Number One — Dark Souls - We Are

"Now look at this ring, that I just found,When I say 'go,' drop the host on the ground!GO!" He tumbles off a ledge into the New Londo ruins. "Ugh, let's try something else."

He hands out the Cracked Red Eye Orbs with a flair,"Now sneak through the Parish, give the clerics a scare!Don't touch the bonfire! Don't look at the flame!We’re playing a different, more mischievous game."

The fading fire crackles one last time. From the shadows of the Kiln, a familiar figure emerges—not a Lord of Cinder, but a trickster in stripes. He holds a chin of pure determination and a saxophone forged in the Abyss. dark souls - we are number one

With a "Hey!" and a "Ho!" and a backstab or two,They’ve painted the Undead Burg a deep shade of blue.The fire is gone, and the dark has begun,Because Robbie of Astora is Number One.

"Listen close!" cries the Villain, with a grin wide and bright,As he teaches the Chosen how to douse out the light."If you want to be a Dark Lord, the number one soul,You’ve got to catch a Sunbro and take back control!" "Now look at this ring, that I just

Should we draft a with another gaming icon, or perhaps write a villainous guide to surviving Anor Londo?

In the land of Lordran, where the hollows weep,A legend awakens from centuries of sleep.Not Gwyn with his lightning, nor Artorias the Brave,But a man with a plan, rising straight from the grave. From the shadows of the Kiln, a familiar

They creep through the swamp where the poison runs deep,While the Maneater Mildred is fast in her sleep."Shh! Don't make a sound! Don't trigger the trap!" Step. The sound of a parry echoes like a thunderous clap.