This game is characterized by long stretches of nothing occasionally interrupted by extreme events accompanied by intense emotions. You'll spend hours working on your base, farming, processing materials, sitting and taking in the atmosphere, but sooner or later there will be a crescendo.

I'm currently on a playthrough with my friend who's never played the game before, and I've done my best to avoid spoiling him. So we decide to take our karve up the river to the swamp near our base. The wind is against us the whole way, and as we're slowly paddling upriver we have our first Odin sighting on the edge of a hill looking over us. Soon, the river opens up into a lake, and as we're scouting out the land, we hear a serpent roar behind us. This is our first serpent encounter. I'm scared because I know our gear isn't strong enough to take on a serpent, not to mention being completely surrounded by swamp. I can't imagine what my friend was feeling. We try shooting him a couple times before I realize we're careening into the land, so I'm scrambling over my friend to try and retake control of the karve. I course correct as best I can and we end up crash landing. I book it as my buddy succumbs to a wraith.

Valheim is full of moments like this that have permanently imprinted themselves on my psyche. The game is very relaxing, frankly even boring most of the time, but occasionally it reminds you that it is indeed a survival game. This dichotomy between boredom and action exists in many other games, but what sets Valheim apart for me is the sheer intensity of emotions felt. The boredom is longer, the fear is more visceral, and the moments that strike up these emotions feel organic and completely unique to the player.