Vermintide 2 How To Kick Players
Ah, the glorious, chaotic world of Warhammer: Vermintide 2. It's a place where you and your mates (or, let's be honest, some random strangers you've just met in the heat of battle) band together to fend off hordes of squirming, chittering Skaven and brutish Chaos warriors. You’re hacking, slashing, blowing things up, and generally trying to survive. It’s a wild ride, full of triumphant moments and… well, moments where you might wish certain individuals weren't quite so present.
Now, let’s talk about a rather delicate subject. In the midst of a frantic fight for survival, sometimes a player just… isn’t pulling their weight. Maybe they’re constantly getting downed, or perhaps they’ve developed a peculiar fascination with staring at walls instead of the encroaching tide of doom. Or, in the truly rare and bizarre cases, maybe they’ve decided the best strategy is to repeatedly smack you with their staff. Whatever the reason, there’s a tool in Vermintide 2 for those moments. It’s a tool that, when used with the right intention (or perhaps, just the right amount of desperation), can lead to a surprisingly satisfying, albeit temporary, resolution. We're talking, of course, about the ability to… well, let’s call it “relocating” a fellow adventurer.
Imagine this: You're knee-deep in a horde of Clanrats, your Bardin Goreksson is swinging his trusty axe with all the fury of a dwarven ale-fueled berserker, and your Kerillian is peppering the enemy with arrows from a safe distance. Suddenly, a stray Chaos Spawn appears, its fleshy tendrils flailing wildly. It’s a tough fight, but you’re managing. Then, you notice your fourth party member, the one playing as Victor Saltzpyre, has gotten himself stuck on a tiny pebble. He’s wailing about Nurgle's blessings while the monsters are getting awfully close. You want to help, you really do, but he’s just… there. A stationary target. A very loud, very stationary target.
This is where the magic (or perhaps, the judicious application of peer pressure) happens. You see, Vermintide 2, in its infinite wisdom, has provided a way to… nudge… particularly uncooperative teammates in a new direction. It’s not a dramatic, cinematic “kick.” It’s more like a stern, but necessary, suggestion. Think of it as an involuntary team-building exercise. The game, bless its heart, understands that sometimes, the best way to improve the team’s morale is to remove the element that’s actively lowering it. It’s a little like when you’re trying to assemble IKEA furniture and one of your friends keeps putting the screws in upside down. You love them, but sometimes you just gotta gently guide them towards the exit with the instruction manual.
Now, I'm not saying this is an everyday occurrence. Most of the time, your fellow adventurers are fantastic. You’ll find players who will heal you when you’re on your last sliver of health, players who will call out incoming Stormvermin like seasoned veterans, and players who will bravely sacrifice themselves to save the rest of the team. These are the heroes of the Ubersreik streets, the silent guardians who make those desperate last stands feel like epic sagas. You'll forge friendships in the fires of battle, sharing hearty "GGs" and promises to team up again.
But then there are… the others. The ones who seem to be playing a solo game within your multiplayer match. The ones who charge headfirst into a swarm of Leeches without a second thought, or who mysteriously vanish whenever a special enemy appears. It’s in these moments that the gentle art of player management, shall we say, comes into play. It’s a way to, in a manner of speaking, edit the narrative of your current playthrough. You’re not being mean; you’re simply… curating the experience. You’re pruning the metaphorical rose bushes of your team to ensure that only the most robust and bloom-worthy thorns remain.
And let’s be honest, sometimes it’s just plain funny. You’ve had a rough mission, you’ve been revived a dozen times, and you’re just about to face the final boss. You see your teammate, the one who’s been wandering off and getting lost for the last three levels, about to aggro a whole new pack of horrors. In that split second, as the decision flashes through your mind, there’s a strange sense of… clarity. A moment of, "This is for the best." It’s a tiny act of rebellion against the chaos, a small assertion of control in a world that’s determined to overwhelm you. It's like telling a toddler it's bedtime when they're trying to eat the entire box of crayons. Necessary. And a little bit amusing.
So, while the glorious chaos of Vermintide 2 is what makes it so addictive, sometimes a little… fine-tuning is required. It’s not about malice; it’s about ensuring the team has the best possible chance to overcome the endless tide of darkness. It’s about the shared understanding that sometimes, for the good of the many, a single cog in the machine might need to be… temporarily removed. And that, my friends, is a surprisingly heartwarming, or at least a hilariously pragmatic, aspect of this wonderful game.
