I blog my way through survival games on Nintendo Switch, and Steam Deck, from snowy wastelands to shark-infested seas. Expect humour, questionable decisions, and the occasional narrow escape — because thriving is more fun than suffering (unless the wolves have other ideas).
When it comes to cities I’d like to visit, I’m less interested in ticking boxes and more interested in places that feel lived in. Cities with history, atmosphere, and enough character to explore without rushing.
Edinburgh is high on the list. Old streets, layered history, and the kind of place where wandering aimlessly still feels like progress.
Prague appeals for similar reasons. Architecture, walkability, and a sense that every corner has something to say without shouting about it.
I’d also like to see Tokyo. Not for the spectacle alone, but for how it balances intensity with order. It’s a city that looks overwhelming at first, then quietly efficient once you understand how it works.
On the calmer end, Amsterdam stands out. Compact, navigable, and built at a human pace. A city where movement feels natural instead of exhausting.
None of these are about luxury or big moments. Just places that reward curiosity, patience, and a bit of wandering — which tends to suit me better than rigid plans.
If there’s one thing I’d hope people say about me, it’s that I’m reliable. Not in a flashy way — just someone who shows up, follows through, and does what they say they’ll do.
I don’t aim to be the loudest voice in the room or the centre of attention. I’d rather be the person who stays steady when things get complicated and doesn’t add unnecessary noise to the situation.
Being dependable matters more to me than being impressive. If someone can say I made things a little easier, clearer, or calmer just by being there, that’s enough.
Nothing dramatic. Just solid, consistent, and trustworthy. That’s the goal.
Progress: 38 Stars Collected | 82 Remaining | 21 Lives Platform: Steam Deck Settings: Vanilla Mario & Music
“When I looked into the light expecting peace and found Tick Tock Clock instead, I realised this run has no mercy.”
With Whomp’s Fortress cleared, I headed back to the basement to see what chaos was waiting this time. First win of the day: MIPS went down without a fight. One clean grab. One clean star.
Next stop: the Secret Aquarium. Straightforward as always. Then I spotted a platform that needed the Wing Cap. I don’t have it. I took the loss and moved on.
The big basement door — the one that may or may not lead to Hazy Maze Cave — is still locked. No key. No access. Back upstairs it was.
YouTube – Log 6 Video
Tick Tock Clock: Early, Unwanted, but Done
I looked into the light expecting the Wing Cap trial. I got Tick Tock Clock instead.
Shockingly, it wasn’t a disaster. Star placements were forgiving. No awkward jumps on tiny gears. No close calls over the void. The only real struggle was:
Grinding out the 100 Coin Star
Backtracking to collect the Red Coin Star
Annoying, sure, but manageable. And now the whole level is finished and off the board.
Rainbow Ride: Another Early Win
Like Tick Tock Clock, Rainbow Ride popped up early in this seed. Getting both out of the way now is a massive relief. Two of the most awkward courses cleaned up long before they can cause havoc.
Log 6 Summary
Lives
21
Stars Collected
38
Stars Remaining
82
Nightmares Cleared Early
Tick Tock Clock, Rainbow Ride
Two tough courses gone. One rabbit caught. One fake Wing Cap entrance. A solid session.
The honest tale of one achievement, several experiments, and an eight-legged promotion.
It all started with Guardian of Cantha
After finally earning Guardian of Cantha — fifteen years late, but who’s counting — I marched straight into Fissure of Woe and cleared it.
Great moment. Great screenshots. Full Mesmerway.
Once the glow wore off, I had the realisation every returning player hits eventually:
Yes, this build works everywhere.
No, it isn’t my build.
So the dismantling began.
Breaking away from the meta
Mesmerway is powerful. Reliable. Efficient. And completely soulless.
I wanted friction again — a team I had to think about, not just preload.
So I tore the core out:
Panic instead of Energy Surge
Ineptitude for variety. Then swapped back for Energy Surge
Healers reworked
Soul Twist Ritualist fine-tuned
Necros rebuilt
It was messy, expensive, and brilliant.
But the frontline was still empty.
I wanted something alive up there.
The pet tank discovery
While looking for ways to create a stable frontline without going full Warrior or Paragon, I stumbled on the pet tank concept.
It solved more problems than expected:
Reliable aggro
High armour scaling
Expertise reducing the cost of support skills
No tendency to wander off like a melee hero
I just needed the right animal.
And if I was going to commit to this chaos, I might as well go all in.
The Underworld trip for a spider
Some pets are noble. Some are adorable. Some don’t immediately try to kill you.
I chose none of those.
One trip to the Underworld, a careful charm attempt, and I walked out with a Dire Black Widow who radiated “I will absolutely bite a god if required.”
At this point she had no name — just the spider. A silent, glaring addition to the roster.
But she earned her place fast.
Testing, tweaking, breaking things for science
With the spider holding aggro, the test runs began:
Zaishen vanquishes: smooth
FoW: promising
UW: somehow alive longer than expected
Tombs: died to siege wurms, but everyone does
Multiple hero rewrites: several necromancers were harmed during development
Elementalist experiment: retired politely
Barrage tests: fun but not quite right
Dervish added to the frontline: finally clicked
Piece by piece, the team rebuilt itself into something new.
The frontline comes together
The final breakthrough was adding a Dervish.
Avatar of Melandru. Durable. Clean aggro. Good synergy with the healers and spirit line.
Suddenly the frontline wasn’t theoretical anymore:
Dervish + Spider.
Heavy hitter + tank.
Structure + chaos.
It worked.
But the real test was still ahead: Shiro Tagachi, Hard Mode, Master’s reward timer.
The Shiro fight — where the spider earned her name
I entered the Imperial Sanctum fight expecting to scrape by. I left it staring at the clock:
1 minute 55 seconds.
Shiro never recovered from Broad Head Arrow. The Dervish tore through him. The team melted health bars like they owed us money.
And the spider?
She tanked. She held aggro. She bit Shiro with the commitment of someone settling an old grudge.
When the dust settled, I looked at Margrid’s widow and muttered:
“…Silkfang. That’s your name.”
Because after that performance, she wasn’t “the spider” anymore. She was part of the team — the part that didn’t flinch.
And that’s how the mascot was born.
Silkfang, as I imagine her in real life: not monstrous, not magical — just a fiercely alert black widow with enough intelligence behind the eyes to understand every fight before it starts.
Why Silkfang stays
Not because she was planned. Not because she’s optimal.
But because she embodies the whole journey:
Breaking the meta
Experimenting with builds
Finding joy in nonsense that somehow works
Rebuilding the team into something uniquely mine
Silkfang is the symbol of all of that.
A quiet, eight-legged reminder that sometimes the best part of Guild Wars is abandoning the expected path and discovering something brilliant in its place.
Long live Silkfang. Frontliner. Mascot. And the only creature in Tyria who can tank Shiro without complaining.
What are your favorite physical activities or exercises?
I don’t chase complicated workout routines. My favourite physical activities are the ones that feel practical, steady, and don’t require a motivational speech to get started.
Walking is at the top of the list. It’s simple, clears the head, and doesn’t need equipment, planning, or any sort of athletic heroics. Just movement and a bit of quiet.
I also appreciate light stretching or mobility work. Nothing dramatic — just enough to keep everything functioning without complaining. It’s more maintenance than exercise, but it does what it needs to do.
And while it’s not a formal workout, I enjoy anything that has a clear purpose: lifting something that actually needs lifting, organising a space, or tackling the kind of physical tasks that make the day run smoother. Functional movement feels more useful than sets and reps.
Nothing flashy. Nothing extreme. Just activities that help me stay steady without turning it into a survival challenge.
What is something others do that sparks your admiration?
I admire people who stay calm under pressure. Not because they’re fearless, but because they know how to steady themselves when things get messy. That kind of focus is worth more than half the noise we deal with day to day.
I also respect consistency. Showing up, doing the work, and keeping promises — even when it’s inconvenient — says a lot more than big gestures ever do. Steady effort beats flashy effort every time.
Another thing that stands out is the ability to learn without ego. People who admit when they don’t know something, ask the right questions, and come back stronger. It’s practical, honest, and a trait more of us could use.
And finally, I admire those who can find humour in difficult moments. Not denial, not avoidance — just the ability to cut through tension with something light so everyone can breathe again.
None of these traits are loud. They don’t make headlines. But they make life easier, and that’s worth admiring.
If you’d told younger me that I’d eventually beat the Fissure of Woe without a Barrage/Pet group, I’d have laughed.
Back then, FoW was something I visited, not something I finished. I joined random B/P teams, fired arrows at anything that moved,
and hoped the pets would tank things they absolutely shouldn’t have been tanking.
I even tried the old ranger solo runs to the Forest — mostly because everyone else was doing it and I wanted to feel cool.
A full clear though?
That never happened.
FoW politely reminded me I was not the hero of this story.
Until now.
Standing at the Chest of Woe after my first full Fissure of Woe clear — a moment fifteen years overdue.
The Soulwoven Steps Back Into the Fire
This was my first proper attempt at beating FoW from start to finish — no gimmicks, no leaning on other players to carry me,
and no pretending my ranger pet was going to solve my problems.
Just me, The Soulwoven, and a hero team that has become far too competent for its own good.
This photo above is from the full clear —it captures the general theme of this entire adventure:
me walking into a nightmare realm with seven spirits, three mesmers, three necromancers, a ritualist specialising in restoration spirits, and questionable confidence.
The Wovenway Build Holds Its Ground
For this run I used the build I’ve been refining over the last week: a mix of spiritway, discordway, and mesmerway —
which I’ve nicknamed Wovenway.
Tacky? Possibly.
Accurate? Absolutely.
My heroes did the heavy lifting, as usual.
The E-Surge mesmers handled the hex pressure, the Discord minions kept bodies on the ground (helpful for both damage and nostalgia),
and my restoration Ritualist quietly kept everyone alive.
I focused on offensive spirits and Lamentation, occasionally pretending I understood the exact timing of everything happening on-screen.
A Run That Paid for Itself
To my surprise, the run went smoothly.
Suspiciously smoothly.
Either I’ve improved, or the enemies were having an off day.
I walked out with:
Two Passage Scrolls
Five Obsidian Shards
Several gold items
Not bad for what was meant to be “a test run.”
The whole trip paid for itself and then some.
What Comes Next?
FoW is just the beginning.
I’m still working on hero armor — Gwen, Livia, and Xandra now have Brotherhood sets, the rest are getting sorted one by one —
and I’ve been dipping into the Underworld again to see just how far Wovenway can go.
There’s also a strong temptation to record these runs.
Not a single-session full clear (I value sleep), but segmented videos:
three quests at a time, then stitched together.
Practical hero management, realistic expectations, and my usual commentary whenever something explodes unexpectedly.
Final Thoughts
Final Thoughts
It took more than a decade, a new name, and a surprisingly effective team of heroes,
but I can finally say I’ve beaten the Fissure of Woe.
Not as a ranger hiding behind pets, not as a tag-along in someone else’s group —
but on my own terms, with my own build, playing a class that younger me barely even understood.
FoW didn’t stand a chance.
Apparently, neither did my free time.
My taste in cartoons runs across a wide spectrum, and I don’t really try to narrow it down to a single favourite. At the top sits Hazbin Hotel, mostly because it leans fully into its own chaos. The animation style is bold, the humour is sharp, and the characters manage to be a mix of unhinged, entertaining, and unexpectedly sincere. It’s chaotic energy done well.
Right beside it is Helluva Boss. Same universe, different direction, and just as strong. The show mixes comedy, action, and emotional gut punches in a way that shouldn’t work as smoothly as it does. One minute you’re laughing at some unfiltered nonsense, and the next it slips in something surprisingly honest. It earns its place up there with Hazbin easily.
Even with those modern favourites, I still go back to the classics. Looney Tunes remains one of the most reliable sources of humour ever animated. The timing, the slapstick, the complete disregard for physics — it all lands just as well now as it did the first time I watched it. Some formulas age; that one doesn’t.
Then there are the old Disney cartoons, which have a very different charm. Simple stories, solid animation, and a tone that doesn’t need to try hard to work. They’re calm, consistent, and easy to come back to when I want something familiar without any noise attached.
Between the stylish modern chaos of Hazbin and Helluva Boss, the timeless absurdity of Looney Tunes, and the quiet comfort of Disney’s classics, I’ve ended up with a blend that pretty much covers every mood. I’d struggle to pick just one, but together they sum up exactly what I enjoy about animation.
If I had to pick something to do less of, it would be overthinking. It doesn’t solve much, but it does a great job of turning small tasks into mini-boss encounters. Most things take five minutes once I finally start them.
I could also do less multitasking. It sounds productive, but half the time it just splits my focus and slows everything down. Finishing one thing properly beats juggling five half-done things any day.
Another habit I could tone down is doom-scrolling. Not dramatic amounts, just the quiet routine of checking one thing, then another, then somehow ending up reading something that adds nothing to the day except a raised eyebrow.
And finally, I could do less second-guessing. Not every choice needs a full internal review panel. Sometimes “good enough” is exactly what it needs to be.
Nothing life-changing — just small adjustments that would free up a bit more energy for things that actually matter.
It turns out my return to Tyria didn’t stop at nostalgia. What started as a simple “let’s see if this still runs on the Steam Deck” somehow turned into a full plunge back into Guild Wars—titles, missions, buildcrafting, and all.
If you missed the first part of this journey, you can read my original post here:
Returning to Tyria – A Moment I Didn’t Expect to Hit This Hard .
That’s where I covered the first spark that pulled me back in before everything below really started to snowball.
Switching Mains After Fifteen Years
Somewhere along the way I realised my Necromancer—my old faithful—wasn’t the one carrying me this time. Instead, it was my Ritualist, originally named Spirits of Evil, still running the exact same Signet of Spirits build I’d left him with more than a decade ago. And somehow, it still worked.
From there I set one clear goal: Guardian of Cantha. I already had Protector from years ago, but Hard Mode was unfinished business.
Diving Into Builds: Discordway, Mesmerway, and… Wovenway?
Discovering the PvX wiki still existed felt like finding a time capsule. Between that and help from chatgpt, I rebuilt my hero team from the ground up. Discordway led me to Mesmerway, and eventually I stitched the two together with my own Ritualist style—what I jokingly call Wovenway.
The final setup:
1 Discord Minion Master
2 N/Rt healers
3 Energy Surge Mesmers
1 Restoration Ritualist (hero)
Me, running offensive spirits
Zen Daijun was the first wall. Eternal Grove was the second. But with enough testing—and a lot of stubbornness—the team broke through both.
Guardian of Cantha Achieved
Raisu Palace fell, and with it came the achievement I’d been chasing since the mid-2000s.
A New Name, A New Look
To mark the achievement, I gave my Ritualist a new identity: The Soulwoven. The name clicked immediately—something that sounded like an NPC title, or a boss you’d find lurking in the Underworld.
I recoloured his armor in a blue-green mix to match spirit animations, and honestly? It suits him far better than anything he’s worn before.
What Comes Next?
Right now, I’m upgrading hero armor. Gwen, Livia, and Xandra are already wearing Brotherhood sets; the rest of the roster is still on the to-do list. When that’s done, The Soulwoven has his eyes on two places:
The Fissure of Woe
The Underworld
I’ve been doing test runs, but nothing concrete yet. Which direction he goes first… well, that’s something future me will decide.
Survivor Incognito 