The war action wasn't as visceral as that found in Clash of Clans. The game was like a massive board game digitized inside my iPhone. The controls, features and details looked complex and not exactly user intuitive. Then I turned off the game, unsure whether I liked it, wondering if I would delete it later. When it asked me for a clan description, I wrote simply, “Viking enthusiasts in the U.S., Scandinavia and beyond.” I came up with the clan name “NRDIC: Nordic Onslaught” totally unaware that an “onslaught” is a feature of the game whereby players can team up for a massive attack on another player. I particularly disliked the top clan, which called itself “LAWD: Hail Satan.” So I selected the option to create my own clan. Scanning the list of clans, I didn’t like any of their names.

After naming myself “Jarl Glader,” building a simulated Viking town, selecting a name for my champion fighter or “hero” (I named him “Sven” after my great-grandfather, who also came from a small town called Palang, Sweden, to the upper Midwest of America in the 1920s), the sultry avatar asked me to select a “clan” in my Kingdom #157 (Myderig) to join.

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