Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 3: A Dangerous Amount of Luck

Unprepared Log 5 – Day 3: A Dangerous Amount of Luck

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

I woke up to a still-burning fire. That felt like a warning.

I could have slept longer, but I didn’t risk it. If the fire died while I was unconscious, this run would have ended quietly and for no good reason.

I packed the bedroll, lit a torch, and went looking for rabbits.

I found a wolf instead.

Only three days in, and it was already tracking me.

I backed off toward the cave, swapped torches, and tried to create space. It followed anyway. Calm. Patient. Waiting.

I made for the nearby basement. Inside, I found shelter—and a pair of socks. Not exciting, but warmer feet matter more than pride.

Listening Instead of Seeing

I left the basement and pushed toward Coastal Highway.

The cold was immediate. Visibility was worse. I couldn’t see far enough ahead to plan, so I relied on sound.

Crows.

They led me to a deer carcass half-buried in the snow.

I started a fire right beside it. The plan was simple: wait until it thawed enough to harvest by hand. No hacksaw. No hatchet. No margin for error.

Once it hit the threshold, I took what I could. Meat first. Then the hide. One gut came with it—useful as a decoy if things went bad, but hopefully something I could cure.

The meat went straight on the fire. I didn’t linger.

Pressure Never Really Leaves

I checked the nearby fishing hut for matches.

There were none.

As soon as I stepped back outside, another wolf appeared. I didn’t hesitate. I headed straight for the nearest house and got indoors.

Inside, I found something this run had been refusing to give me.

Matches.

I don’t know if they were there the last time I passed through. It didn’t matter. They were there now.

I took everything useful and moved on toward Quonset Garage, with yet another wolf keeping pace behind me.

Quonset Feels Wrong

The garage was generous.

Too generous.

More supplies than last time. Still no hacksaw—but then I saw another box of matches.

At that point, it stopped feeling like luck.

I now had over thirty matches. Enough that, for the first time this run, I considered not keeping a fire burning just to build skill.

There was even a lantern.

Interloper doesn’t usually feel this forgiving. When it does, it’s usually planning something.

Ending the Day on a Win

I didn’t change the plan.

Quonset is tempting, but staying too long is how runs stall and die. Mystery Lake is still the goal.

Before sleeping, I crafted a snare. If I have to stop near a rabbit grove, I want options. Rabbit hides mean gloves and hats—assuming I survive long enough to need them.

Day 3 ended on a win.

That doesn’t mean much on Interloper.

But tonight, it’s enough.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 2 |
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 4

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #4 – Day 3 & Day 4: Running on Fumes

Unprepared Log 4 – Days 3 & 4: Running on Fumes

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid

Food was a problem. Then the weather decided to make it worse.

With food still being the major concern, I would love to say I set out on a determined hunt.

I didn’t.

A blizzard was raging outside, so instead I did what Coastal Highway encourages best: hiding indoors and finding absolutely nothing.

I scavenged what buildings I could reach safely. Cupboards were empty. Drawers mocked me. Coastal Highway, it seems, had decided this run was optional.

Eventually the blizzard began to die down. Not gone — just tired enough to let me make bad decisions again.

Day 3: False Hope

I pushed out and searched a few more houses.

Nothing.

No food. No matches. No miracle tin of peaches hiding behind a chair.

By the end of the day, I accepted reality. I made water, ate what little I had left, and tried to stretch it further than it deserved.

It wasn’t enough, but it bought me another sunrise.

0

Day 4: The Realisation

I woke up in the red.

This felt like the last day of the run. And honestly, I was okay with that. I’d done better than expected, and if this was it, I wasn’t going out crawling.

I packed up and moved, daisy chaining torches as I went.

Then I heard it.

The unmistakable sound of a match being struck.

That’s when it clicked.

I wasn’t lighting torches from each other. I’d been burning through my matches instead.

I checked my inventory.

One torch left.

Jackrabbit Island Panic

I headed straight for Jackrabbit Island, hoping for a bailout.

No matches.

I wasn’t exactly searching calmly, so that one’s on me, but the result was the same.

I still had a flare. Technically, I could start another fire. Realistically, that meant committing to keeping it alive, and I wasn’t thrilled by that idea.

If Coastal Highway had matches, it was doing an excellent job of hiding them.

Beachcombing Salvation

If I was going down, I might as well see what the blizzard had left behind.

I went beachcombing.

And then I saw it.

A deer carcass.

I used my last lit torch to start a fire and got to work. Harvesting. Cooking. Feeding the flames like my life depended on it — because it did.

Then, at the worst possible moment, my TV turned itself off.

No warning. No grace period.

What followed was a mad dash to grab the Steam Deck, wake the screen, and pause the game before the battery ran out and the fire burned itself to death.

Nothing like real-world panic layered on top of Interloper panic.

Once things were stable again, I finished cooking.

For the first time in days, I had real food.

Misanthrope’s Gamble

I weighed my options one last time.

Misanthrope’s Homestead felt just barely reachable.

I took the gamble.

Along the way, I found rabbits and managed to grab two of them before pushing inside.

No matches.

But I did have two flares.

Two more fires. After that, the maths gets ugly.

End of Day 4

I slept for a few hours.

When I woke up, the aurora was dancing outside.

That story deserves its own entry.

I don’t know if I’ll survive another day.

But getting this far has done something dangerous.

It’s made me want to try harder next time.

1

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 2 |
Unprepared Log 4 – Final Day

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #4 – Day 2: Going Out on My Own Terms

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid
Desolation Point felt hostile, and I didn’t have the tools to argue with it.

Today’s plan was simple.

I don’t have much food. I don’t have a way to make arrowheads. I don’t have improvised tools, and there’s no forge access without committing to something dangerous.

Desolation Point has given me what it’s going to give me. Staying longer just felt like waiting to die.

So I decided to take a chance and head for Coastal Highway. If I was going to find anything that could stabilise this run, it would be there.

Before leaving, I made one last ditch attempt to find a bedroll.

No luck.

The Abandoned Mine

I aimed for the Abandoned Mine, grabbing coal along the way. Heavy, but worth it. Coal buys time, and time is everything right now.

The mine itself actually paid out — a prybar. Not a solution, but finally something that felt like progress.

On the way toward Crumbling Highway, a wolf picked me up and followed. It didn’t charge. It didn’t rush.

It just stayed close enough to remind me that mistakes here don’t come with warnings.

0

When the Wind Changes

This is where things go south fast.

I spotted a rabbit and felt that familiar pull — hunger making decisions louder than common sense. But the wind was picking up, and I knew what that meant.

I abandoned the idea of food and focused on shelter.

I found a cave just in time. Within minutes of getting inside, a blizzard hit.

No bed. No bedroll. No option to sleep.

I started a fire and waited it out, feeding it carefully and watching the storm rage outside. Every minute reinforced the same lesson:

I need a bedroll. Badly.

Coastal Highway, Briefly Lost

The blizzard eventually passed, and I pushed on into Coastal Highway.

I checked the first car I came across and somehow managed to get turned around almost immediately. The only reason I noticed was because I saw my own footprints in the snow.

I was sure there was an island with a house nearby. I locked onto what I thought was the right direction and tried to cross.

The ice was weak.

I tried again. Same result.

Eventually I gave up and aimed for the garage instead. I found out later that if I’d turned slightly more to the right, I would have spotted the island.

That one stings.

Quonset Garage

By this point, I was already planning my last words.

No food. Water was laughable. Condition dropping.

Then I saw it.

Quonset Garage.

If I could have run, I would have. I got inside, started a fire, and immediately found maple syrup. I drank it without hesitation.

I also found a hat, which meant my head was no longer completely exposed.

An aurora rolled in as well, lighting the place up and making the night feel just a little less hostile.

I considered heading back outside for more wood, but I remembered something important: a moose can spawn outside the garage.

I stayed put.

End of Day 2

Somehow, I made it through another day.

Tomorrow needs to be about food. I don’t know exactly how yet, but I can’t keep surviving on luck and syrup.

This is unfamiliar ground for me on Interloper.

And honestly?

I’m loving it.

1

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 1 |
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 3 & Day 4

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #4 – Day 1

Unprepared Log 4 – Day 1: Over the Line

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid
Save File: sandbox 1

Seeing as I’d had some luck with Astrid last time, I rolled with her again.

The game made the decision easy.

Once again, The Long Dark dropped me into Desolation Point.

Not the same spawn as before, but close enough that I immediately knew where I was — and what mattered.

No wandering. No optimism. I had a goal, and I moved.

Church, Sticks, and Determination

I made for the church first.

It had nothing of value. No tools. No food. No miracles.

Still, I grabbed sticks along the way. Every single one. This run was going to live or die by fire.

I also picked up reishi mushrooms. I knew I could turn those into tea later, and tea meant warmth and calories — both in short supply.

The Bridge Behaves

This time, I made it across the bridge.

No moose.

I assume Bridge Moose was on a day off.

I had a close encounter with a wolf shortly after, just enough to remind me not to get comfortable. I took a quick look around the nearby trailer. It was warm enough during the day to stop my temperature dropping.

Nighttime remained an unanswered question — but one I might need to test.

Back to the Whale Processing Unit

I headed straight for the Whale Processing Unit.

The matches were exactly where I’d found them last time.

That alone felt like momentum.

I got a fire going and went on a supply sweep. This time the area paid out properly.

Mittens. Socks. And a jumper from the safe.

Nothing fancy, but every layer mattered.

I made a mental note to visit the Riken at some point. Scrap metal would be important — assuming I could find a hacksaw.

Tea, Then Self-Sabotage

I brewed reishi tea.

Then I put a second one on.

And then I forgot about it.

Burned.

Entirely my fault. I was too busy feeding the fire and scanning my inventory for anything else that could keep it alive.

I cursed myself, but priorities hadn’t changed. I didn’t need perfection. I needed one full day.

The Hacksaw

I took a torch and went back outside to scout.

That’s when I spotted it.

A hacksaw.

Instant shift. This one tool changed everything. Scrap metal. Future tools. Actual progression.

For this run, the hacksaw wasn’t just useful — it was survival insurance.

Aurora Night

Rabbit hunting crossed my mind.

I shut it down immediately.

My aim is unreliable at the best of times, and the game decided to throw an aurora on my first night. I still remember how that ended in Hushed River Valley.

I wasn’t repeating that mistake.

I stayed inside and committed to the building for the night.

Eight Hours

Food was scarce, so I ate one item and stopped.

I pulled several torches from the fire. I knew I’d need them if I made it through the night.

I picked a bed and slept for eight hours.

When I woke up, the notification appeared.

Survive 24 hours on Interloper.

I’d done it.

Day one complete. Personal best. And for the first time, I was heading into day two with tools, warmth, and a chance.

0

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 3 – Day 1 |
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 1 (You Are Here) |
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑