Morning Discoveries: Max’s Last Stand

Today’s goal was simple: reach the Camp Office without becoming a wolf’s breakfast. That’s really the only bar for success these days. On the way, I spotted one of The Long Dark’s most reliable signals that something is worth investigating: birds circling in the sky, waiting patiently for either my demise or someone else’s.

Luck was on my side for once — it wasn’t my turn. At Max’s Last Stand, a corpse lay frozen in place, and right beside it sat the holy grail of early-game weaponry: a Survival Bow. I snatched it up with the speed and enthusiasm of a raccoon finding a half-eaten cheeseburger.

All I needed now were arrows. With them, I could finally graduate from “rock-throwing medieval PE teacher” to “slightly competent hunter.”

Deadfall + Hypothermia = Great Life Choices

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I decided to swing by the Deadfall area. That’s when my overconfidence caught up with me. The temperature dropped faster than my optimism during an Interloper run, and I was soon staring at the dreaded red text: Hypothermia.

I lit a fire in the nearby stove, boiled some water, and cooked… something. I’d like to say it was a hearty stew, but given my supplies, it was probably just porridge or whatever counted as “hot food” in my pack. Once I had a bit of warmth and hydration, I grabbed a torch from the fire and pressed on toward my main goal.

Lesson learned: Interloper weather waits for no one, especially those who think they can “just pop over” somewhere.

Camp Office and Instant Regret

The rest of the walk to Camp Office was blissfully uneventful — a rare thing in Mystery Lake. Inside, I scored a skillet and cooking pot. Not exactly a rifle or a quiver of arrows, but after yesterday’s cooking pot debacle, I wasn’t about to complain.

Then I made the fatal mistake: I decided to “just explore the area” before settling in. First came the snow. Then came the blizzard. In minutes, visibility dropped to “guess and hope” territory. Navigation became a mix of scent, instinct, and blind luck.

Somehow — and I truly do not know how — I managed to stagger back to the Camp Office without being eaten, freezing to death, or wandering onto thin ice. The blizzard roared outside as I slammed the door shut, my heart still hammering.

Evening Wrap-Up

Back inside, I set about cooking more porridge, boiling as much water as I could, and letting my core temperature crawl back to something survivable. The bow was now mine. The arrows? Still a distant dream. But tomorrow, I’d change that.

Tomorrow’s Goal

Find arrows. Or a rifle. Or, failing that, a pointy stick and a really bad attitude.

Continue the Journey

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 6: Blizzard Send-Off, Ptarmigan Detour, and the Great Cooking Pot Tragedy
Customloper Diaries – Day 8 ▶