We fight for ruins. East Anglia is a world of mud and collapse, of bleak forests and treacherous fens. It is empty. It is quiet. Quiet except for the sound of iron against iron, the splintering of wooden gates giving way, and everywhere the screams and the yelling. A raid, Vikings stealing ashore to ransack a village and kill everyone that gets in their way. And when all the screaming and yelling is over? The ravens.
The ravens are the only real winners in East Anglia.
A tale of Midgard
Earlier this week I spent three hours with Assassin’s Creed Valhalla. I’ll say this up front: I’m very curious how people receive it, come release day.