Blood. Lashings of the stuff. Rivers of crimson flooding Elden Ring from pillar to post, so deep that you'd be forgiven for thinking you're in the Lovecraftian throes of Bloodborne's Yharnam. But you're not. I'm not. I'm just about 400 hours lost in the Lands Between across multiple saves. And this one's my absolute favorite.
Don't you just think the Scarlet Rot is fascinating? I ask my girlfriend, who literally could not care less as she shakes her head and reminds me she's trying to watch Guy Ritchie's new thing on Netflix. But Miquella… I trail off as she shoots me a thousand-yard stare that'd leave even Malenia quaking in her greaves. I've been warned about this, you see. Several times. However I'm starting to think my infatuation with Elden Ring's twisted sickness cult has become more than an obsession. I think it might now be part of my personality. And now I'm seeing red in an entirely new way.
