It had been a tough couple of rounds for my clan of doomed horse Vikings.
The world-shattering war between the gods and chaos now blotted out the sun.
The heroes questing for the royal regalia were missing, presumed eaten by druids.
All of our goats had gone insane.
Six Ages 2: Lights Going Out.
I was, to quote my senior priest, “ivivm frrrrrl screwed.”
Do you, like me, suffer from save scum-itis?
ThenSix Ages 2: Lights Going Outmight be the cure.
And that includes the god of RNG.
The closest thing you get is the advice from your tribal council of advisors.
Woefully, their panicked ramblings are still more useful than looking for any advantage outside of the game.
This is in part thanks to some surprisingly forgiving gameplay mechanics.
But the world building does the heavy lifting when it comes to keeping the pressure off.
There’s little gloom to go with all that doom.
That’s just a Thor’s Day around here, buddy.
Slowly but surely, like water torture, this Beowulfian blase attitude trickled into my approach to the game.
Instead, it fast-forwards you to the endgame.
(A bad game will teach you how to crouch in a 40-minute long unskippable tutorial).
And it does the same to you.
Because its theme isn’t that this apocalypse is punishingly brutal – it’s merely fatal.
it’s possible for you to’t beat fate.
It turns out that this lesson counted double towards my reload reflex.
That promptly got me laughed out of their yurt with a ‘raid me’ sign taped to my back.
It was an actual box of s**t.
And I counted it as an absolute win.
Instead, this fatal RPG taught me to let go and embrace chaos.
(Some of the time.
I still save scum when trolls raid me three seasons in a row because frrrrl that.)
