Make Your Fights Like the "Soulsborne" Games

Intensifying fantasy combat scenes

(Pictured above: Siegward of Catarina from Dark Souls III; characters wearing this type of armor set are affectionately referred to by fans as “Onion Bros”)

For my first official content post I wanted to talk about some ideas I’ve had recently about the technical aspects of one of the main genres I write in. I’ve practiced Asian and European martial arts for over a decade and strive to write engaging combat scenes in my stories. What better way to kick off a Substack with “Swords” in the title than a piece about combat?

A vital component to the success and attraction of a sword & sorcery (s&s) fantasy¹ story is at least one fight scene. Combat is what distinguishes s&s—without it, the “sword” part is pretty much useless. Usually magazines and anthologies specializing in this subgenre of fantasy specify wanting visceral action in stories submitted to them. Reading foundational s&s authors (Robert E. Howard, Fritz Leiber, etc.) is a good place for writers to understand what these publishers are familiar with and how to begin exercising with tailoring prose for combat. However, relying on these conventions may breed imitation; as with most things in the craft, if a writer does not venture into rougher waters, it is difficult to train his own voice.

When it comes to combat, finding ways to make it feel authentic can be difficult. In an age of relative peace it is unlikely most writers would bear witness to injuries or situations related to combat or physical hazards. This can vary based on a writer’s background, occupational experience, or environment. For those who have seldom experienced violence the challenge comes in finding experiences where writers can (without getting in trouble with the law) translate the thrill, anxiety, and results of violence into attention-gripping prose for s&s stories.

One of the first steps to adapting to this challenge would of course be to reach out to fellow writers who can and are willing to speak on personal experience. However, this is definitely not new information and hinging on singular experiences writers read or inquire about also falls into the imitation trap. The title of this piece may also hypocritically encourage imitation, but I at least wanted to offer another variation of drawing inspiration rather than simply relying on cribbing other authors’ styles or other peoples’ lived experiences.

Video games are one of the most popular art forms² my generation (Gen Z/Millennials) engages with. The storytelling and writing itself may be where writers of my generation gather ideas for their own stories. This piece, however, focuses on combat and gameplay from one particular series that writers may use as inspiration for giving more weight to fight scenes.

The Dark Souls franchise, developed by From Software, gave rise to the Soulsborne³ style of games (the -borne part comes from the standalone game Bloodborne, also by From Software). One of the hallmarks of these games is their combat difficulty. The fighting itself is not accurate to real world combat, and the limitations of it being a video game would not translate smoothly into prose. What I do believe writers can take from the Soulsborne games is the approach and philosophy of combat encounters from the games and their contrast with moments of peace.

Soulsborne combat encounters can be heavily taxing for the underprepared and the overconfident. Resolving most encounters requires players to understand their opponents’ fighting patterns, weaknesses, and their own capabilities. Diving into hordes of foes and attacking recklessly guarantees failure and player character death at worst, or a complete waste of resources at best. In any case, players are usually outmatched in some way when it comes to enemies in Dark Souls, whether that be in numbers, strength, or skill. It becomes integral to the gameplay to learn how to react to these opponents and encounters in order to succeed. A common word that describes the very nature of From Software games, even beyond combat, is “unforgiving.” The world and enemies have no regard for the feelings of the player or the struggle of the player character; everyone has equal opportunity to fail in Soulsborne games if they cannot rise above the challenge. Although in-game statistics can provide a small boost to player characters’ success, it mainly relies on the individual skill of the players themselves (irrespective of game mechanics).

One merciful aspect of the Soulsborne games are the checkpoints where player characters may rest, heal, and organize before delving back into the unforgiving world. These most famously take the form of bonfires in the Dark Souls games. These checkpoints are safe zones that aid in traversing the worlds of these games, but players cannot progress by simply remaining at them.

We can apply the gameplay to sword & sorcery stories where protagonists also find themselves outmatched in some form, whether fighting multiple enemies like Conan during the coup in “Phoenix on the Sword”, supernatural threats immune to mundane (or even some magical weapons) like the reptilian monsters from the third act of Sailors on the Seas of Fate, or men who rival the protagonist in skill. The enemies’ goal is to defeat the protagonist, much like enemies in Soulsborne games. The protagonists, as well, are committed to defeating these enemies and are driven by goals of their own.

Furthermore, when s&s protagonists reach a point of rest, they might indulge greatly in the appetites of drinking, eating, and sex before venturing out into danger again. Their spaces of safety are few and far between compared to the deadly encounters they have roaming the lands.

Although most video games present opponents with similar intentions these do not come with the same intensity native to From Software games. Ubisoft games, for example, have entirely on-the-rails gameplay and provide many conveniences for players. In terms of combat, many players of the Assassin’s Creed games have pointed out the tendency for enemies to attack the player character one person at a time. By contrast, enemies in Soulsborne can easily overwhelm players with sheer numbers.

This is also apparent in some fight scenes in film, television, and even in prose works; time or logic seems to slow down around protagonists if they are engaged in a combat situation. Opponents take their time in attacking rather than seizing opportunities to overwhelm and kill or subdue their target. This is painfully apparent in later seasons of Game of Thrones such as the fight with Jamie Lannister and Bron versus the Sand Snakes, Tormund being overwhelmed by wights, and other countless examples in the Battle of Winterfell.

A pattern I have noticed in these scenes is that the actions are drawn out, exaggerated, and slant towards the convenience of the protagonists; somehow opponents become incompetent or ineffectual enough to fail at accomplishing their goals. Their movements are sluggishly choreographed and the protagonists are beyond lucky to not even have a scratch on them. Any Soulsborne player may admit that they can go from a no-hit run against a boss to dying after failing to check around a corner for a measly, hidden ghoul.

It is natural for the audience and the writer to want the protagonist to succeed, and protagonists should in most cases. The issue comes when protagonists finally do enter combat and the danger slips away. Every encounter in Soulsborne games has the potential to kill a player character, the same should apply to s&s stories. Protagonists can be the toughest S.O.B.s that ever lived but should still have their abilities and limits challenged. For as much criticism as it gets, “Xuthal of the Dusk” at least shows Conan nearly getting slaughtered in his fight against the monstrosity Thog. For all his expert fighting skills and herculean strength, Conan emerges from the fight against this inhuman menace like so:

The manhandling the Cimmerian had received was appalling to behold. At every step he dripped blood. His face was skinned and bruised as if he had been beaten with a bludgeon. His lips were pulped, and blood oozed down his face from a wound in his scalp. There were deep gashes in his thighs, calves and forearms, and great bruises showed on his limbs and body from impacts against the stone floor. But his shoulders, back and upper-breast muscles had suffered most. The flesh was bruised, swollen and lacerated, the skin hanging in loose strops, as if he had been lashed with wire whips. (Howard, 1933)

If we compare this image to a Soulsborne player character coming off the heels of a boss fight, then this would be the instance many players who engage with these games would say they “get” what Soulsborne games are about. It is the feeling of fighting a difficult boss, perhaps after many, many tries, expending all your Estus Flasks (healing potions), and having only a fraction of health left but still managing to land the killing blow. In the heat of the fight, every strike counts; you feel the elation when landing a critical strike against a boss, and equally feel the dread each time the boss damages your character, healing, resources, and levelheadedness dwindling. The games aren’t able to display what this damage looks like on player character models, but players themselves can feel the relief and exhaustion in the wake of these boss battles. Much like after Conan’s fight with Thog, he is rewarded with healing and respite. He is given a few brief moments of pleasure and safety before he must venture further through the dangerous world he occupies. This is essentially his bonfire following a difficult boss fight. Conan has a mission that lies beyond the confines of succor and he must wander with his companion until they reach the end. This fight was only one part of the journey in reaching his true goals, and if he failed it would have brought an end to his wandering.

This is the kind of feeling s&s writers should strive to implement in their stories. That’s not to say every story you write should be stuffed to the brim with fight scenes, but any you do include should matter.

These types of combats are most effective when the action is very concentrated on the protagonists and his opponents. Although there may come times when he becomes overwhelmed, it is best to start with one or a mere handful of combatants. It helps narrow down the scope and logistics so when it comes to describing your fights it feels less like a summary of a turn-based combat and more of a recount of a duel or man backed into a corner, fighting off a gang of foes. Focus on how the combatants are acting and reacting; it doesn’t have to be blow-for-blow descriptions, but definitely provide visual of the most critical strikes—the ones that break swords, shatter shields, narrowly miss the heart or throat, or intense binds where an opponent’s blade is bearing closer to the hero’s skull.

Every successful strike made by the protagonist or his opponents should have weight; human bodies are paradoxically tough and fragile, and one nasty wound could spell the end for a warrior rippling with muscles. Heroes should be comfortable with their skills but be flexible enough to change if they find an obvious weakness in their foes’ fighting styles. Similarly, enemies should be smart enough to punish the protagonist if they witness an opportunity. As mentioned above, a Soulsborne player’s luck can quickly change if they’re careless or unprepared.

Action in the midst of combat should flow. Everyone is in the encounter for a reason, wants something out of it, and will do anything to achieve victory, regardless of the protagonist’s or the readers’ feelings.

The heroes should emerge with scars or strains on their resources. Although your original heroes are likely going to appear in a series of stories, they should be entirely mortal and susceptible to injury. The archetypal Irish (or even broader Celtic) hero has no forms of invulnerability, through magical means or otherwise. Cú Chulainn, famously, sustains massive injuries during the events of the Táin Bó Cúailnge (“The Cattle Raid of Cooley”) and his wife Emer comments on the scars riddling his body in Fled Bricrend (“Bricriu’s Feast”).⁴

Although the player characters in Soulsborne find safety at bonfires, it’s made painfully clear that these are just markers in a long and winding road; the world remains dangerous and doesn’t make exceptions for the player’s previous exploits and efforts. Your s&s heroes, in each important combat of their stories, should be met with potential life-ending threats, and use what means they can to survive.

I am interested to know what my readers think of this advice. Is there anything you would add or change? If you also write combat scenes, what are some examples you draw upon for making tense, engaging fights? Feel free to share your comments below!

Be sure to like and share this post as well if you found it helpful or think a fellow writer might be looking for some inspiration. Thank you for reading, and spread the lore!

1. Also called Heroic Fantasy. For recent, in-depth explanations about this fantasy subgenre, I recommend seeking out scholarly works by Jason Ray Carney, PhD. and Flame and Crimson by Brian Murphy (2020).

2. Despite what George R. R. Martin claims about video games “not being art yet”, I believe that they have long since ascended into art.

3. I’m not going to be giving a history lesson on the Soulsborne games here.

4. Using Celtic heroes’ exploits and models and inspiration for protagonists is ripe ground for a future post.