Elden Ring borrows—grafts, really—elements from all of these games together. But it’s Bloodborne that’s really the reason for this game being the open world that it is. In Chalice Dungeons we saw a purity of form that the Soulsborne micro genre was poised to capitalize on, but couldn’t quite deliver. Procedural dungeons accessed from a menu. A place where minibosses and remixes of bosses would flourish, where the skill of dungeon-delving players could be tested and rewarded repeatedly. Not necessarily a haven for more lore, but for the most stalwart of players there would be deep thematic resonance at the end. But really, sick dungeons for the sake of sick dungeons.
Elden Ring says “what if we took the lessons we learned from Chalice Dungeons…and that was the game.” An open world, after all, is only as good as the dark holes that perforate its beautiful surface, the land is only as interesting as its scars.
And these dungeons, especially the big ones, are compelling like no other.
The first step was to throw out the procedural dungeons. They were fine, perfectly serviceable in Bloodborne. And no doubt developing that system and studying the output only deepened their understanding and resolve. But this is the moment where Brick Road becomes Dungeon Man. This is the apotheosis in this work—the exaltation of the dungeon designer.
Switchbacks that lead to dead ends that beget traps that culminate in pitfalls back to the beginning (or your doom, who can say?). Impossible ambushes that even on the 9th death still steal your breath. Forcing the player to choose between a shield, a second weapon, and the absolutely crucial torch—except, what if the torch gives you away? Can you navigate a maze in the dark? And verticality, oh, the verticality!
For as much as I can take or leave the open world of Elden Ring, the dungeons, dear reader, have given me more life than a million Dark Souls.