4Game

I'm still newish in Valheim and don't have any impressive builds, mods, or achievements to showcase. At least not yet. I am still only a humble merchant of Norse-themed tales – may they provide entertainment to some of you. Oh and I have resin. If anyone needs several planets' worth of resin, hit me up.

The atmosphere in the tenth world still surprises me with its understated beauty. Despite my still humble lodgings and fairly repetitive days (I'm just mining lots of copper and tin), low-poly Viking Andur doesn't struggle to find motivation to go about his business. He often feels the need to have a nice, fat sit, and just take in the natural beauty of the meadows and even the Black Forest.

Most mornings start by awakening from frantic dreams, probably mediated by the high concentration of carbon monoxide in the cabin, produced by the campfire burning in the sunken pit in the floor. Don't fret reader, this is good for Andur's endurance. If he's experiencing reduced oxygenation while sleeping, he can sprint that much better during the day, in the clear air of the forest.

You see, the floor-plan of my first residence takes efficiency to the extreme; the sole chamber houses the bedroom, living room, warehouse, kitchen, and brewery. The constant bubbling of Andur's brand new fermenter at the foot of the bed not only provides white noise that covers up the CONSTANT GOD-DAMNED GURGLING SOUNDS THE NECKS MAKE, but also a gentle, all-natural aroma that promotes deeper sleep. There are no essential oil diffusers in Valheim, so we make do with what we can.

I have grand plans for my future base of course, but in the meantime I have to ensure Stake-town is well protected and maintained. Once Andur finally gets his slow Viking ass outside, he usually checks on the bounty provided overnight by the smelter; a small shiny avalanche of ingots. These, and any coal, go into the designated metallurgy chest. The sole beehive, a long-term resident of Stake-town, usually has at least one 'comb for Andur to munch on, first thing in the morning. Its positioning right next to the smelter ensures that the honey is fortified with metals – as is required for any healthy Viking.

A quick inspection of the carrot farm sandwiched behind the back of the lodge and the wooden pallisade usually reveals that at least 3 of the 9 carrots are having a good time. Most of them are unfortunately quite introverted and "need more space" to thrive – who knew? Andur has not yet tasted this particular bounty of the earth, but he's not that interested in roots to be honest. He's a muscular man after all, not some common boar. Besides, having listening to far too many podcasts, Andur is currently on the carnivore diet (+honey).

Once the inspection of the immediate premises is complete, Andur climbs to the top of a poorly-supported defense platform on the interior of one of the walls. He has an eagle-eye view in all directions, enabling him to laugh at retreating stickmen whilst munching on his morning honey and boar meat. What's wrong Greydwarf, you don't like getting poked by my sharpened implements made from your brothers? Anyway, Andur can watch the docks from here, where Kailey Karve the Second is bobbing up and down serenely.

After a short contemplation of the long list of tools, weapons, and armor that will one day grace my inventory (once I have enough bronze), Andur is off to the nearby Black Forest again, to strike the earth and stab Necks (the animal) with his shiny new Copper Knife.

This where you'd think boredom would set in; after all, I'm just going to the Black Forest over and over again, slowly exhausting every copper ore node that I can find, but you'd be wrong. Dead wrong.

The mundanity of everyday life for Andur while he tries to enter the Bronze Age has not bothered me one bit. This world still holds so many simple pleasures, like kicking Greydwarfs into the ocean when they interrupt my mining. More importantly, Valheim has managed to persuade me to take my time and take in the surroundings. I also enjoy the less violent simple pleasures that the forests have to offer; bird calls, the rustling of the leaves, the crunch of a Greydwarf's face, as it caves in from Andur's boot. A fitting punishment for constantly interrupting the fucking tranquility of the natural world.

After a satisfying number of pings from bronze cracking open the earth, Andur sets off to return home for an afternoon or evening of smelting, and the promise of his first ever sip of mead in the near future. All of this mining has made me feel a lot more comfortable in the Black Forest. I initially had to sneak everywhere, because I was terrified of what the gangs of bonemen could do to me, but now I run around with impunity. Most of the bonemen have been converted to shield and armor upgrades anyway. Reuse, Recycle, Reduce.

I now enjoy the deep gullies and ominous towers of the Black Forest, which seem to always have some amount of fog around them. The dark green of the fir canopy, broken up by the various blues; thistles, glowing ruins, blueberries, and the dozens of discarded Greydwarf eyes. I love the crunch that the nests make after sufficient poking with my spear.

The only real remaining threats to Andur are some of the trolls, and the Godsforsaken shaman. The latter is more of a nuisance than anything else, especially when accompanied by a gang of the asshole stickmen. Nothing a few flint arrows between the eyes can't fix, I know, but every now and then poor Andur gets caught in the disgusting stream of what I assume is old bong-water.

The trolls are a slightly different story. The first time I encountered one caused sufficient psychological damage to ensure I would steer clear of the Black Forest for a while. A tale for another time perhaps. I'm much more comfortable taking them down now; either with a bow and flint arrows, or some carefully-timed rolls around the ankles and some pokes with a sharp spear. However, I'm sometimes still disturbed by how quietly they can sneak up on Andur when he's busy mining, and by how fast they can cover distance. Either way, they're not the massive existential threat now that they used to be. The rule I apply is "No tree? No problem". I don't particularly enjoy being converted to a pancake in two hits by the log-wielding troll variant, but the boulders are easy enough to dodge.

With that tirade complete, all that's left to say is that I utilise the journey back to base to get Andur some swimming practice. I get the feeling that a high swim skill will come in handy later, particularly when I have enough nerve to tackle the big bad Ocean. I also enjoy the water physics greatly. The fact that it physically bobs up and down the edge of a boulder, such that if you don't time your approach properly you can't actually get out of the water? Chef's kiss.

Andur likes to take some time and sit on top of a boulder after his swimming is complete, to contemplate the vastness of this world, and the possibilities it contains. He keeps his troll leather gear on while swimming (this builds better endurance) and enjoys the cooling sensation that the wet armor provides, as it air dries. He's a bit strange, but Andur would like you to know, dear reader, that it's not in a weird fetish way.

That's about all I have to say on the matter of a typical, non-adventuring day, in Valheim. Life is simple and mundane on some days, but it can still be beautiful.

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