So, I found the COTA mod for DS3 on nexusmods (it has a single link for download only, no actual mod page: =files&file_id=3079), and i even got it to launch with an old .exe file of darksouls3 since the new isnt supported yet or something. BUT when I try to load/create a new character, it always loads, but then abruptly crashes. I saw a french dudes video on how to install it, but he said that an update file was necessary for it to work, but since the page doesnt exist anymore, I can't download it. ( =KChklgOGc2I thats the yt video)

Spawned by the dark sorceries of Manus, the essence of primordial humanity proliferated. Humans spread and grew as the gods slowly, but surely, began to go extinct. The Dark Soul, which was the Lord Soul possessed by Manus, is the origin of all human souls, making them children of The Abyss. Humanity is described as shards of this ancient and powerful source. Although The Abyss can eventually warp and mutate some people, as it can do with gods and dragons, humans are more resistant to its effects and can in fact use its power to strengthen themselves.


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In fear of the First Flame going out, Gwyn threw himself into the Kiln of the First Flame to prolong the Age of Fire, as did many after him. Though, the First Flame was not meant to burn forever. The Dark Sign, which is an integral symbol in all games of the series, is a combination of light and dark. It is a ring-shaped curse given to the undead which saps them of both Humanity and souls when used. It represents a cycle, like that of the world. Fire is meant to fade into the dark so that it may be ignited again one day. A persistent flame ruins the cycle, which causes the dark to grow rampant and wild due to nature, trying to right the wronged cycle.

In Psalm 42:7, "deep calls to deep" (referring to the waters), or in Latin abyssus abyssum invocat, developing the theme of the longing of the soul for God. Cassiodorus relates this passage to the mutual witness of the two Testaments, the Old Testament foretelling the New, and the New Testament fulfilling the Old.[6]

The expansion introduces a new chapter called the Artorias of the Abyss, occurring after Sen's Fortress, in which the player must stop the spread of darkness within Lordran by defeating the Dark Knight Artorias.

The mystics of Clan Lasombra pry into the dark places in search of secrets, answers, and perhaps more questions. For these driven souls, conventional Obtenebration is only the beginning. By applying thaumaturgic principles to Obtenebration, Lasombra mystics of the Dark Ages developed rituals to unlock the hidden powers of shadow and summon the unnamed primordial horrors of the Abyss, thereby effectively extending Obtenebration into a form of blood sorcery.

I drink a second mouthful, in which Ifind nothing more than in the first, a third, which gives me rather less thanthe second. It is time to stop; the potion is losing its magic. It is plainthat the object of my quest, the truth, lies not in the cup but in myself. The tea has called up in me, but does not itselfunderstand, and can only repeat indefinitely with a gradual loss of strength,the same testimony; which I, too, cannot interpret, though I hope at least tobe able to call upon the tea for it again and to find it there presently,intact and at my disposal, for my final enlightenment. I put down my cup andexamine my own mind. It is for it to discover the truth. Buthow? What an abyss of uncertainty whenever the mind feels that some partof it has strayed beyond its own borders; when it, the seeker, is at once thedark region through which it must go seeking, where all its equipment willavail it nothing. Seek? More than that: create. It is face to face withsomething which does not so far exist, to which it alone can give reality andsubstance, which it alone can bring into the light of day.

Will it ultimately reach the clearsurface of my consciousness, this memory, this old, dead moment which themagnetism of an identical moment has travelled so farto importune, to disturb, to raise up out of the very depths of my being? Icannot tell. Now that I feel nothing, it has stopped, has perhaps gone downagain into its darkness, from which who can say whether it will ever rise? Tentimes over I must essay the task, must lean down over the abyss. And each timethe natural laziness which deters us from every difficult enterprise, everywork of importance, has urged me to leave the thing alone, to drink my tea andto think merely of the worries of to-day and of my hopes for to-morrow, whichlet themselves be pondered over without effort ordistress of mind.

And suddenly the memory returns. Thetaste was that of the little crumb of madeleine whichon Sunday mornings at Combray (because on thosemornings I did not go out before church-time), when I went to say good day toher in her bedroom, my aunt Lonie used to give me,dipping it first in her own cup of real or of lime-flower tea. The sight of thelittle madeleine had recalled nothing to my mindbefore I tasted it; perhaps because I had so often seen such things in theinterval, without tasting them, on the trays in pastry-cooks windows, thattheir image had dissociated itself from those Combraydays to take its place among others more recent; perhaps because of thosememories, so long abandoned and put out of mind, nothing now survived,everything was scattered; the forms of things, including that of the littlescallop-shell of pastry, so richly sensual under its severe, religious folds,were either obliterated or had been so long dormant as to have lost the power ofexpansion which would have allowed them to resume their place in myconsciousness. But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after thepeople are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, still, alone, morefragile, but with more vitality, more unsubstantial, more persistent, morefaithful, the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls,ready to remind us, waiting and hoping for their moment, amid the ruins of allthe rest; and bear unfaltering, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of theiressence, the vast structure of recollection.

Underground, a magical fire, called the First Flame, suddenly sparked, attracting many humanoid creatures. This legendary Flame created the dichotomies between light and dark, and life and death. Essentially, it put time in motion. Three creatures went into the Flame and claimed a Lord Soul. Gwyn took the Lord Soul of Light, while the Witch of Izalith took the Soul of Life. Nito claimed the Soul of Death. This granted them great power, turning them into living gods.

In this universe, a little village called Oolacile sits atop the Abyss. This Abyss can be described as the darkness found within all mankind, and it could threaten to snuff out the First Flame if left unchecked. There's also Kaathe, the primordial serpent who often exhibits his desire to see the Age of Fire end. He convinces the people of Oolacile to go into the Abyss and dig up the grave of Manus, the primordial man. The creature goes wild when he's awakened, causing his Humanity to spiral out of control. This event exacerbates the growth of the Abyss.

He has been an inspiration to me in a very special and peculiar way. I began reading his poetry years ago at a time when I was almost overwhelmed by a sense of isolation and self-doubt. I had bitter conviction that I was shut out forever from the immense fields of human activity. Many people doubted even the simplest things that I could do. Even when I wrote an article about the blind and blindness; they asked what I could know about life! Full of physical health and spiritual impulse, I tugged and strained at the bars and bolts that would hold me within what was said to be my only world -- silent darkness. Then I read Whitman's thrilling "Song of the Open Road," glorifying the progression of souls through the universe. My spirit leaped up to meet his faith in the power of each individual to master circumstances. He stimulated me to new thought, enlarged my heart with new feeling and gave me a new zest and courage of life. It seemed as if a keen blast of sea air had freshened my whole being. I realized that no imprisoning conditions could beat back my spirit if I believe in myself and made allowance for others doubting me too. From that time I ordained myself "loos'd of limits and imaginary lines." I realized that if I could not do some things, I could do essential things -- listen to others, search, receive, thing (sic) .... carry brave sympathy in my heart for causes that I might not actively advance. I sensed a something that seemed to cancel physical limitations -- what shall I call it? I was moved forward towards the great, the endless -- to see no darkness anywhere but I might pierce it, to find no silence, however deep, but I might hear through it a new message of divine things -- to conceive no obstancles (sic) however great, but I might reach them and pass them. Instead of sensing a tumultuous, chained body I thrilled to a mind endowed with all the fulness (sic) of consciousness and will! That was before I had received the message of true democracy, and since then vision and ;ersevering (sic) effort to obey its call have been the stay and justification of my life. )Put (sic) this new sentence before the last one. He stimulated my imagination; I felt the potent urge of his spirit to go on thinking about a world that is full of wonderful things.

)Go (sic) on after justification of my life (sic) With Whitman I fare forth in the dark to prove that my spirit is equal to the world. I will know the heart of the flower I pluck, its form, its fragrance and the fluent life that runs like fire through its petals folded bright. The flower's heritage is the earth -- and the universe is mine! I will invade every darkness that oppresses the eyes of men, I will fight every silence that stops the ears of one to the joys and sorrows of another. I WILL break the spell that keeps human lips dumb with fear or betrays them to a denial of their faith. So together we fare forth to rouse souls that try to remain as in a sleep, to shut up their bloom, their music, their beauty, their humanity! So with hearts throbbing high we walk the open road together with free stride, the zest of life in our veins, the rolling earth under our feet, the flashing, youthful play of winds around us, partakers of creation's primal bliss! 2351a5e196

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