Category: Gaming Journey

Eight Pages – A Slender: The Arrival Survival Diary Log 1: For Sale, No Exit

Eight Pages – Log 1: For Sale, No Exit

Platform: Steam Deck
POV: Handheld camera (battery + recording timer on-screen)

Video: First steps into Oakside: the house, the generator, and Oakside Park (no commentary)


I start filming outside a giant “Land for Sale” sign, and somehow end the night being told to “FIND ME LAUREN.”
Normal property viewings don’t usually escalate like this.

My POV is through a handheld camera, complete with battery life and a recording timer in the corner.
I’ve no idea if the timer will behave across multiple recordings (because I’m doing this over several),
but we’ll find out together.

The first thing I see is a huge sign advertising land for sale, telling me to contact Kate.
I’m supposedly driving somewhere important. I’m just not told where or why.

The road is blocked by a fallen tree.
We don’t know who did it, but I’m running the theory that Kate did.
Easier to drop a tree across the road than take down a massive sign with your name on it.
Either way, I don’t take it as a no.
Instead of getting back in the car and leaving, I go for a hike.

The light drops fast.
Oakside might be a mountain town, but surely physics still applies.
Either the sun is speedrunning the sky, or my character timed this trip perfectly for sunset.
By the time I reach a house—likely part of the land Kate was selling—it’s fully night.

Both the front door and garage door are open.
I let myself in.
Because that’s always a strong opening move.

The House: Half Powered, Fully Suspicious

The house is confusing.
I check one phone: no power.
I check another: there’s a message on the answering machine.
So either one half of the house has electricity and the other doesn’t,
or the wiring here follows horror rules instead of logic.

I find scattered notes and a flashlight.
The flashlight becomes essential immediately.
The camera throws out a brief burst of static during my tour,
which is the kind of detail you pretend you didn’t notice.

The location is good, though.
Remote. Quiet. Surrounded by forest.
If you ignore the notes, the power issues, and the open doors,
it’s practically ideal.

There’s a locked door.
The key is in the bathroom.
Exactly where I’d hide something important.

The Locked Room: Paper Walls and Beacon Talk

The unlocked room is covered in paper.
Every wall layered with writing.
Panic used as wallpaper.

One note mentions someone being scared of a beacon.
That’s not a phrase you want to read at night with limited battery.
Add it to the list of things to ask Kate.

I notice the back gate is open.
Instead of leaving in my car like a sensible person,
I decide to go through it.
Survival instincts of a potato.

Before that, a quick go on the slide.
No reason.
Just committing to the bit.

Generator Detour and a Burned House

A short walk down the path leads to a generator.
It turns on easily.
Too easily.

Nearby is a burned down house and another note.
I read it.
A small child appears in front of me, back turned.

I move around to see their face.
Quick jump scare.
I leave.
For once, a decent decision.

I circle the house briefly.
Not lost.
Just getting steps in.

Eventually I reach a sign: Oakside Park.

Oakside Park: “FIND ME LAUREN”

I’ve already entered two buildings uninvited.
One more won’t hurt.

Inside, graffiti covers more paper in the same style as the locked room.
Large, direct, personal:
FIND ME LAUREN.

I’m guessing I’m Lauren.
Because Oakside doesn’t seem interested in subtlety.

Log 1 Takeaways

  • The camera HUD keeps me informed and mildly stressed.
  • Kate’s land sale feels more like a trap than an advert.
  • Sunset in Oakside runs on horror time.
  • If a key is easy to find, it was meant to be.
  • “FIND ME LAUREN” suggests this is personal.
Continue the journey:

Log 1 (You are here) |
Log 2

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 7: Islands Ruins, and the Question

Submerged Log 7: Islands, Ruins, and the Question

Game: Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary
Platform: Steam Deck
Survivor: Riley

Video: Southern exploration and island discovery (no commentary)

This log took longer than it should have. Not because nothing happened, but because I wasn’t ready to write it.

A brief peek behind the curtain: I wasn’t in a great place mentally for a while, and these logs stalled because of it.
Things are steadier now, and I’m ready to keep going.

The last time I stopped, the Sunbeam had been destroyed.
Not delayed. Not diverted. Gone.
Whatever hope I’d attached to rescue went with it.

After the Sunbeam

With no clear direction left, I returned to the lifepod and spent far too long doing nothing useful.
Eventually, the obvious thought landed: if there’s one island, there have to be others.

I chose to head south of the Aurora first.
If that turned up nothing, I’d sweep left or right until I hit land or found the island with the weapon platform.
It wasn’t a good plan, but it was a plan.

Limits of the Seamoth

I set off in the Seamoth, aware of its limits.
I want depth modules, but that means a Moonpool, and that isn’t an option yet.
Soon, hopefully.

I checked scattered wreckage along the way and came up empty.
No upgrades, no breakthroughs, just debris and reminders that others tried and failed here first.

Then I spotted something that wasn’t wreckage.

The Second Island

Another island broke the surface ahead of me.
Solid ground, at last.

The wildlife made it clear I wasn’t welcome.
I launched a couple of them into the sea out of necessity and irritation.
They were persistent. I was done negotiating.

The upside is food.
Real food.
For the first time in a while, I’m not entirely reliant on a fish-only diet.

More importantly, the island holds man-made structures.
Old ones.
Weathered, decaying, and clearly abandoned.

The PDAs fill in the gaps.
Whoever lived here didn’t leave recently, and they probably didn’t leave by choice.

Blueprints and Bad Construction Ahead

As I scanned the ruins, another idea took hold.
I don’t need to live out of the lifepod forever.

A new base is possible.
Not today, but soon.
I’ll need materials, a location, and a rough design.
I will almost certainly ignore that design halfway through.

If you thought my Minecraft bases were questionable, this will not reassure you.

The island does at least reward me with progress:

  • Stasis Rifle blueprint
  • Improved swim fins blueprint

Useful upgrades.
Comforting ones.
Which usually means the game is about to escalate.

A Message, Then a Voice

With nothing else pulling me forward, I head back toward the lifepod.
I’d received a radio message earlier and ignored it long enough.

Another lifepod signal.
Another reason to leave safety behind.

On the way, I notice something in the distance.
A shadow that doesn’t quite exist.
It moves, but there’s nothing there to see.

Whatever it is, it waits until the radio message ends.

Then it asks a single question:

“Who are you?”

Continue the Journey

Previous Log | Next Log

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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 14: Wolf Welcome Party, Basin Hideout

Unprepared Log 14: Wolf Welcome Party, Basin Hideout

Difficulty: Interloper
Region: Mountain Town (Milton / Milton Basin)
Survivor: Will
Platform: Steam Deck

“Today’s plan was ‘walk to a farmhouse.’ The game heard that and queued up a wolf.”

I wake up with a sensible idea for once: head down to the farmhouse and start building a second base of operations in
Mountain Town. It would also, in theory, help with cabin fever. Which means it’s a problem for tomorrow.

Before I go anywhere, I dump a few things at Grey Mother’s. I’m heavier than I want to be, and I’m trying
to avoid that classic Interloper moment where you realise you’ve been carrying your own downfall for two hours.

Farmhouse Plans, Wolf Opinions

I don’t even reach the bridge to the farmhouse before a wolf decides I look like lunch.
And because the game loves rules more than it loves my survival, I’m not allowed to use the hacksaw to fight it off.
So I do what every Interloper hero does when faced with teeth and bad choices:
I punch it.

Somehow, I survive the attack. I limp back to Grey Mother’s to sort myself out properly:

  • Pain treatment, because my character now moves like a badly loaded shopping trolley.
  • A bandage for a sprained ankle.
  • A quiet moment to appreciate that I didn’t lose any clothing in that fight. Miracles happen.

The farmhouse plan is dead. I’m not marching straight back toward “Wolf Ambush Street” while hobbling.
So I pick a new destination: Milton Basin.

Milton Basin: Rabbits, Regret, and a Carcass I Can’t Reach

In my head, Milton Basin means caves, a bit of shelter, and hopefully fewer predators.
It also means rabbits. Which would be great… if my wrists weren’t sprained.

I spot a rabbit and immediately remember I can’t do anything about it. Again.
The game really does have a personal vendetta against me and rabbit-based nutrition.

I do see birds circling, which means there’s food somewhere.
Sure enough, I find a deer carcass… and then spend far too long trying to work out how to actually get to it.
It’s always reassuring when you can see the calories but have to solve a small geography puzzle to claim them.

Eventually, I reach it. I harvest what I can:

  • Meat (because starving is still my biggest enemy)
  • Deer hide (future plans, assuming I survive long enough to have “future”)
  • Skipped the guts this time — it felt like it would take too long, and I’m already on thin ice health-wise.

Mag Lens Logic, Cave Reality

Once I reach the bottom of the basin, I find the cave and decide to do something smart for a change:
use the sunlight while I’ve got it.

I assume I can’t use the magnifying lens inside the cave, so I start a fire outside with the lens,
load it enough to grab a torch, and plan to use the torch to start a fire in the cave.

Naturally, the game proves me wrong. I can use the lens inside the cave…
though to be fair, the fire was right near the entrance, so it’s basically “indoors” in the same way standing under
a bus stop counts as “shelter.”

The cave itself has a bed and bones. I don’t love the bones.
Bones usually mean “something big sleeps here,” and “something big” usually means bear.
I’ve never seen a bear in the basin in my past runs… but I also wouldn’t be shocked if an update made it possible.
The game’s whole brand is surprise consequences.

Cooking, Caution, and a Short Sleep

I cook whatever I can before sleeping. The goal is simple:
get warm, get fed, and don’t do anything that forces another panic retreat.

When I finally sleep, I keep it shorter than the fire’s remaining burn time.
I’m not repeating the mistake from earlier in this run where I sleep too long and wake up to a situation
that feels like punishment for having eyelids.

Farmhouse ambitions can wait. Tonight I’m alive, bandaged, and tucked into a cave that may or may not be a bear’s spare bedroom.
Interloper is about setting realistic goals.

Quick Notes (Steam Deck Survival Brain)

  • If you’re heavy, drop gear before travel. Wolves love slow targets.
  • After a struggle, fix pain + sprains immediately. Moving injured compounds risk fast.
  • Birds circling = calories, but expect awkward paths and time loss.
  • The mag lens can work near cave entrances when there’s enough light. Don’t assume “cave” means “no lens.”
  • Sleep shorter than your fire burn time when you can. Waking up cold is a classic run-ender.

Video

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 13 |
Unprepared Log 14 (You are here) |
Unprepared Log 15

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Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary – Log 6: Bought the Horse, Earned the Target

Cold-Blooded Log 6: Bought the Horse, Earned the Target

Difficulty: Survival Mode
Platform: Steam Deck
Build: Argonian Mage
Follower: Lydia

I set out with one clear objective: get a horse. Skyrim disagreed and added complications.

Today’s goal is simple. I want a horse. Walking everywhere in Skyrim feels like a personal attack,
and I’m tired of arriving late, cold, and already annoyed.

The problem is gold. I’m roughly 200 septims short.
Fortunately, I’ve got a bounty, which means it’s time to earn my transport the traditional way:
clearing out bandits who made poor life choices.

Video Log: Cold-Blooded – Log 6 (No Commentary)

White River Watch: A Field Test

On the way to Valtheim Towers, I pass White River Watch and decide it’s a good opportunity
to test my newest ally: the Flame Atronach.

The verdict is immediate. Between the Atronach and Lydia, the place clears itself.
I mostly supervise and loot.

The bandit leader doesn’t just die — he gets launched halfway down the mountain.
Gravity remains the most reliable damage source in Skyrim.

I find what looks like better armour for Lydia and a few extra weapons.
No idea if she’ll use them. I give options.

By the time the cave is empty, I’ve earned enough gold for a horse.
I still have a bounty to finish, but the pressure is off.

Bad Ideas and Standing Stones

I mountain-goat my way down the terrain instead of taking a sensible route.
This goes about as well as expected.

Another cave appears. Inside: trolls.
I let Lydia and the Atronach try.
I immediately retreat.
Some fights are warnings.

I find the Ritual Stone and briefly consider switching,
but I stick with the Mage Stone.
Consistency wins.

Valtheim Towers and an Unwanted Introduction

Valtheim Towers goes down without too much trouble.

On the way back to Whiterun, I meet my first other Argonian.
He tries to kill me.

A note on his body explains why:
the Dark Brotherhood has taken a contract on me.

I make a mental note to look into this later.
Preferably before they succeed.

The Horse, Finally

At the stables, I buy my horse.
No name yet.
I’m hoping inspiration strikes before tragedy does.

I collect my bounty reward, speak to Farengar about new spells,
and take a room at the Bannered Mare.

I also pick up another bounty at Silent Moon Camp.
It can wait.

Tomorrow’s priority is clear:
retrieving Nettlebane.

Log Summary

  • Flame Atronach tested and confirmed effective
  • White River Watch cleared
  • Valtheim Towers bounty completed
  • Dark Brotherhood contract discovered
  • Horse purchased
  • Next bounty deliberately postponed

Continue the Journey

Cold-Blooded Log 5 |
Cold-Blooded Log 6 |
Cold-Blooded Log 7

More from Cold-Blooded


Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary Hub

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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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Stranded Hub

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

Previous:
Log 4
Next:
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

Previous:
Cold-Blooded – Log 3
Next:
Cold-Blooded – Log 5

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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

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

1

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