Valheim Review

7MMO

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In the calming meadows where my journey in Valheim began almost six years ago, at the start of an Early Access expedition that has now finally come to an end, I came across a runestone in a lonely field bearing words I've been thinking about ever since:

A full belly
A full sail
The weight of a spear to your hand
And a song on your lips
Let all the mountains crumble
And the seas boil to salt
One day in the sun is a life well-lived


This is the essence of Valheim, the grim-eyed but warm-hearted Norse king of survival crafting games. For as harrowing as its dark dungeons and challenging bosses may be, and unforgiving as its extreme environments of fire and ice may seem, it's a saga about returning home with chips in your shield and blood on your face to sit around a roaring hearth fire – in contemplative solitude or with friends – and feel a bright stirring in your heart, knowing that you have conquered great foes and may now rest and revel. And in those slower moments I came to realize that this was truly the best the genre has ever been.


Valheim's art direction and world design give it a distinct identity from moment one. It has a deliberately lo-fi look with pixelated textures and not a lot of polygons to go around. But even so, it's truly a beautiful game. Every creature, sunbeam, and forested hillside is filled with a sort of fairy tale ambience that made me want to get lost in its procedurally-generated regions. And there's a lot to get lost in, from peaceful meadows to dreary swamps to snowy mountains. Every time I generated a new map, it impressed me with its scale and how it looked like it could’ve been hand-made. Because of the naturalistic, Northern European feel, it comes across as very cohesive and authentic.

The first time Valheim really made me go "Wow!" was when, after about 15 hours of preparing, I set sail on my own hand-built ship. Like a proper viking, your main method of long-distance travel is to take to the seas and riverways. The controls for steering are kind of clunky, and I love them for that very reason. Mastering the art of making tight turns and managing my speed was a satisfying skill-building exercise.

Realistic waves can bounce you up and down, and a sudden storm can even damage your vessel and force you to make for a safe harbor. The ever-changing direction of the wind is a constant consideration that may encourage you to go out of your way and discover something new rather than simply sail in a straight line. Having a ship makes it feel like a whole new world is opening up – and then it tries to eat you.

The improvements since its 2021 Early Access launch are too many to list.

The improvements to Valheim since its Early Access launch are really too many to list, even if you gloss over the obvious stuff like nearly doubling the number of biomes and bosses. Perfect dodges, trinkets, and even a magic system have made combat so much deeper and richer. One of my biggest complaints back in 2021 was that certain elements of progression could feel a bit grindy. But even that's adjustable now with fine-tuned difficulty settings. I found that a 3x resource drop rate made the pacing incredibly smooth for me as a solo player (especially while I was retreading the early areas I had already seen on an entirely fresh 1.0 world), though it might be a bit too much for a big group.

Each of the eight biomes is extremely distinct in terms of vibes, enemies, and geography. The bug-infested Mistlands have taken the place of the Swamps as my least favorite, with obnoxious terrain made even harder to navigate by dense fog, but they are beautiful to look at when you're not being swarmed. The Ashlands represent a dramatic escalation that really sells the thrill of entering the endgame with a jump in difficulty and foreboding volcanic landscapes.

As for the Deep North, I don't want to spoil too much of what secrets lie beyond its icy shores, but it really puts the ambition of all the other biomes to shame and leads into a conclusion worthy of a viking hero. I already loved Valheim's Norse aesthetics, and the Deep North is the most Norse it ever gets, so it really leans into its strongest visual and mythological themes right at the end.


For a game that already felt fairly complete in terms of both size and polish half a decade ago, Valheim 1.0 seems more like an instant classic from years back that's gotten three big expansions already, not a saggy skeleton of something that had the potential to be great that is now finally fleshed out. I feel completely spoiled by its finished scope. They've even added some really well-animated 2D cutscenes that play after each boss and announce the biome you're about to explore, which definitely help flesh out and keep up the momentum of the unfolding story.

Valheim's action hacking and slashing (and shooting) was familiar and invigorating to me as a modern action RPG player. It's not just "good enough for a survival crafter," either, with the same care and attention paid to it as any other system. With a wide variety of weapons and enemy types, elemental damage and resistances, and timing-based dodges and parries, it kept challenging me to sharpen my skills and learn new enemy patterns right to the end.

The satisfying, hectic, dramatic boss fights really demonstrate the strengths of this combat, even though it's occasionally obvious that their AI can't quite cope with the varied arenas you fight them in. Not only do they serve as climactic capstones to each area and tier of technology, they have highly distinct mechanics and gradually raise the skill ceiling needed to progress, which I found very rewarding. I do wish fully half of them were not resistant to pierce damage, though, since it feels a bit like saying, "No archery allowed past this point," especially with how long it takes for bow-wielders like me to get any significant upgrades to elemental damage in the mid-to-late game.

Among its most clever tricks is how hearty feasts tie directly into progression.

The randomized dungeons are also a treat, from werewolf-infested frozen cave systems to gooey insect hives, with each featuring a unique layout, loot, and challenges to navigate. The Plains and the Ashlands replace underground lairs with large, complex outdoor structures, which even further helps to keep things feeling unique. Laying siege to a charred fortress made the whole exploring and looting routine feel brand new again, even 80 hours in.

Among Valheim's most clever tricks is how your hearty feasts tie directly into progression. While you can skill up in different weapons and abilities, like running and swimming, your health and stamina meters are completely tied to what's in your belly. This means that "leveling up" mostly involves finding new ingredients and learning new recipes to ensure you're always as well fed as you can be. Valheim also wants you to eat a balanced diet. You can benefit from up to three types of food at any time, but stacking more than one of the same thing gives you no benefit.


All of this also made my character feel more alive and connected to the world, and it set Valheim apart from the rote, old-fashioned RPG progression routines where experience translates to levels, which then translate into more hit points and energy. There's something deliciously thematic about heading out to battle evil with a full stomach, a good night's rest, and a flagon of invigorating mead to quaff. It's a truly cozy warrior's paradise.

Of course, a cozy warrior needs a cozy hall to settle down in. Valheim is voxel-based, but it's also much more limited in how you can alter the terrain than something like Minecraft. It took me a while to master the little tricks needed to make a structure that doesn't clip into the ground or look like it's slightly floating. But once you do, you can construct some very impressive-looking stuff, and the in-depth system for weight and support beams means your buildings generally end up looking and feeling realistic and in keeping with the world around them. Far from a restrictive annoyance, I loved how this became like a puzzle that made me think the way actual medieval Norsemen might have when figuring out how to hold up a towering roof.There are plenty of different styles of building pieces as well, but I still wish we could get triangular or rounded floor tiles so it wasn't so hard to build something with anything but a perfectly rectangular footprint.

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