Odin's Finest

Valheim

Computer games (especially role playing ones) have a strange habit of stroking the gamer's ego by making out that they are some kind of chosen one.

Of course, in reality these games are often played by morons like myself who don't really know what they're doing and are barely muddling their way through the tutorial. You are apparently the best they have, yet often need to be taught how to walk, open doors or climb a ladder and often end up dying in really hilarious and stupid ways because you decided to run full-pelt off a cliff.

Valheim was no exception. My friends are I were apparently the finest warriors in Midgard, resurrected to fight for Odin himself. Yet, about 10 minutes in, we discovered that the most dangerous entities in the game were the trees sitting about the place which we, more often than not, ended up felling on top of ourselves or each other. Nothing is quite as harrowing as trying to figure out where your house should go when you see a chain-reaction of felled logs rolling down a hill at you and 3 corpses.

It's points like this where I wish games would drop its pretences and say "Look, I'm going to level with you... we're actually kinda desperate for warriors right now and were just picking anyone we could find. Do you think you could, y'know, not die so much and actually try to help us out here?"