Category: Gaming Journey

Isolation Protocol: An Allen Isolation Survival Diary – Log 1: Five Chances on Sevastopol

Isolation Protocol Log 1: Five Chances on Sevastopol

Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Rule Set:

The Apex Predator Rule
 — The Xenomorph gets 5 chances. On the fifth one, it wins.

Video: Boarding Sevastopol, spacewalk disaster, and first exploration (no commentary)

When the title screen opens with Ellen Ripley’s final message, it doesn’t feel nostalgic. It feels like a warning.

Amanda Ripley is welding when Samuels approaches with the one thing she’s been waiting for:
possible information about her mother.
The ship is Sevastopol.
The invitation is optional in theory, mandatory in practice.

If she wants answers, she goes.
So we go.

Wake, Dress, Invade Privacy

First objective: get dressed.
Hypersleep apparently strips you of both consciousness and wardrobe.

A quick conversation with Samuels and Taylor follows.
Then I discover the Torrens’ cyber security policy is “hope no one clicks anything.”
Taylor’s personal folder is right there.
Yes, I look.

I grab the briefing document from the bridge before contacting Sevastopol.
The reply we receive sounds less like a welcome and more like a suggestion to stay away.

Naturally, we ignore it.

The Spacewalk That Went Wrong

The transition to Sevastopol is done via spacewalk.
It lasts exactly as long as it needs to before everything explodes.

I’m thrown clear.
Samuels and Taylor disappear.
I drift toward the station alone.

The adventure officially begins the moment isolation becomes literal.

Arrival and Immediate Regret

Sevastopol feels abandoned but not empty.
The lighting flickers.
The walls are layered in graffiti that reads less like vandalism and more like confession.

I let my inner loot goblin take control:

  • Scrap? Mine.
  • Flare? Mine.
  • If it flashes, it’s coming with me.

I find a terminal confirming the station is being decommissioned.
Apparently that process includes cutting power almost everywhere.
Dark corridors. Locked doors. Minimal lighting.
Excellent design choice.

Maps, Power, and Door Code 0340

I locate a map for the Arrival and Departure Lounge and manage to restore partial power.
Lights return.
Doors do not.

Access is tied to the computer systems, because of course it is.

I also find a door code: 0340.
I haven’t found the door yet, but I’m holding onto that number.
Horror games reward memory.
Or punish the lack of it.

Movement in the Dark

Once I unlock the next section, I see people running.
Actual survivors.

That confirms two things:

  • I’m not alone.
  • Whatever they’re running from is still here.

And under the Apex Predator Rule, I already know who the top of the food chain is.

The Apex Predator Rule Begins

This run follows the

Apex Predator Rule
.

The Xenomorph gets five chances.
On the fifth successful kill, it wins.

No resets.
No rewinds.
No “that didn’t count.”

Sevastopol now has a scoreboard.
And I’ve just stepped onto the field.

Continue the journey:
Next Log
1

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 13: Detours, Moose, and Cabin Fever Math

Unprepared Log 13: Detours, Moose, and Cabin Fever Math

Difficulty: Interloper
Region: Mystery Lake → Mountain Town
Platform: Steam Deck
Survivor: Will

I woke up with a plan. The game woke up with a fog bank and spite.

First thought: check the snare I set yesterday, because free rabbit is the closest thing Interloper has to joy.
The problem is I can’t see five feet in front of me.
It’s full-on “walk forward and become a landmark” visibility.

So I do what any brave survivor would do: I go back inside and pretend this is part of my strategy.
If the world is going to hide itself, I’m going to sit down and research until it feels embarrassed.

Arrow Plans Meet Scrap Reality

With the weather refusing to cooperate, I do a quick sanity check on what I need for arrows.
And it’s the usual Interloper punchline: I need an improvised knife.

Which means scrap metal.
I have two.
Two scrap metal is not a plan, it’s a suggestion.

That changes everything.
I decide I’m heading to Milton, grabbing whatever scrap I can, and then pushing on to Forlorn Muskeg.
It’s not what I wanted to do, but Interloper doesn’t do “wanted.”

Through the Cave, With the Usual Drama

I take the cave route toward Mountain Town.
It goes fine, which is suspicious on its own.

When I reach the transition and the rope down into Milton, I hit the usual problem:
I can’t take everything.
So I dump gear at the top of the rope with the classic lie I tell myself every time:
“I’ll be back for this.”

I do get one small win.
In a nearby cave I find matches.
It’s not a hammer, but it’s also not death, so I’ll take it.

New Rope, Same Nonsense: The Moose

I climb another rope and, at the top, there’s a moose waiting for me.
Just standing there like it pays rent.

I swear it’s the same moose from Mystery Lake.
I know that’s not how the game works.
I also know the moose doesn’t care what I know.

I give it space and continue into town, because I’m not getting stomped into paste today if I can help it.

The Orca Gas Station Problem

I try to hit the Orca Gas Station, because it’s a solid loot stop and I’m here anyway.
Except I don’t have a prybar.

Because I left it back in Mystery Lake.
Because I didn’t think I was coming here.
Because I’m apparently doing a challenge run called “Forget the One Tool You Need.”

I do a quick look around in the hope I find another one.
No joy.
So I pivot and start looting what I can actually enter.

Milton House Tour: Scrap Notes and Low Excitement

I go house to house, grabbing what I can.
Nothing is wildly exciting, but I make a mental note of where the decent scrap is for later.
If I’m going to Forlorn Muskeg, I want to go with more than two sad bits of metal rattling in my pocket.

The trip stays surprisingly calm.
No ambush wolves.
No sudden blizzards halfway through a street crossing.
Just the moose lurking like a tax collector.

Greymother’s: Water, Pots, and a Small Clothing Win

I reach Greymother’s house without any hassle and immediately get to work on the basics:
boil water, organise gear, and pretend I’m in control.

Loot-wise, I find a couple of cooking pots.
That’s actually useful.
More water, faster cooking, less time spent watching a fire like it’s a live sports event.

I also find combat pants.
Which means I now have something in each slot.
Well… except the slot where the moose satchel would go.
But we’re not talking about that yet.

Tomorrow’s Plan: Prybar, Hammer, and a Bit of Hope

Tomorrow I want a prybar.
Ideally I also find a hammer, because my “go to a forge” plan is currently being held together with optimism and poor timing.

Mountain Town should have enough scrap to set me up properly.
The only question is whether the game lets me collect it without turning the streets into a predator convention.

And Then Interloper Remembers Cabin Fever Exists

I head to bed in Greymother’s feeling like I’ve at least moved the run forward.
Which is when the game throws the one thing I thought I was avoiding:
Cabin Fever risk.

I forgot the grace period is shorter on Interloper.
Of course it is.
Of course the punishment system is also on hard mode.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 12 |
Unprepared Log 14

1

Stranded: A Minecraft Survival Diary – Log 4: The Mine Begins

Stranded – Log 4: The Mine Begins

Game: Minecraft
Mode: Survival
Platform: Steam Deck

“I don’t mine efficiently. I mine comfortably.”

The time has come. Mining can’t be postponed any longer. Before I even touch the stone below the house, I make a small adjustment to the entrance. It’s not strictly necessary, and I know I probably won’t look at most of it again once the tunnel starts stretching downward, but I like knowing it’s done properly. Order at the top makes the chaos below easier to manage.

I’m particular about a few things underground. Torch spacing matters. Placement matters. Torches on the left mean I’m heading away from base. Torches on the right mean I’m walking back toward safety. It’s a simple rule, but it keeps me oriented when the tunnels start to blur together. Habit might not be glamorous, but it’s reliable.

First Dig, First Level

I stick to a pattern that’s worked for me before: three blocks high, two blocks wide, pushing forward around twenty blocks at a time. If I hit danger first, that decides the distance. It isn’t optimised, and I have no idea whether this is the “correct” way to mine in Minecraft. It’s just the way I’m comfortable doing it, and comfort underground counts for more than efficiency.

The first level isn’t especially generous. There’s some coal, which keeps the torches coming. More copper than I strictly need. A bit of flint. Nothing dramatic, but enough to justify the effort.

The flint is the real marker of progress. Flint means flint and steel is within reach. Flint and steel means the Nether stops being theoretical. I’m not stepping into that without proper gear, though. Iron at the very least. Diamond if I’m patient. So the tunnel continues.

Down Four Blocks (Not Straight Down)

Once the first level feels exhausted, I dig down four blocks to start the next tier. Not straight down. I may be reckless at times, but I’m not careless enough to trust gravity blindly. Every descent is controlled.

All the stone I’ve mined becomes stairs. I usually default to ladders, but ladders punish mistakes instantly. One slip and it’s a long fall with nothing to cushion it. Stairs are slower, but they’re steady. Underground, steady wins.

On the next level, I repeat the same process. Same tunnel dimensions. Same torch rules. Same measured push forward into the dark. Mining isn’t glamorous. It’s methodical. The repetition is part of the safety.

Copper Tools and Unwanted Company

This is where the copper tools finally earn their place. They’re noticeably faster than stone, even if they still feel temporary. Copper doesn’t inspire confidence the way iron does, but it’s an upgrade, and upgrades matter.

I keep checking the outside light between stretches of digging. If I step out of the mine, I want to know what might be waiting. The world above doesn’t pause just because I’m underground.

During one of those checks, I don’t even make it to the entrance before I hear it. The wet, hollow sound of a Drowned somewhere nearby. I don’t investigate. I don’t test my odds. I retreat back into the mine immediately. The stone feels safer than the shoreline.

The Loneliest Iron Ore

Eventually, the mine rewards me with iron. Not a vein. Not a cluster. One single block.

It’s enough to matter, technically. One piece solves flint and steel. It does nothing for armour. Nothing for weapons. It’s progress, but modest progress.

I also uncover lapis lazuli. That’s for later. Useful for enchantments eventually, decorative in the meantime. A reminder that the mine isn’t empty, just selective.

When my final copper pickaxe breaks, I take it as a sign. The mine itself isn’t finished, but this trip is. Pushing further without tools would just be stubbornness dressed up as ambition.

Back Home, Finally Sleeping

I head back to the house and count the run as a success. The gains are modest, but they’re real. Coal for fuel. Flint for the future. One piece of iron that shifts the long-term plan slightly forward.

I’ve been avoiding sleep for days, staying awake to control spawns and movement. That needs to stop. Fatigue in survival games doesn’t show up as a mechanic. It shows up as bad decisions.

I could move a bed into the mine. That would be practical. It would also remove the small ritual of returning home, and I’m not ready to give that up yet.

One night’s sleep. Then it’s back underground.

Continue the Journey

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1

Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary – Log 5: Swindlers, Spell Noise, and Unexpected Backup

Cold-Blooded – Log 5: Swindlers, Spell Noise, and Unexpected Backup

Game: Skyrim Special Edition
Mode: Survival Mode
Difficulty: Adept
Survivor: Treads-Through-Cold (Argonian Mage)

I didn’t plan to clear Swindler’s Den. Being there made the decision for me.

Since I was already inside Swindler’s Den, leaving unexplored space behind felt inefficient. In Survival Mode, walking away from shelter and loot without a reason usually comes back to punish you later.

The den made its first impression quickly. Not all bandits are thinkers.

Swindler’s Den: First Contact

The first bandit I encountered ran headfirst into an object and failed to recover. No tactics. No awareness. Just momentum and regret.

I took the opening and moved on, but the den immediately highlighted a growing problem in my setup.

I’ve been trying to build the habit of casting Oakflesh before engagements. Armor is a scarce resource for a mage in Survival Mode, and temporary protection is better than none.

The downside became obvious fast.

Oakflesh is not subtle. Every cast echoed through the cave like an announcement. Sneak into a side tunnel. Cast Oakflesh. Instantly alert every bandit within earshot.

Effective defense. Terrible stealth.

Slow Progress, Sudden Panic

I slowed my pace, checking corners and backing out of rooms instead of pushing forward. Ambushes in enclosed spaces end runs quickly.

The plan unraveled when I realized one of the bandits was a spellcaster.

At the same moment, my magicka bar hit zero.

That combination doesn’t invite confidence.

I retreated, burned through health potions, and had a brief flash of panic about Lydia’s positioning. I half-expected to hear her death cry echo through the den.

It didn’t.

Lydia held the line.

Instead of collapsing, she pushed forward, absorbed the pressure, and removed the threat. No heroics. Just competence.

Loot Decisions and Rule Checks

With the immediate danger cleared, I slowed down and searched the den properly.

  • Spell Tome: Candlelight
  • Magic Staff: Unspecified, but functional
  • Hide Helmet: Increased magicka

Candlelight isn’t flashy, but light matters underground when torches burn out and magicka management gets tight.

The staff prompted a rules check. There’s nothing in my setup that forbids staff usage. It uses magicka efficiently and gives me options when spells aren’t viable.

I equipped it.

I also upgraded Lydia’s loadout with heavy armor. She’s clearly earning her keep, and better protection keeps her standing longer.

The hide helmet turned out to be more important than it first appeared.

Cleaning House

The bandit leader went down without incident. The final member followed shortly after.

No dramatic finish. No close calls. Just a cleared den.

With Swindler’s Den secured, I turned toward Rorikstead to deal with unfinished business.

Road Encounters

On the road, I crossed paths with a member of the Imperial Legion.

I fully expected hostility. Instead, I got polite conversation and a casual suggestion that I should enlist.

I acknowledged it and moved on. Survival first. Politics later.

In Rorikstead, the Alik’r warriors confirmed their target and asked me to escort her to the stables outside Whiterun.

Why they couldn’t wait there themselves remains unanswered.

Testing Limits

On the return journey, I experimented.

The hide helmet gave me just enough magicka to successfully conjure a Flame Atronach. It worked, but the cost was steep.

This build needs more magicka if conjuration is going to be more than an emergency option.

Resolution in Whiterun

Back in Whiterun, I convinced the Redguard woman to go to the stables.

An Alik’r warrior was waiting. A spell was cast. The bounty was settled.

My share was modest, but clean. No guards. No complications.

Darkness was already setting in. In Survival Mode, that’s a warning, not scenery.

I headed for the inn and ended the day before cold or exhaustion could interfere.

End of Day Thoughts

I don’t have a clear plan for tomorrow.

But Swindler’s Den is cleared. Lydia proved reliable. My options expanded.

That’s enough progress for one day.

Video Log

No commentary gameplay footage for this log:

Continue the Journey

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Log 4
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Log 6

1

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 12: The Lens Was In The Box

Unprepared Log 12: The Lens Was In The Box

Difficulty: Interloper
Region: Mystery Lake
Survivor: Will

The answer was not at the top of a rope. It was in a box I walked past.

This was attempt number two at the cave above the Camp Office.
This time, I committed properly: I dropped anything I didn’t absolutely need.
Rope climbing on Interloper is simple math — if you’re overencumbered, you’re not climbing.

This was the last place left in Mystery Lake that I was sure could hold the magnifying lens.
If it wasn’t here, I genuinely had no next step.

The Rope, The Ledge, The Nothing

The climb itself was uneventful.
I stopped at the ledge to catch my breath, then pushed on to the cave.

Inside the cave, there was nothing.
No magnifying lens. No useful loot.
Just cold stone and the quiet confirmation that I’d wasted the effort.

Disheartened, I climbed back down and headed for the Camp Office,
already accepting that I’d be heading to a forge run without the lens.

The Box That Mocked Me

Before committing to the long walk toward Forlorn Muskeg,
I decided to do one last check of the Camp Office.

I walked in.
I opened a box.

The magnifying lens was sitting inside it.
Found almost immediately.
Apparently waiting for me to finish wasting time elsewhere.

A lot of effort, zero reward — until suddenly there was.
Problem solved, irritation earned.

I did a quick supply check, dropped anything I didn’t need,
and staged gear at the Camp Office for later.
The next priority was clear: I needed the hammer.

A Moose With Opinions

The moose had made a grand return outside the Camp Office.
Not charging, not leaving — just existing with purpose.

I’m fairly sure it decided to follow me for part of the way.
It didn’t attack, but it didn’t help morale either.

Trapper’s Homestead and Rabbit Politics

The walk to Trapper’s Homestead was otherwise uneventful.
No wolves, no weather tantrums.
A rare gift.

Once there, I immediately entered another round of combat with rabbits.
The rabbits mostly won.

I did manage to get one eventually,
which counts as a victory under Interloper standards.

I also attempted to locate a memento cache that was supposedly in the nearby cave.
Instead, I wasted time outside the cave.
This is becoming a theme.

Reset, Cure, Sleep

Back at the Homestead, I harvested the rabbit,
set the hide and gut curing,
cooked the meat,
and shut everything down for the night.

Tomorrow’s plan is unavoidable.
I need to head for Forlorn Muskeg and start working on arrowheads.

I don’t want to go.
But I need arrows.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 11 |
Unprepared Log 13

1

Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary – Log 4: Gold, Guards, and Bad Ideas

Cold-Blooded – Log 4: Gold, Guards, and Bad Ideas

Game: Skyrim Special Edition
Mode: Survival Mode
Difficulty: Adept
Survivor: Treads-Through-Cold (Argonian)

No commentary gameplay video for Cold-Blooded – Log 4.

I went to Whiterun for gold. I left with a housecarl, a title, and a mountain problem.

The plan was simple.

Reach Whiterun. Sell everything that wasn’t nailed down. Leave richer.

As I approached the city, shouting carried across the road. Loud. Urgent. The kind of noise that usually means trouble or unpaid bounties.

Inside Whiterun, two men were arguing with a guard. I slowed down to listen.

That’s when a courier appeared. Apparently he’d been looking for me. He handed over a note from a “friend,” suggesting I head somewhere important.

I added it to the mental to-do list and refocused.

Whiterun Business

The two men finally finished with the guard and approached me.

They were Alik’r warriors, hunting a Redguard woman. If I spotted her, they’d pay me.

That was an easy yes.

I sold what I could, then went straight to Farengar. Gold became spells.

I upgraded Flames and Sparks, debated a few others, then decided to report to the Jarl instead.

That decision escalated quickly.

The Greybeards had summoned me. Apparently they live at the top of a mountain. Seven thousand steps up.

I am an Argonian. Cold and altitude are not my strengths.

Before I could object, I was named Thane of Whiterun, handed an axe, and assigned a housecarl.

Lydia joined the party.

Spell Shopping and Favors

I returned to Farengar one last time.

I picked up Lesser Ward and Conjure Flame Atronach. Practical choices. Controlled chaos.

Farengar also asked me to deliver Frost Salts to Arcadia. Easy job. Possibly gold.

Lydia received the axe. She seemed happy.

Arcadia paid me in potions and casually mentioned I could help myself to her stock.

I did not question this generosity.

Delayed Justice

On the way to find a bed, I spotted the Redguard woman.

I spoke to her. She knew she’d been found.

She wanted to talk.

I wanted sleep.

The Alik’r had promised payment, and Rorikstead was on the road anyway. I made my choice.

Road to Rorikstead

I left Whiterun at first light, eager to test my new spells.

Wolves were the first volunteers.

I dual-cast my upgraded fire spell. It looked spectacular. I briefly considered shouting “Hadouken.”

It was excessive. One cast would have done the job.

Necromancers were less impressed. They used wards. My magic bounced off.

Lydia solved the problem with steel.

I looted their camp. One robe boosted magicka regeneration by 75%. A clear upgrade.

One of them carried a spell tome: Fury.

I learned it immediately.

Swindler’s Den

I reached Swindler’s Den about halfway to Rorikstead.

It looked defensible. Promising. Possibly warm.

If there’s a bed inside, I’ll find it.

If not, tomorrow is going to hurt.

Either way, that’s a problem for the next log.

Continue the Journey

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Cold-Blooded – Log 3
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Cold-Blooded – Log 5

1

Stranded: A Minecraft Survival Diary – Log 2: Bridges, Wheat, and Future Problems

Stranded – Log 2: Bridges, Wheat, and Future Problems

Game: Minecraft
Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Difficulty: Hard

With a bed and a door sorted, I can finally start thinking a little further ahead.

The immediate threats are handled. I can sleep. I can shut something between me and whatever wanders past at night. That buys me space to think beyond surviving the next five minutes.

The first decision feels obvious. If I’m staying here, even temporarily, I need more room.

A Bridge to Somewhere Else

Before expanding the house itself, I turn my attention outward. I want a mine that isn’t directly under my base, and the spot I’ve chosen sits across the water. Swimming back and forth every time I need stone sounds manageable in theory and irritating in practice, so I build a bridge.

It’s two blocks wide and functional. That’s about as kind as I can be about it. It won’t win any awards, but it means I can cross quickly without risking a drowned deciding to get involved. Sometimes “not pretty” is good enough.

The mine entrance will take more thought. I have ideas for something that looks intentional rather than accidental, but Minecraft has a habit of humbling overconfidence. What looks impressive in your head can end up looking like a shed with ambition issues. I’ll see how brave I’m feeling when I actually commit to it.

Farming: The Water Betrayal

Next comes food security. In my head this is simple: block off some water, leave a neat irrigation pocket, plant wheat, become responsible. Minecraft disagrees.

Blocking the water off does not preserve a helpful little irrigation square. It removes the water entirely and leaves me staring at dirt and poor planning. I undo the mistake, restore the water, and prepare the ground properly this time.

A few wheat seeds go in. It’s not much yet, but it’s a start. On Hard mode, progress isn’t flashy. It’s incremental. You survive by stacking small, sensible decisions on top of each other until they resemble stability.

House Expansion (Still Keeping It Narrow)

I keep the house three blocks wide but extend it outward so I have space for storage, furnaces, and whatever else inevitably accumulates. I’d originally pictured the base in oak and birch, something neat and coordinated.

Then I looked around and realised the surrounding area is almost entirely jungle wood. At some point you stop arguing with the environment and start working with it. So jungle wood it is. If the world is offering it in abundance, I may as well use it.

Glass, Because I’d Like to See My Death Coming

I get some glass smelting as well. If this is going to be one of my homes, I want windows. I want to see what’s outside before I open the door and step into it.

That isn’t paranoia. It’s awareness. I’d rather spot a problem through glass than meet it face to face without warning.

Sleeping Through the Problem

During the extension, I sleep more than once. I’m not interested in managing hostile mobs while the base is half-finished and my inventory is filled with building materials instead of weapons.

The water nearby means drowned are a possibility. I tell myself that if I stay out of the water, they’ll stay out of my life. It’s an optimistic assumption, but for now it’s holding.

Exploring the Area (And Immediately Finding a Chasm)

I explore a little further out and quickly find a chasm. There’s a cave system visible at the bottom, which immediately shifts my thinking from curiosity to logistics. Getting down is easy. Getting back up safely is what matters.

Ladders are the current favourite. Stairs are safer but slower. The decision will probably come down to how patient I feel when I stand at the edge looking down into it.

I also spot coal in the distance. It’s not immediately accessible, which means it will require some digging and planning. That’s fine. Coal might not feel dramatic, but it’s foundational. Torches don’t light themselves.

Wolves and the Temptation to Get Attached

Wolves roam the area as well. At first I think I’m seeing hostile mobs burning in daylight, but it’s just a wolf dismantling cows and pigs with impressive efficiency. Nature handling its own logistics.

I attempt to tame one using a porkchop. Hearts appear, but not enough to make it permanent. Lesson learned: bones, not pork. Which means skeletons, which means night, which means risk.

I’m also aware that if I do tame one and it dies, it’s going to bother me more than it should. So I’m not rushing that decision. Survival first. Attachments later.

A Different Biome Nearby

Off in the distance, I spot another biome entirely. The cacti make it obvious what kind of place it is. Useful information, even if I’m not heading there yet. Knowing your surroundings matters long before you exploit them.

The Roof Overhang (Because Spiders Are Freeloaders)

I add a small overhang to the roof. Torches are already placed around the house, but I don’t want spiders deciding the roof is their new gathering point. Prevention is easier than eviction.

It takes longer than I expect, but once it’s finished, the house looks intentional rather than improvised. Less “I panicked and stacked blocks” and more “this might actually be a plan.”

Ending the Day

By the end of it, the base is larger. The farm exists. The bridge connects me to future mining plans. I’ve identified a chasm, nearby coal, a new biome, and a potential mine entrance.

On paper, things are going well.

Experience tells me that usually means the world is preparing a correction.

Video Log

Full no-commentary gameplay for this log is available below.

Continue the Journey

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Log 1 — Sheep, Skeletons, and a 3×3 Start
Next:
Log 3

1

Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary – Log 3: Gold Problems and an Unwanted Destiny

Cold-Blooded – Log 3: Gold Problems and an Unwanted Destiny

Game: Skyrim Special Edition
Mode: Survival Mode
Difficulty: Adept
Survivor: Treads-Through-Cold (Argonian)

Gold doesn’t solve every problem. But right now, it would solve most of mine.

Money is becoming a recurring issue. Spells cost gold. Food costs gold. Staying alive costs gold.

With that in mind, I checked the local inn in Riverwood for work. They had a bounty available and pointed me toward a few other opportunities. None of them sounded safe. All of them sounded necessary.

I added everything to the list.

Cold-Blooded – Log 3 (No Commentary)

Full gameplay footage from Riverwood to Whiterun, including the Western Watchtower dragon fight.

The Road to Whiterun

On the way to Whiterun, I spotted a fight in progress. A giant. Several people. A lot of shouting.

I hadn’t decided who to help by the time the giant was already dead.

That earned me a mild scolding for not joining in sooner. Turns out the group were the Companions. They take jobs. Dangerous ones. For gold.

I made a mental note. I may need them.

As they left, I noticed something else. Crops. A lot of crops. Vegetables everywhere. Unattended. Unclaimed. No warnings. No angry NPC dialogue.

I harvested all of it.

I then walked past the farmer who owned those crops.

He’s in for a surprise.

Whiterun Business

Once inside Whiterun, I went straight to the inn. More work was available. One job stood out.

I was asked to retrieve something called Nettlebane.

I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if it’s a weapon. But it sounds valuable enough to investigate.

From there, I spoke to the Jarl.

He asked if I could help his court wizard, Farengar. I handed over the Dragonstone. Apparently, I’d already done the hard part.

As a reward, the Jarl offered me the chance to buy a house in Whiterun.

Buy being the key word.

The Western Watchtower

A dragon had been sighted at the Western Watchtower.

I was asked if I could help.

I agreed, reluctantly.

The dragon stayed just out of spell range most of the fight. When I could hit it, I did. When I couldn’t, I waited and tried not to die.

I need better spells. That means gold. Farengar already suggested Winterhold.

No.

  1. I’m an Argonian.
  2. The clue is in the name: Winterhold.

An Unexpected Title

The dragon fell.

I took what I could from it. Then I absorbed its soul.

A Whiterun guard called me Dragonborn.

I don’t know what that means.

But I’m confident they’ve got the wrong Argonian.

Continue the journey:
Cold-Blooded – Log 2: Bleak Falls and Poor Attitudes |
Cold-Blooded – Log 4: Gold, Guards, and Bad Ideas
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10,000 Views — Thank You

Somehow, the chaos is adding up.

Today, Survivor Incognito passed 10,000 total views.
For a niche survival blog built on permadeath runs, structured guides, and a refusal to chase trends,
that genuinely means a lot.

This entire project — every diary entry, guide, map, rule, and redesign — has been built and written by one person.
No team. No outsourcing. Just steady work and structured chaos.

What started as chaotic diary entries on Nintendo Switch has grown into something more deliberate:
a connected system of hubs, roadmaps, maps, and rules — now running across Switch and Steam Deck.

The foundation is stronger than ever.
More worlds. More rules. More structured chaos.

Thank you for reading — even if you’ve only stopped by once.
I’m keeping this going.

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Stranded: A Minecraft Survival Diary – Log 1: Sheep, Skeletons, and a 3×3 Start

Stranded – Log 1: Sheep, Skeletons, and a 3×3 Start

Game: Minecraft
Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Difficulty: Hard

I spawn in a wooded area, right next to sheep. That immediately solves one very important problem.

A bed.

All I need is three pieces of wool of the same colour. Minecraft is very picky about that.

I punch a tree, grab enough wood to get started, and craft a table so I can make a wooden axe and pickaxe. When I turn back, the sheep have vanished.

Of course they have.

It takes longer than I’d like, but eventually I track down three sheep of the same colour. Three sheep later, I have enough wool for a bed.

That alone changes everything. Being able to skip nights means I don’t have to deal with monsters until I decide I’m ready.

Video Log

Full no-commentary gameplay for this log is available below.

Big Ideas, Bad Timing

With the bed sorted, my thoughts immediately jump ahead.

I want a base of operations. Somewhere I can sleep, store things, and eventually start a farm. From there, I can mine properly instead of poking holes in the ground and hoping for the best.

I wander into a nearby cave. Not deep — maybe ten or twenty blocks.

I see a skeleton.

The skeleton sees me.

An arrow hits me almost immediately, followed by another. Hard difficulty is not interested in easing me in.

I’m not equipped for this, and I’m not throwing the run away on day one.

I run.

Ignoring the Lesson

A little later, I try again.

This time, it’s because I spot coal. Torches would be useful, and optimism briefly wins out over common sense.

The skeleton is still there. It now has a creeper for company.

At this point, even I take the hint.

I cut my losses and leave the cave alone.

Some problems are better solved later.

Surface Coal and a Night’s Rest

It’s not all bad.

Across the water, I spot coal exposed on the surface. A decent amount of it, too.

No skeletons. No creepers. No arrows flying out of the dark.

It’s getting late, so I carve out a small alcove, place my bed, and sleep.

Day one ends without disaster, which feels like an achievement in itself.

Day Two: Follow the Water

I wake up with no real plan.

Rather than force one, I decide to see where the water leads.

I start swimming, then remember boats exist and immediately regret not thinking of that sooner.

I make a boat and quickly realise it’s going to take some practice to steer properly.

Still, it does the job.

After a bit of travel, I find a flat area right next to the water. Trees nearby. Sand close enough to grab.

This feels like somewhere I could actually stay.

A House, Barely

I gather wood, grass, and some sand. I want windows eventually, even if they don’t happen today.

I also start nudging the water around slightly, laying the groundwork for a future wheat farm.

For now, though, the priority is simple.

I build a small 3×3 structure out of wooden planks. No windows. No decoration.

But it has a door.

That alone means I can come and go without breaking blocks every time, which already feels like progress.

It’s not much, but it’s mine.

Ending the Day

During my wandering, I’ve picked up some meat and a bit of copper ore.

I craft a furnace, cook the meat, and leave the copper smelting while I sleep.

I’ve no idea what day three will bring.

But I have a bed, a door, food sorted, and a place I can stand still without worrying.

On Hard difficulty, that’s more than enough for now.

Continue the Journey

Next entry:
Log 2 — Bridges, Wheat, and Future Problems

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