Category: Survival Playthroughs

Eight Pages – A Slender: The Arrival Survival Diary Log 2: Strike One

Eight Pages – Log 2: Strike One

Platform: Steam Deck
Rule Set: Apex Predator Rule Active (1 / 3 Strikes)

Video: First strike recorded, a choke point mistake, and a second attempt under pressure (no commentary)

The forest drew first blood.

A little transparency before we begin properly. I had already stepped into this map once, collected the scrapbook items, and then realised I wasn’t recording. That’s why those pickups don’t show the usual notification. A strong start. Completely intentional. Obviously.

We continue where Log 1 left us. Survival instincts of a potato fully engaged, I head deeper into Oakside Park. As I pass what I assume is the canoe rental building — based entirely on a large sign suggesting that it is — my character slows. I hear something. It sounds like whispers carried on the air. Or maybe just wind doing a very good impression.

The pace returns to normal, but something has shifted. This is where the chapter really begins.

I reach the park layout sign and stop. The paths are mapped out clearly. Landmarks marked. I try to commit as much of it to memory as I can. I know this is going to matter later. Behind the sign is the first page. I take it.

And then I hear that sound.

It’s been over ten years since I last heard it, but it hasn’t lost its edge. That low, deliberate cue that signals one thing and one thing only: Slender has taken his first step.

Eight pages are scattered across the park. I need to collect them before he catches me. Simple objective. Complicated execution.

I didn’t make it to eight.

On page five, I entered a building. It had one entrance and one exit. I knew that. I went in anyway. I grabbed the page and turned around. He was already standing in the doorway.

No dramatic chase. No narrow escape. Just a blocked exit and rising static. I tried to push past him. He didn’t move. The screen filled with noise and the forest claimed its first strike.

Strike One.

Before going back in, I want to peel the curtain back for a moment.

This map never changes its shape. The paths stay where they are. The landmarks don’t move. There are nine key locations across the park, and eight of them will contain a page. Which eight changes each run, but the layout itself remains constant.

Slender’s behaviour escalates with every page collected. The more you gather, the more aggressive he becomes. By page seven, he is relentless. Sprinting feels like control, but stamina drains quickly, and once you commit to a bad position late-game, there’s little room for error.

Entering a single-exit building at five pages wasn’t unfair. It was poor timing. The forest didn’t cheat. It capitalised.

So I went back in.

Same park. Same layout. Different page placements. This time I found that same building early and cleared it immediately. I didn’t want to face that choke point near the end again. With the landmarks fixed in place, it becomes possible to track where you’ve been. Once you confirm a location has no page, you eliminate it from consideration. The park starts to shrink.

He appeared several times. Close enough to raise the static. Close enough to make me question my route. But not close enough to end it.

Seven pages collected. One missing.

I reached a fork in the path and hesitated. I took the right route first. It led back toward the car. Not what I needed. I doubled back, expecting him to be waiting. He wasn’t.

The other path led to a tent. And pinned against it, almost casually, was page eight.

I grabbed it. The footsteps stopped.

He appeared behind me. My character suddenly decided cardio was a priority and broke into a sprint before everything faded to black.

Map cleared.

But the forest has already taken one strike.

Two remain.

Log 2 Takeaways

  • A single-exit building at five pages is a calculated risk, not bad luck.
  • The map layout stays the same — page placement does not.
  • Slender escalates with every page collected.
  • Clearing choke points early changes the late-game pressure.
  • Strike One proves the Apex Predator Rule is active.
Continue the journey:

Log 1 |
Log 2 (You are here) |
Log 3

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 8: Upgrades, Interruptions, and Half a Plan

Submerged Log 8: Upgrades, Interruptions, and Half a Plan

Platform: Steam Deck
Survivor: Will

Video: Lifepod search, blueprint checks, and radio message fallout (no commentary)

At this point, lifepods feel less like rescue and more like themed disappointment.

With another lifepod location handed to me over the radio, I decide that’s the next logical stop.
Based on my current success rate, I’m not expecting survivors — and I’m right.

Before heading out, I check my blueprints. This is a mistake. Or a motivation boost.
The Seamoth list is stacked: fragments, upgrades, and a solar charging module that promises freedom
from constantly babysitting power cells.

I pin what looks useful and head out, already planning upgrades I absolutely do not have yet.

The Lifepod (Again)

No survivors. No surprises. Just the ocean doing what it does best.

What I do find is lithium — which is genuinely useful. Several of my blueprints need it.
The problem is the usual one: I find one node, then spend far too long failing to find another.

Eventually, frustration wins. I abandon the search and head back to base,
completely forgetting that this trip was also meant to scout a future base location.
Seamoth upgrades take priority over long-term planning.

Alterra Checks In

Back at the lifepod, the radio crackles again — and this time it’s not another survivor.

The message sounds official. Alterra knows what happened. They know rescue will take a long time.
But they have an alternative.

The Captain’s Quarters aboard the Aurora is intact. There’s a black box.
I’m given the code to access the quarters and instructions that supposedly help me
“meet them halfway.”

All of this unfolds while someone in the background pesters them about a lunch run.
Apparently, ordering food is a higher priority than stranding protocol.

The Missing Step

On paper, escape now sounds possible. In practice, there are problems.
I’m still infected, and the giant alien laser hasn’t exactly signalled that I’m free to leave.

I turn my attention back to something I can control: the Seamoth solar charger.
I gather the materials. I go to the fabricator.

Nothing.

I check the Mobile Vehicle Bay. Still nothing.
I have what I need, but I’m missing a step somewhere — blueprint, fragment, or prerequisite.
Classic Subnautica.

With upgrades stalled and questions piling up, the next move is obvious:
back to the Aurora, into the Captain’s Quarters, and finally find out
what Alterra thinks “halfway” actually means.

Continue the journey:
Previous Log |
Next Log
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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 15: Wolves, Wind, and a Six-Hob Victory

Unprepared Log 15: Wolves, Wind, and a Six-Hob Victory

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

I wake up alive. No bear. The bar is low, but it’s still a win.

First check: surroundings. Still breathing, still standing, and the farmhouse is still on my mind.
Cabin Fever risk is gone for the moment, which means I can actually loot houses without the game
threatening me with imaginary illness.

I leave Milton Basin and point myself toward the farmhouse.
No sightseeing. Just movement.

Post Office Luck, Sort Of

I detour to the post office and immediately find another magnifying lens.
It’s in worse condition than my first one, so it becomes the expendable option.

Indoor lens stays safe.
This one gets sacrificed to outdoor fires and bad weather.

I also find a fish.
That becomes a logistics problem.

Greymother’s Sprint and Wolf: Round Three

I do a quick sprint to Greymother’s house because the wolf is back.
Again.

I dump supplies inside:

  • Fish
  • Deer hide
  • Animal fat

Then I head back out to start a fire.
The wind is already acting suspicious.

I cook the fish and some rose hips, grab a torch, and immediately see the wind lining up to blow it out.

The wolf returns for round three.
We stand there staring at each other like this is a negotiation.

I throw the torch.
The wolf does not care.

I light a flare because I am not giving it any excuse.
Naturally, it decides to follow me anyway.

Eventually it breaks off and goes after either a rabbit or a deer on the farmland.
I don’t check which.
I accept the distraction and move on with my life.

Farmhouse Loot and Duplicate Tools

While looting, the game decides to be generous in a very specific way.

  • Another Heavy Hammer
  • A replacement Prybar

The hammer matters.
It means I don’t have to go all the way back to Mystery Lake just to fetch one.

I will still need to return eventually for my bow and arrows,
but that requires arrowheads and an improvised knife first.
Which means a forge.

Closest option: Forlorn Muskeg.

The Key, the Fire, and the Six-Hob Fantasy

The farmhouse key is around the back.
Of course it is.

I get the fire going just before my flare burns out.
Timing feels good for once.

Then I go all in on cooking.

  • Water
  • Porridge
  • Teas
  • Potatoes

Six hobs.
No waiting.
No juggling timers.
This is Interloper luxury.

I find a replacement flare in the bathroom.
Still annoyed I had to use the other one.
But balance is restored.

I consider repairing my hacksaw, then remember reality.
I need my simple toolkit and scrap metal first.
Interloper does not do impulse maintenance.

Tomorrow’s Plan: Forge or Die Trying

Tomorrow’s goals are simple on paper and dangerous in practice:

  • Drop anything I don’t need
  • Grab enough scrap metal
  • Forge an improvised knife
  • Forge arrowheads
  • Reach the forge in Forlorn Muskeg
  • Avoid thin ice
  • Avoid bears

Standard Interloper expectations.

Just another day where the game didn’t kill me.
Which, on Interloper, counts as progress.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 14 |
Unprepared Log 16

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Stranded: A Minecraft Survival Diary – Log 6: The Village and the Explosion

Stranded – Log 6: The Village and the Explosion

Game: Minecraft
Mode: Hard Survival
Platform: Steam Deck

Exploration felt more productive than mining. That assumption didn’t last.

The mine hasn’t been giving me what I need, so I decided to head further afield. Before leaving, I watched a zombie burn itself down outside the house. Once it finished accepting its fate, I took that as my cue to move.

My base appears to sit where several biomes intersect. One direction leads into desert, which feels completely different to the jungle-like wood surrounding my retreat. The contrast was enough reason to choose it.

A Tower on the Horizon

After travelling for a while, I spotted a tower in the distance. My first thought was pillager outpost. I adjusted my expectations accordingly.

It turned out to be a village.

The villagers didn’t react to my presence, even while I searched their chests. Mostly wheat and bread. Nothing exceptional, but a village changes the long-term outlook. Trade becomes possible. Structure becomes possible.

I spoke to a few of them to see what roles they carried, then decided to return home. I could have stayed the night there. They had beds. They had shelter. But I wanted my own.

On the walk back, I began thinking about infrastructure — perhaps a direct tunnel linking my base to the village so I wouldn’t need to rely on spotting the tower each time.

That was when I realised my first mistake.

I had no idea which direction I had travelled to get there.

Night Decisions

Darkness arrived quickly. I could have built a temporary shelter and waited. It would have been simple and safe.

Instead, I decided to see how well I could defend myself.

The first skeleton engaged at range. I blocked several arrows cleanly with my shield and felt confident enough in the exchange. Then a second skeleton appeared. Two on one.

I kept blocking and repositioning. At that point, I still rated my chances of survival as high.

Then I heard the hiss.

The explosion ended the calculation immediately. The message confirmed it: blown up by a creeper. What had been two enemies had quietly become three.

Not the End

In a hardcore world, that would have been the end of the run. This world is set to Hard survival. The death stands. The mistake stands.

It felt frustrating rather than dramatic. A shelter would have prevented it. A pause would have prevented it. Instead, I chose to keep moving.

Next log, I return properly equipped with whatever remains in storage and head back out. The village still exists. The direction needs rediscovering.

Exploration offers opportunity. It also exposes weaknesses.

Continue the Journey

Previous Log | Next Log
Stranded Hub

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Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary – Log 7: The Horse Has Opinions

Cold-Blooded Log 7: The Horse Has Opinions

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

The plan was simple: ride out, grab Nettlebane, come home. Skyrim immediately rewrote it.

This is the horse’s first real outing.
The objective is Nettlebane.
I know the route takes me past Helgen, and that’s about all I know.

To keep things efficient, I bring Clairvoyance.
If there’s a faster or safer path, I want to know about it.

Video Log: Cold-Blooded – Log 7 (No Commentary)

YouTube embed goes here

Clairvoyance Takes Control

About halfway into the ride, confusion sets in.
I’m going in the opposite direction of where I expect to be heading.

I ignore the instinct to turn back and trust Clairvoyance.
This turns out to be a mistake.

A map check confirms it:
I’m near Silent Moon Camp.
The bounty location.

I’m fairly sure it wasn’t my active quest,
but Clairvoyance clearly disagreed and made the decision for me.

Silent Moon Camp, Horse Included

Since I’m already here, I clear the camp.
Leaving would be a waste.

I park the horse a short distance away before the fight.
The horse ignores this suggestion entirely.

The moment combat starts, it charges bandits with enthusiasm.
Between Lydia, my summoned Atronach, and now an aggressive horse,
the fight feels heavily one-sided.

I briefly consider the tactical implications of owning a battle horse.
Then I loot the bodies.

Locks, Potions, and Questionable Planning

Inside, I hit my first real obstacle:
an Adept-level lock.

It costs me a painful number of lockpicks,
but I get it open.

The reward is a pile of potions.
I have no plan for them.
I don’t know if I’ll ever use them,
or if Lydia should carry them and sort it out herself.

That decision is officially a future problem.

Rewards and Reassessment

With the bounty cleared, I return to Whiterun.
Before I can even collect the reward,
I’m handed a sword.

I don’t question it.
Skyrim likes giving me weapons I didn’t ask for.

Back outside the city, the horse gives me options.
I could head for the Greybeards.
I could try for Nettlebane again.

Given Clairvoyance’s earlier betrayal,
I decide not to push my luck.

I stop, reassess, and decide the next move needs to be deliberate.
Skyrim already proved it’s more than happy to choose for me.

Log Summary

  • Horse used in combat, without consent
  • Clairvoyance redirected me to Silent Moon Camp
  • Silent Moon Camp bounty completed
  • Adept lock opened after heavy lockpick losses
  • Large potion stash acquired, purpose unclear
  • Nettlebane postponed again

Continue the Journey

Cold-Blooded Log 6 |
Cold-Blooded Log 7 |
Cold-Blooded Log 8

More from Cold-Blooded


Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary Hub

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Isolation Protocol: An Alien Isolation Survival Diary – Log 2: Guns, Generators, and a Very Bad Introduction

Isolation Protocol Log 2: Guns, Generators, and a Very Bad Introduction

Game: Alien: Isolation
Platform: Steam Deck
Location: Sevastopol Station – Arrivals & Transit

Video: Arrivals scavenging, orange-lock hunt, Axel meet, stealth tutorial, and first Xenomorph encounter (no commentary)

I saw people run. I decided copying them was a solid life choice.

The last log ended with survivors sprinting for their lives. I followed.
They rewarded that decision by locking the door behind them.
So, plan B: keep moving, keep quiet, and keep pretending I’m not the most lootable person on Sevastopol.

I drifted through what felt like the off-duty end of Arrivals/Departures and caught a glimpse of the Torrens.
Of course, they didn’t see me. Of course, the shutters chose that exact moment to drop like they had opinions.
New objective: find a way to contact the ship before I become another unread terminal entry.

Loot Goblin Behaviour (With Added Dread)

Progress is slow. Not “enjoy the scenery” slow — more “every door is either locked, unpowered, or mocking me” slow.
I kept scavenging anything not bolted down, reading terminals, and listening to messages from people who used to live here.
I still don’t know what happened on Sevastopol, but I’m confident it was loud, messy, and not solved by good manners.

Then I found it: a door with a big orange lock.
Not my problem yet, but definitely my future problem.
And it wasn’t the only one. The station’s decorating theme is apparently “sealed access points and regret.”

The Maintenance Jack Incident

A message mentioned someone going nuts with a maintenance jack, and that they’d been locked in a room.
I eventually found them… and it looked like one of two things happened:
something killed him, or he killed himself.

The room had an orange lock. If he had the tool to open it, he could’ve walked out.
So I’m leaning toward something got in — and that “something” didn’t leave a note.

Before committing to the obvious route, I did a quick sweep through the one other door I could open,
grabbed what I could, and then headed back toward the big, bright, orange problem.

Meet Axel: The Gun-Point Welcome Committee

Cutscene time. I meet Axel, who opens negotiations by putting a gun to my head.
I offered him a way off Sevastopol: help me contact the Torrens, and he gets a seat.
Fair deal. Mutually beneficial. Sensible.

Axel doesn’t share that offer with the two other people we bump into, though.
Which, in hindsight, should’ve been my first clue that “teamwork” isn’t exactly thriving here.

Flashlight, Batteries, and the Stealth Crash Course

Axel takes me to his hideout — apparently where he’s been camping for the past week —
and hands me a flashlight and batteries.
Great. Useful.
Also: we literally just avoided armed survivors, and he told me to avoid armed survivors,
so giving me a beacon-on-a-stick feels… optimistic.

Then it’s stealth school.
I get sent to turn off a generator so a group of people — who have been told to shoot on sight —
go and investigate it.
At this point I’m already regretting offering Axel a lift.
I didn’t realise “help me escape” included “use me as bait.”

Axel Immediately Does the Opposite of His Own Advice

Axel’s big survival tips are: stay low, keep quiet, don’t draw attention.
Five minutes later he’s standing around like he’s waiting for a bus.
Not even hiding. Just… existing loudly in a corridor.

I ended up taking charge and basically herding him where he needed to go,
because apparently I’m the responsible adult now.
Which is terrifying, considering my main skill so far is “pick up scrap.”

And then Axel does it again: he headshots someone.
Loud. Clean. Final.
The exact opposite of “keep it down.”
So now we’re sprinting, because subtlety is dead and we’re trying not to join it.

The Xenomorph Introduces Itself

Another cutscene. And this time the station finally shows its real problem:
the Xenomorph.
It appears, it moves like a nightmare, and it removes Axel from my list of concerns.

I had a brief moment of wondering why Ripley doesn’t grab the gun.
Maybe it feels wrong. Maybe it’s shock. Maybe the game isn’t letting me.
Either way, I’m unarmed, underqualified, and very aware of how loud my breathing is.

Transit becomes the next lifeline — a long, stressful wait while my brain replays what I just saw.
The Xenomorph took Axel out like it was swatting a fly.
There’s absolutely no reason it wouldn’t do the same to me.

Transit finally arrives, and I step in like it’s salvation.
I’m hoping I’ve left the Xenomorph behind.
I’m also not stupid enough to believe that will last.

Log 2 Survival Notes

  • Loot everything, but assume every corridor has a consequence.
  • Orange locks = future progress gate. Make a note, don’t spiral.
  • Terminals and recordings tell you what happened here. It isn’t comforting.
  • Stealth matters, even when NPCs refuse to participate.
  • If someone says “keep it down” and then fires a gun, don’t follow their life advice.
  • Transit is safety… until it isn’t.
Continue the journey:
Log 1 | Log 3
1

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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Stranded: A Minecraft Survival Diary – Log 5: Iron, Coal, and Delayed Ambitions

Stranded – Log 5: Iron, Coal, and Delayed Ambitions

Game: Minecraft
Mode: Survival
Platform: Steam Deck

“The Nether can wait. I’d rather arrive prepared than become ash.”

I want to head to the Nether, but not like this. Not in partial armour and wishful thinking. I know where lava is. I know the next phase is possible. What I don’t have yet is the gear to survive it.

The day starts with a brief scuffle and an immediate reminder that I set my own control scheme and apparently don’t remember it. At some point during the fight I managed to put cobblestone in my offhand. I have no idea which button I pressed. One moment I was armed, the next I was ready to aggressively place blocks at something. I corrected it, reassured myself that I was in control, and headed for the mine.

Back Underground

Not long after starting, my copper pickaxe broke. The timing felt deliberate. Darkness was creeping in outside, and rather than deal with whatever the night might bring, I did the sensible thing and went to bed. The monsters can wait until morning.

Of course they’d chosen to linger beneath the trees. I made a mental note that at some point I’ll need to thin the forest. Lumberjack duties are now officially on the list.

Morning brought a zombie who stepped into the sunlight and promptly set itself on fire. I still managed to prove that I’m not particularly strong in combat. Watching something burn itself down while I struggled nearby wasn’t exactly heroic, but it was effective.

Digging Deeper

I used that mild embarrassment as motivation. I expanded the mine another four blocks down and built a makeshift spiral staircase so I can descend without trusting gravity too much. The staircase isn’t elegant, but it’s controlled. Controlled is enough.

An inventory check revealed iron. Not a vein worth celebrating, but enough to craft something. I chose a helmet and boots based purely on what I could afford. It’s not full protection, but it’s progress.

With some wood gathered, I finally crafted a shield. After more experimentation with the right control stick — continuing my apparent theme of not knowing my own button layout — it found its place in my offhand. The difference was immediate. Even if I can’t always remember how I did it, at least now I’m carrying something that might forgive mistakes.

Coal, Leaks, and Unwanted Company

The mine has been productive, just not in the way I want. Coal everywhere. Cobblestone in overwhelming quantities. If armour could be shaped from stone, I’d be fully equipped by now.

I’ve had to plug several water leaks as well. It reached the point where I considered digging down another level purely out of frustration. That decision was reinforced when I started hearing Drowned somewhere nearby. I don’t need to see them. The sound is enough.

I’m still salty about the Drowned that ended my first hardcore world. That grudge hasn’t faded.

The Single Piece of Iron

While preparing the staircase for the next descent, I spotted iron and felt genuine excitement. For a brief moment I pictured real progress — armour that actually protects and tools that don’t feel temporary.

It was one block.

I stood there for a second longer than necessary, staring at it as if more might appear out of sympathy. It didn’t.

I mined it anyway and decided to remain on that level. If there was one piece, maybe there would be more nearby.

There wasn’t. Just more coal. At least the furnaces won’t go hungry.

Reset and Regroup

Rain eventually rolled in, and I realised I’d been awake for several in-game days. Phantoms are not something I intend to deal with while half-prepared and underground, and fatigue has a way of turning small mistakes into permanent ones. Rather than push my luck, I headed back to bed and reset the cycle deliberately.

Before turning in, I crafted an iron sword. It’s not the full kit I want, but it’s something solid in my hand. I still need an iron chestplate and leggings before I even consider making serious Nether preparations. Ideally, I’d like spare weapons too.

Next entry might mean digging deeper again. Or I might surface and see what else this world offers. Villagers would be useful. Given how this mine has treated me so far, I wouldn’t be surprised if I found pillagers first.

Continue the Journey

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