The following events recount the tragic tale of Blayt, the Viking who died at sea.
I start a nice game of Valheim. I make a decent (nothing too fancy) house in the meadow. Eventually, I beat the meadow boss and move on to the black forest. Since my meadow is on a body of water, and in the distance I can see a black forest, I make a raft. One morning, around day 20, I place that very raft in the water and sail across to the forest.
Upon arrival in the forest, I am greeted by 3 shaman greydwarves. I flee back into the water with my raft, and sail over shallow water about 50 meters to a small island. On this island, I place a workbench to repair my raft and make a base. Night falls. As I work, the same three shamans swim over to me. I fought them for sometime, but was unable to defeat them because they were continually healing one another. On my sprint back to the raft, I am greeted by a troll who was chasing the shamans who were chasing me. As I jumped to the raft, the troll stepped from the shallows connecting my island to the Black Forest and walked towards me. I put the raft into reverse and began to sail away.
However, Odin frowns upon running away. Lo and behold, the wind was against me! The troll walked into the water with his accompaniment of several shamans. The boat backed further and further away, but it was not fast enough. The troll struck at the boat, taking a third of its health. I began to turn the raft so the wind would carry me away, but the troll struck again. There was only one hit left and the boat would sink. I finally turned the boat far enough and the wind hit my sail. But the troll, determined to have me, began to swim. He was up to his neck in water, still chasing after my raft. Again and again I shot at him, but soon enough ran out of arrows. The troll took advantage of this and heaved up a mighty stone from the earth. He threw this over his head and it struck my boat. But wait! My raft survived! I unfurled the sails and gained enough speed to begin to leave the troll. I had forgotten one thing. The shamans who had been in pursuit of me for 5 minutes lifted their stones. And threw.
My raft sank into the ocean. As the last bit of wood sank from underneath my feet, I spotted a small rock jutting from the deep water. I swam to this, seeking refuge. But the shamans would not have this. I arrived at the rock and climbed up. Scared, alone, and wet, I sat upon the stone and stared at the world tree in the sky. I was surrounded by shamans and could not leave the rock. Then, in the distance, the shape of a trolls head formed out of the fog. As it approached my rock, I resigned my life to Odin and lifted my flint spear in challenge. The troll roared and lifted its log in response. And it one shotted me through my leather armor.
And so, Blayt died. Alone and cold in an ocean. Surrounded by shamans and trolls. Defeated. All of this is true, just as I say it. The events above took place in about two minutes of me screaming and sweating.