warn us of danger—“Use target lock”—and point out safe passage—“Here!” Overwhelming though this Land may be, it is equally comforting, wrapping you up in its arms, its spikes sinking in with an acupuncturist’s grace. It helps you feel release just as decisively as it clamps you in its iron jaws.

The bosses in Shadow of the Erdtree are unrelenting. They launch at you and deliver an endless succession of blows. Hasty swigs of the healing flask are cut short as your foolhardy Tarnished is cut down by the Putrescent Knight’s heavy cleaver, or Lord Midra’s barbed lance, or Rellana’s twirling blades. You roll away in vain, too slow and too short. You are swept up in the brutal maw of the Golden Hippopotamus, trampled beneath the hooves of Commander Gaiuses’ rampaging boar.

The numbers don’t add up. We mastered this game already, cleared multiple runs through it, thoroughly mapped the Lands Between. We came to this new place as conquerors, to claim yet another swath of territory, to check off its additional map markers and survey our domain. And we will, inevitably, run it all through at the sharp end of our indefatigable blade. But it will make us hurt first, make us hurt so good.

When reviewers first marked the expansion’s extreme plateau of difficulty, the FromSoft faithful jeered. When it was their turn to take a ride they revolted, throwing tantrums in their user reviews. They demanded a fairer game, something that felt more faithful to the original’s patterns and movesets. But the difficulty is the novelty here. How new, after all, can another castle feel, yet another cave? Rigid to formula as the From games tend to be, players have long internalized that they must expect a second enemy hiding out of sight, waiting for you to charge forward toward the obvious bait. Or to watch for that wicked hidden gap in the platform ahead, waiting to suck players down into an endless chasm. And so on. 

Series faithful know to look out for all of this, know how to navigate each type of architectural configuration, each aesthetic biome. When we clear the fog gate and approach the hulking behemoth waiting at the center of the circular arena, we think we know what to expect. We know that they will have feints and dodges and overhead slams. They will leave us space to hea—wait, why aren’t they letting up? Where’s the telltale gap, where’s the expected punctuation, as natural to every boss fight as a bonfire is to a settlement? I’ve got to get some distance. Maybe I’ll roll awa—oh my god, they punished my roll with another attack? What hot bullshit is this?! Devs? Broken game??

The promise extended between FromSoft and its players isn’t unlike the one “Kindly” Miquella makes to his own faithful. A beautiful vision, something different, something new; a fairer game, signifying a fairer world. But the promise is frail, and easily broken. The faithful want to trust it, they yearn to follow it. Just as everything else in the AAA games space reliably disappoints players, surely a FromSoft joint will come along and provide salvation. How bitterly they wring their hands and gnash their teeth as they repeatedly melt under the final boss’ area-of-effect attacks. Like a dominatrix who's thrown away the safe word, the game bends us over and takes strips off our flesh as we struggle and mewl.

We signed up for this, but we didn’t mean to sign up for this. We joined the grand adventure, for the promise of something different, something that would reignite sated and atrophied passions. With the golden order long conquered, we found this new pool of shadows, and sunk our hands deep. We stripped ourselves of our power, our overwhelming mastery, for the promise of getting to build it back up again. But we are vulnerable in our nakedness, uncertain in our faith. It’s dark here, and frightening, but here we remain. Our “boundless appetite” draws us in, past the lashes, looking for that shining, ephemeral thing, that only FromSoft can provide.

In the end, having memorized every last move and counter-move, we finally break free of the cage and stand in the silence of that freedom. It’s only then that we understand that we were being held. We surrendered our pride and our might all for that momentary embrace. And then we burned it all to the ground—again—not realizing that the promise had long been fulfilled.

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Yussef Cole, one of Bullet Points’ editors, is a writer and motion graphic designer. His writing on games stems from an appreciation of the medium tied with a desire to tear it all down so that something better might be built. Find him on Bluesky @youmeyou.bsky.social.