Dark Souls Remix - I Had A Name

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Also on iTunes, Amazon, Google Play and Deezer on the album 'Legacy - Soulsborne Remixed'

Download this track from:

Update - Had a couple of requests regarding sheet music to play this song. I made a quick midi for someone a while back so anyone that wants it can also use it:

A remix of 'Nameless Song'. My last homage to Dark Souls before Dark Souls 2 comes out. I felt like I didn't cover Nameless much in my Artorias mix, it was just a small part at the end that could've been expanded. This is for all you Souls fans! Thank you so much for all the subs recently! :D

All music is copyright of their respectful owners.
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"Forgive me, I cannot remember your name."
"There is nothing to forgive, I cannot recall it either. I know I had a name once."
"Yes. So did I."

Kensen_Ackles
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Dark Souls is the pursuit of purpose in a purposeless world...

TheUhhoh
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This is incredible.









as usual

VaatiVidya
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This invokes the image of a Knight resting under a tree. His armor rusted and old, with plant life growing over him. His hand resting over his heart...

insomnish
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Farewell Dark Souls. You will be sorely missed. Another pilgrimage beckons.  May the Flames guide

tygravius
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This song mixed with the sentimental monologues in the comment section is the perfect example of why I love this game.

cokeMONSTERps
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Everytime I hear this, I think of Solaire to be honest. Just gazing at the sun, wishing to be acknowledged as a hero among heroes, with you as his only acquaintance who shared a journey with him when things looked bright. Through the times when you've fought unimaginable foes like Smough and Ornstein, and found a ray of hope. However that ray of hope faded, like the fake sun in Anor Londo. Through the heights and depths of Lordran he found nothing, not even hope, and in the end he was tripping through the crags, and branches in the dark depths of Lost Izalith. As he reached for what seemed to be the symbol of his hope, it was stomped on by you; his true friend who knew who he was, because you could never lie to Solaire. Through thick and thin you take on the most impossible challenge, you go to the beginning of all beginnings with Solaire to fight the thing he treasured the most; the Sun personified as a shell of an old man who lost everything.

SkysWeirdProductions
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It has been decades, centuries since you, the Chosen Undead, Linked the Fire.
The memories have long been forgotten and have faded with the passing of time, the once sturdy armour you wear has already fallen into disrepair and blackened by immolation from the flames, as for your trusty weapons, they have been marred by age, remaining both unused and unremembered by your side, yet despite all this, you feel as though they have never failed you, and that, in all their years, never have they betrayed you when times were tough and the stakes were dire, that they will fight with you until the very end.
That is the only thing you are sure of, for everything else seems distant and dreamlike, something from a past long ago, a past that belonged to someone else, perhaps a brave hero remembered for their valiant deeds and actions, perhaps an unknown stranger who took it upon themself to do what no others would or could do, you don't remember.
These thoughts drift through your ever-crumbling mind, and all the while disquiet and mental unrest looms ever closer, will these thoughts, will these possessions that once occupied another person's thoughts, in another age, in another time, even be of significance to you?
The end approaches now, you see the figure coming through the fog-filled archway facing the place you have waited and pondered all this time, they are here for something, they are here to meet you, for no one has visited this place for several lifetimes.
They draw their weapon, it is of an unusual design, as is their garments, but no matter, they are here to fight, for whatever reason, you no longer remember nor do you care, the answers have long lost their importance.
As they walk toward you with their guard up in a readied stance, their face filled with equal amounts of awe and defiance, you try to stand, it takes several long minutes, your armour clatters together as you shake off the thick layer of ash that has covered you for as longer than you can fathom.
You draw your weapon, it creaks and groans like an old beast nearing the end of its life, you try to flourish it, the movements embedded into your body, but your grip fails you, it has been too long since you last wielded it, the weapon falls to the ground weakly, for a long time you stare at it, trying to remember from whence it came from, out of the corner of your vision you see the figure relax and walks calmly, confidently towards you.
Still looking at the ground, you await the your inevitable fate.
They pick up the dropped weapon, testing its weight, you look up in surprise, grasping your hand, they place the weapon in your palm, you try to find the words to express your thanks, however having not spoken for so long you only manage a raspy groan, already the figure is taking their position a distance away, once again getting ready to fight you.
Now armed, you call up the last vestiges of strength in your body, the final traces of concentration and sanity to aid you in this battle, now blazing with old energies, you charge stone-faced towards your opponent, and they to you.

...

You find yourself face down in the ash covered ground, there is a pain emanating from somewhere on your body but it is fading quickly, you try to look up and see the victorious opponent walking towards the dying embers of the flame you have held watch over all this time, a fragment of memory strikes you suddenly, with the last remaining strength you have left, you crawl towards the base of a pillar that pierces up thought the ground, wiping away the charred face and ash, you uncover the writing scrawled onto the surface, you remember now, this was your name,
You had a name,
that was what as missing all along, a feeling of profound emancipation flows over your mind, and you realize, that with a name you can finally, rest.
Rest in the warmth, coming from the newly linked bonfire.
A well-earned rest, Chosen Undead.

Yep, I think this is definitely the theme that plays for the Chosen Undead's fight when its time for the arrival of the next successor to the Flame.

kamenprince
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I had a name.
Before the dark crept in and I lost myself.
I had a name.
Before being trapped in this endless cycle of death and rebirth.
I had a name.
Before being hauled off to an asylum to rot.
I had a name.
Before being chosen to fulfil a prophecy of which I knew nought.
I had a name.
Before perishing so many times I thought I would go mad.
I had a name.
Before facing the creatures of nightmares and losing myself to this quest.
I had a name.
Before facing the man whom I once thought a god, now reduced to a husk.
I had a name.
I had a name...

silversoldier
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The young traveller sighed. Where was he going again? Something... something about... a curse. Was that what he was running away from? Perhaps it was something he was running towards...
The boy was far beyond saving. His movements were slow like an old man's, as if the very air had the thickness of a spider web. His skin had turned to a shade of brown that even the crows had forsaken. Most of all, his eyes were turning gray, not unlike those of a dead fish.
He was hollowing from the inside. Now even the anxiety was fading; as he became oblivious to the notion that his mind was colapsing. For weeks he had screamed and moaned for his mother; now a stranger's name, sounding more and more like a scream of agony. No one had come but the dreaded men that had murdered him to harvest... something.
Something about a curse.
He was silent now. Laying down on his back under the rain.
Waiting for a death that could not come.
The young man put his hand in his pocket and felt it. He smiled one last time, and in a final spark of humanity, he whispered to himself: "I had a name".
A simple pendant with no effect.
Even so, pleasant memories are crucial to survival on arduous journeys.

GregTom
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Don't cry Havel, it's okay....don't profusely*

BishopHavel
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Dark Souls music: exists
Everyone: becomes Edgar Allan Poe

nguyenngo
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rest in peace and may your name never be of Astora.

megadragonking
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"My name...? I had a name... but it's gone. Just... drifted away, with the scent of air, the touch of another's hand, the taste of a favored food... It's funny. It ends up being the loss of all the little things that tears at you the most..."

Aeir
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We all had that moment during our journey.
All we wanted to do was give up... Let the hollowing take effect... But it never did...
We pushed forward, against all odds... We died... We failed... But we never stopped.
We all kept fighting to the bitter end, and when we finally fought Gwyn, we all put the pour souls to rest...

But from there, nobody knowns what happened... Some people claimed the chosen undead linked the fire... Others claimed that he or she let the fire die out... Not much was know about the chosen undead, not their gender, their personallity or their voice... They were nameless...

But the ironic thing is this: The one who succeded was forgotten, but the ones who failed were remembered... Siegmeyer... Oscar... Solaire... Many had sacrificed themselves to help the chosen undead...

But those people were the only ones who knew something about the Chosen Undead, they knew that he or she would never give up, which gave them a last dose of hope before hollowing...

stefanfr
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this reminds me of a reddit post. Two best friends played dark souls together. One got sick, and the other refused to leave his side. The sick one was determined to beat dark souls with his friend. And you know what? They did it. They beat that game and his wish was granted. His friend passed away about 2 hours later, in that hospital room with his friend.

I met the poster. He's a good guy and I respect this series. No matter in life or death, friendship is powerful. And love is the brightest flame there will ever be. you don't have to like my comment. Just let it hit you.


We miss you John. May you find your worth in this new life.

sunniestbro
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Good lord, the title and the song are tear-jerking.
An ode to Oscar.

OCMOOO
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I do believe...the curse has caught up to me.
What was the name of the man who started my journey?
He gave me the Estus Flask.
And he set me on the path that I have taken.
Such an important man...
Yet now his name escapes me as well...
And the man, searching for his own sun?
What was his name?
What became of him, again?
I sure hope he found his sun...
As I hope I find mine...
So long has my journey been...or...was it short?
What was my goal, again?
And...wait, why am I fighting this man?
Who is this man?
He's quite powerful indeed. A worthy foe.
But...but why?
I can't remember now...
Something about...about a curse?
My mind is fading. 
I feel it.
How ironic.
I've come so far to reclaim myself, but in the process, I have managed to completely loose myself. 
And now I fight a man with a burning soul.
And still, I do not give in. I do not drop my sword. 
Something inside of me demands I continue.
Perhaps I still retain some memorey, somewhere.
Is this the end?
I see now. 
The flame needs fuel. 
The first...first flame.
Yes, that it is.
The first flame must be relit. 
Of course.
It needs a soul.
A powerful soul.
A soul that has collected countless souls.
My soul. 
I am the fuel.
I had a name.
Once upon a time. 
Perhaps I will remember my name when I pass.
Perhaps one of the souls will whisper my name into my ear as my body burns to ash. 
Rergardless, we must light the flame.
For everyone who has helped me reach this point.
For all the lives that I had changed on my journey.
And for the lives who fell because of it.
For all the souls I have collected to reach this point.
And for those who shall come after, that they may not suffer empty immortality. 

prophetofdoom
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We all have a name...but slowly...over time..the voice that once beckoned that _very_ name..is drowned..by the sands of time, until that _very_ name that once resonated in the hearts of many...is a shadowy murmur, a faded thought, a sad and tiresome burden that brings us a longing & forgotten sorrow that begs our poor, old, scarred heart to remember, and it's beckoning...goes unheard, ignored, abandoned....and is _forgotten..._



ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ....ɪ..ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ...

MrRobot
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"Ah...my name you ask? I had a name once...but I've died so many times I've forgotten it...now, go along and just...don't end up like me, will you? No one wants to end up hollow...."

elementalprime