Tag: Day One Diary

Seven Days to Survive – Day 3: Honey, Zombies, and Home Improvements

Difficulty: Default Survival
Optional Rules: Permadeath, one horde night per week
“If you ever find yourself cornered by two zombies in a stranger’s living room, just remember: honey is nature’s antibiotic. Who knew bee juice would keep me alive?”

The Fetch Quest of Doom

The morning began with me jogging toward the latest house that Trader Rekt wanted looted for supplies. From the outside, it looked quiet — shutters drawn, roof sagging slightly, just another abandoned suburban home. But this is 7 Days to Die, so I knew the interior would be less “suburban charm” and more “screaming corpses.”

Sure enough, as soon as I hit the flag at the back of the property and stepped inside, the soundscape turned into a zombie alarm clock. Two of them barreled toward me, cutting off my escape. I managed to fight my way out, but not without a parting gift: infection. Perfect.

After clearing the stragglers and pocketing the supplies, I searched my pack for antibiotics. Nothing. A return trip to Papaw Residence confirmed the same — unless you count decorative piles of junk and a near-useless jar of murky water. But buried in a chest was salvation: honey. Exactly the right cure for my low-level infection. Bee magic saves the day.

Medical Centre Run

I staggered back to Rekt’s, handed over the supplies, and chose skill books as my reward. Then I spent some coin on more honey, because clearly zombies see me as a chew toy. Another fetch quest? Why not. This one sent me toward what looked like a pop-up medical centre — white tarps, overturned stretchers, and the distinct impression that the last patients didn’t leave voluntarily.

The zombies inside were fewer and slower, which suited my still-throbbing wounds. Looting the shelves, I stumbled on something that felt like Christmas morning: a cooking grill. Finally, the days of choking down charred snake meat are behind me. Now I can prepare food that doesn’t taste like it came out of a campfire accident.

I cleared the building, snagged the supplies, and returned to Rekt. My reward? Charred meat. Honestly, I think the man is trolling me. “Here’s some food, survivor.” Yes, Rekt, I literally just looted the thing that makes your reward obsolete. Thanks for nothing, champ.

Dew Collector Dreams

Back at Papaw, I started eyeing my supplies. Between yesterday’s scavenging and today’s haul, I realised I was close to crafting a Dew Collector. After a bit more rummaging and resource-gathering, the parts came together. I placed the contraption outside, whispered a hopeful prayer to the condensation gods, and waited.

After five minutes of staring at a metal bucket with mesh, I admitted that Dew Collectors are not exciting to watch in real time. With thirst still an issue, I decided to channel my boredom into base-building. The first layer of the horde base is now fully cobblestone. The second layer is patchwork, half cobble, half wood. The third layer? Still dreams and dust. At least I can say progress is being made, even if it looks more like a construction site than a fortress.

Thirst, the Silent Killer

The Dew Collector is great in theory, but water production is glacial. By mid-afternoon I was dehydrated again — stumbling around with blurry vision like I’d been on a pub crawl with the undead. Tomorrow, water is priority number one. Either the trader sells me a stash, or I’m boiling every murky puddle I find.

Still, the looming problem isn’t just thirst. It’s the horde night clock. Day 4 is practically here, and my base is still an empty shell. If I don’t switch gears soon, the zombies will be less “contained threat” and more “unwanted guests knocking down my half-finished walls.” Tomorrow, the hammer and cobblestone get priority — fetch quests can wait.

Continue the Journey

Day 2 | Day 3 (You Are Here) | Day 4 (Coming Soon)

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Seven Days to Survive – Day 2: Chickens, Bandages, and Pipe Bomb Decisions

Difficulty: Chill Solo
Optional Features: XP set to 150%

“The chicken wasn’t faster than me — it was simply playing 4D chess while I was stuck with a stone axe.”

Adjustments and Priorities

Loading back in, I realised I’d left my XP multiplier at default. Rookie mistake. Bumped it up to 150% — because if I’m going to die to zombies, I’d at least like to die while leveling a little faster.
First order of business: a buried food stash quest. Second: the elusive dew collector. The recipe calls for 100 scrap polymers, 4 short iron pipes, 4 duct tape, and ideally a water filter. Since I don’t have the filter yet, I’ll only get murky water — but with a cooking pot in the campfire, I can still boil it into something drinkable. Not glamorous, but thirst makes you less picky.

Survivor’s Tip: Dew Collector Water

  • With Water Filter: Collects clean water directly — no cooking needed.
  • Without Water Filter: Collects murky water. Use a cooking pot on the campfire to boil it safe.
  • Murky water is better than no water — just don’t forget to boil it, unless you enjoy dysentery roleplay.

The Chicken Incident

On the way, I decide to test my hunting skills. Enter: chicken. Exit: all my dignity. The little feathered gremlin zig-zagged through the grass like a professional sprinter, forcing me to waste more arrows than I care to admit.
After some zombie interference (probably hired muscle for the chicken mafia), I finally down it. A bone knife later, I had meat for dinner and a stockpile of feathers for arrows.

Blood and Bandages

At the buried stash location, a zombie ambushed me and managed to inflict a bleed. Thank you, starting bandage — you’ve earned your retirement.
Note to self: learn how to craft more. Turns out all you need is cotton → cloth fragments → bandage. Problem solved. My feather surplus also became arrow surplus. Feeling slightly more capable, I dug up the stash and headed back to Trader Rekt.

Pipe Bombs for Later

Rekt offered me a tough choice of rewards. I went with five pipe bombs, because nothing says “Horde Night insurance” like handheld explosives.
Next stop: Papaw residence to unload my loot, then scouting a new Horde base location.

First Steps Toward Horde Night

I laid out the foundations of a 6×3 base. Not glamorous, not reinforced, but it’s a start. I’ll reveal more of its design on the big night — for now, just know it exists, it’s square-ish, and it’s mine.
With daylight fading, I tried to squeeze in a fetch quest, but after one zombie fight it was already 9pm. Jogging zombies are not on my wishlist, so I postponed.

Evening at Papaw’s

Back at Papaw’s, I cooked up my chicken, learned eggs can be eaten raw (filed under: desperate measures), and salvaged what I could.
A zombie came knocking on my door uninvited, so I introduced them to my club. Afterwards, I excitedly crafted an armor crafting kit — only to immediately discover I had no clue how to use it. Survival irony at its finest.

Looking Ahead

Day 2 ends with preparations in motion but confidence on shaky legs. I’ve got pipe bombs, a half-built base, and one less chicken in the world. Tomorrow, I’ll knock out that fetch quest early and dedicate daylight to shoring up my defenses. Horde Night is coming, and I need all the help I can get.

Continue the journey:
Day 1 | Day 2 (You Are Here) | Day 3
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Seven Days to Survive – Day 1: Punching Trees, Evicting Corpses

Seven Days to Survive – Day 1: Punching Trees, Evicting Corpses

Difficulty: Default Survival
Optional Rules: Permadeath, one horde night per week

“I woke up in front of a caravan with a few scraps, a stone-axe dream, and a passive-aggressive note from the Duke. Welcome to 7 Days to Die.”

The Duke Hates Me, Trees Hate My Fists

Like every survival game worth its salt, the tutorial goes like this: punch nature until it gives up resources. Twigs, stones, and grass became my new currency. Before long I’d cobbled together a stone axe, wooden bow, arrows, a club, and some basic armor. The Duke’s instructions? Go see Trader Rekt. Fine. But I’m docking him points for management style.

Papaw Residence: Home Sweet Maybe

On the way, I found the Papaw Residence. Inside: zombies, a cooking pot, and — after several panicked swings and one deeply ungraceful bow shot — victory. A few quick wood frames in the doorways, some repair slapdash on the windows, and I served my first eviction notice to the undead. I dropped the land-claim block because… the tutorial said so. It’s just me out here, but sure, paperwork matters.

Administrative Hostility at Trader Rekt

Rekt handed me a shovel and told me to dig. When I stepped back outside, a zombie was loitering like security had gone on break. A couple of club taps later, the parking lot was clear and my cardio stat was emotionally damaged.

Diggy Diggy Hole (ft. Immediate Zombie)

Quest in hand, shovel in pocket, I marched out to unearth supplies. Within seconds of my first swing, the dirt complained — and so did a nearby zombie, who arrived to file a noise complaint with his teeth. One frantic scuffle later, I was back to the dwarven anthem: “I’m a dwarf, and I’m digging a hole.” Every thunk felt like ringing a dinner bell for the next groaner, but the stash popped and I grabbed the goods.

Snake on a Path

On the return leg I spotted a snake. Compared to the zombies outside Rekt’s place and the dig site, this was stress relief with scales. One arrow later, dinner. The bone knife I’d made earlier turned it into tidy cuts for the pot.

Night by the Fire

Back at Papaw, I set up a campfire, boiled every drop of murky water I’d hoarded, cooked snake meat, and tossed a couple of potatoes on for good measure. The house creaked, the wind howled, and distant moans reminded me that the homeowners’ association here is very hands-on.

Day 1 Reflections

Base secured (ish). Water safe (mostly). Food cooked (definitely snake). I’ve got another buried supplies quest from Rekt lined up for tomorrow and the horde clock has quietly started ticking. One day survived. Seven? We’ll see.

Day 1 Pro Tips (7 Days to Die Edition)

  • Gather early, gather often: Grass, stones, and wood fuel your first tools and defenses.
  • Craft the basics fast: Stone axe, wooden club, wooden bow + arrows, and primitive armor.
  • Secure a roof: A fixer-upper beats the outdoors. Frame and patch doors/windows immediately.
  • Cooking pot = jackpot: Boil water safely and expand your recipe list.
  • Bone knife bonus: Butchering with it yields more meat, hides, and resources.
  • Expect company when digging: Shovels are loud. Fight, reset, keep scanning 360°.
  • Trader quests pay: Early tools, food, meds, and dukes — stack them for momentum.
  • Night jobs: Boil water, cook, sort loot, plan upgrades. Don’t waste the dark.
Continue the journey:
Day 1 (You Are Here) |
Day 2

← Back to Seven Days to Survive Hub

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Surviving the Milky Way: An Elite Dangerous Survival Diary – Day 2: The Rustbucket Rises

Day 2 – The Rustbucket Rises

“These are the voyages of one unprepared Commander. Their mission: to break in a second-hand Adder, deliver mail faster than expected, and discover that cargo pickups can crash more than just your ship.”

From Scraprunner to Rustbucket

The ISS Scraprunner got me this far, but when I spotted an Adder for sale, I couldn’t resist. A few credits later and some questionable tinkering produced the ISS Rustbucket, registry RBT-01. Upgrades included a new Frame Shift Drive, thrusters, fuel scoop, more cargo racks, and an extra weapon. The one thing I didn’t touch? Shields. Whether that’s wisdom or hubris, time will tell.

Courier Life

The mission board offered one contract labelled high threat. I decided exploding wasn’t on today’s agenda and picked safer jobs instead:

  • A data delivery to Marius Relay in the Col 285 Sector AM-R b19-4 system.
  • An agricultural supply run—which bizarrely meant transporting six units of personal weapons—to Wesker’s Pride in the Col 285 Sector BV-E a41-1 system.

On the way to Marius Relay, I got a message offering a bonus for quick delivery. Challenge accepted. The new fuel scoop kicked in automatically, topping up my tank as I skimmed stars. Docking complete, data handed over, and I even ranked up to Peddler. Not glamorous, but it’s better than “galactic stowaway.”

The Cargo That Wasn’t

Then it hit me—I hadn’t actually collected the weapons before leaving. Back to the station I went, already dreading the 20+ jump route ahead. It would at least be a good test for the Rustbucket’s scoop, or so I told myself.

Ten minutes of fiddling with menus later, I finally thought I’d sorted the cargo pickup. That’s when the game crashed. Server connection lost, mission abandoned. The Rustbucket sat waiting, but my courier career ended in digital silence.

Rustbucket Status Report

  • Ship: ISS Rustbucket (Adder)
  • Upgrades: FSD, thrusters, fuel scoop, cargo racks, weapons
  • Untouched: Shields (future-me will regret this)
  • Rank: Peddler
  • Mood: Triumphant → Confused → Disconnected

Next Time

With the Rustbucket ready and the galaxy waiting, I’ll try again. Hopefully the servers stay awake long enough for me to actually deliver cargo. Otherwise, I’ll just become the Milky Way’s most overqualified data courier.

Continue the Journey

← Day 1 | Day 2 (You Are Here) | Day 3 →

Surviving the Milky Way: Series Hub

The Rules of the Stars

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My First Week with the Steam Deck: Expanding the Portable Chaos

My First Week with the Steam Deck: Expanding the Portable Chaos

“It’s not replacing my Switch — just giving the wolves more ways to find me.”

Back to PC… Sort Of

Once upon a time I had a PC. Then I didn’t. Then the Steam Deck came along, and suddenly all those forgotten Steam library games started whispering: “Play us again. This time you won’t rage-quit… probably.”

The first thing I did? Downloaded Viscera Cleanup Detail. Nothing says “welcome back to PC gaming” like mopping up alien goo while questioning your life choices.

Truck Sim Therapy

After that, I traded my mop for a lorry. Euro Truck Simulator 2 has been my chill-out spot — just me, the open road, and the occasional catastrophic parking attempt. It’s strangely peaceful knowing my cargo can’t eat me (unlike certain survival games).

Game-Hopping, Incognito Style

My first week has basically been a buffet of Steam games:

  • Alan Wake – because why not swap blizzards for shadows?
  • Dead by Daylight – handheld horror on the go, what could possibly go wrong.
  • Elite Dangerous – back to the black, this time from the sofa.
  • Team Fortress 2 – nostalgia and chaos, still alive and kicking.
  • 7 Days to Die – zombies don’t care that I’m handheld now.

I’ve been swapping between them like a survivor looting random cupboards: some junk, some gold, all of it entertaining.

Battery, Docks, and Prime Loot

Do I have a dock? No. Will I get one? Unsure. For now, handheld works fine — especially since the battery life is short, but honestly, I don’t mind. It’s like an enforced survival timer: finish your mission before the Deck keels over.

Also, shoutout to Prime Gaming for handing me freebies like it’s Christmas every week. It makes my library grow faster than I can play it.

A Companion, Not a Replacement

The Steam Deck isn’t stealing my Switch’s crown. My Switch is still home to The Long Dark, Skyrim, and the rest of my survival disasters. But the Deck? It’s a welcome companion — giving me the chance to replay old PC titles, test new survival challenges, and expand the chaos beyond Nintendo’s snowy borders.

Two handhelds. Twice the worlds to survive. Zero guarantees I’ll survive any of them.

Continue the Journey

Survivor’s Camp Hub |
Elite Dangerous Diary |
SnowRunner Permagear Diaries

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Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Final Day

Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Final Day

Difficulty: Normal
Optional Features: Permadeath enabled (naturally)

“They say the sea is unpredictable. Turns out the real danger was bacon on legs.”

Weather / Loot / Mood

  • Weather: Pre-dawn calm, rising chop mid-crossing, sun blazing by mid-morning
  • Loot: One rock (upgraded into a knife), empty shipping container, one near-death experience
  • Mood: Optimistic → seasick → suspicious → hogged off the mortal coil

Goodbye, Starter Island

I woke before sunrise, sipped the last drips from my water still, and realised food was once again my biggest problem. My emergency coconut stash stared back at me like an unsolvable puzzle — great for hydration, but without a knife, they were just spherical disappointments. The conclusion was obvious: this island had given me all it could, and it was time for me to move on.

Two new islands called from the horizon, their silhouettes promising fresh loot and maybe, just maybe, an edible dinner. I picked one, whispered a fond but brief farewell to my starting island, and began the process of leaving. This was a mistake — not the leaving, but underestimating how much my raft had bonded with the beach.

Raft Wrestling & Ocean Gymnastics

Step one was prising the raft off the sand. The thing behaved like it had signed a long-term tenancy agreement and was not about to leave voluntarily. Once I freed it, I faced my next foe: the paddle, which seemed determined to stay attached like a stubborn remora. Then came the ocean itself.

Within minutes, my crossing turned into an impromptu extreme sport. I capsized more times than I care to admit, each time righting the raft while muttering things not suitable for a survival diary. The swell toyed with me, and every few waves I was convinced I’d see a shark fin break the surface. But eventually, the new island came into focus — and with it, signs of potential treasure. A red shipping container sat on the shore, while offshore, a wooden pole jutted out of the water. Wreckage? Supplies? Or just an elaborate distraction?

New Shore, New Knife, No Loot

Landfall came with an overwhelming sense of relief. First priority: tools. I grabbed a rock, worked it into a knife, and set out to investigate the shipping container. The excitement lasted right up until I swung the door open to reveal… absolutely nothing. No food, no tools, not even decorative debris. My mood sank faster than my raft had earlier that morning.

Still, the island was bigger than it first appeared, with palm trees casting long shadows across the sand. Somewhere out here, there had to be food. Or at least something less likely to stab me in the stomach than my own hunger.

The Hog Strikes Back (…Twice, Actually Thrice)

That’s when I saw it: a hog. Large, broad-shouldered, and wearing the kind of expression that suggested it already hated me. Before I could take a step back, it charged — no hesitation, no negotiation, just a blur of tusks and fury.

Desperation kicked in. I fought back with my newly crafted knife, scoring a few hits before it bolted into the undergrowth. Victory? Not quite. As I turned to check my surroundings, I spotted a snake winding its way across the sand. Excellent — protein! I lunged, only for the hog to return for round two. We clashed again, my health dropping with each collision.

By the time round three began, I was already bleeding and winded. I’d love to say I managed a heroic counter, but the truth is the hog bowled me over like I was nothing more than driftwood in its path. The world went dark, the game flashed its verdict, and my save was gone. Just like that.

Epilogue: Lessons from the Hog

So ends my Stranded Deep run — three days according to the game, four by my own count. I learned a lot: coconuts are useless without a knife, rafts are stubborn, and hogs are nature’s way of telling you to keep your distance. It was a short ride, but fun. Next time, maybe I’ll survive long enough to cook that bacon instead of becoming it.

Continue the Journey

Day 1 |
Day 3 |
Final Day (You Are Here)

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The Great Blog Refresh – Survivor Incognito Gets a Full Update

Site Update: The Big Refresh

It’s cleanup time at Survivor Incognito. Every single post and page is getting updated—tightened navigation, consistent formatting, proper “previous/next” links, and some extra polish where needed.

The good news? SnowRunner, Subnautica, The Cold Chronicles, Day One Diaries, and Stranded Deep are already fully refreshed. Those series now have smooth navigation, consistent style, and zero dead-end links.

The rest are next in line. If you stumble into a post mid-update and the links feel a bit… chaotic, just know it’s all part of the process. Order will be restored soon.

Why this matters:

  • Better flow for binge-reading entire series.
  • Consistent formatting across the site.
  • Quick access to hub pages and related guides.

So if something suddenly looks cleaner or has a shiny new link, that’s me in the background, doing the digital equivalent of tidying camp before nightfall.

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📢 New Series Launch Alert!

🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary Begins This Week

It’s time to dive in — our newest survival series officially launches this week, and we’re starting exactly where you’d expect: falling out of the sky in a flaming escape pod and into an alien ocean full of fish with bad attitudes.

Day One of Submerged is coming this week, with more entries arriving weekly. Follow along as our unfortunate multiverse survivor tries to make sense of a PDA full of blueprints, a lifepod that’s already on fire, and a world where hydration comes from bleach.

  • 🔧 Expect chaos. Expect crafting. Expect at least one poorly timed encounter with a Reaper Leviathan.
  • 🚀 All played on the Nintendo Switch, because survival is better when it’s portable.

And if you’re just joining us from The Long Dark, Skyrim, or Stranded Deep — welcome! Hope you brought your flippers.

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Choo Choo Charles – Day One Diary: Eugene, Eggs, and Accidental Manslaughter

My Choo Choo Charles day one diary includes a monster-hunting job, a sprinting NPC, and Eugene’s untimely (and possibly avoidable) demise.

The Job Offer That Should’ve Been a Red Flag

I got a call from Eugene. Said he had a job that would help “my museum.” Didn’t specify how, didn’t ask if I had museum experience, just told me it was time to go monster hunting. I should’ve asked questions. Like “what kind of monster?” or “why me?” or “have you ever heard of hazard pay?”

Instead, I said yes.

Meet Charles: Part Locomotive, Part Arachnid, All Nightmare Fuel

I found myself rowing to a misty, ominous island with Eugene casually explaining that we’re up against a half-train, half-gigaspider named Charles.
Cool. Totally normal Saturday

Upon docking, Eugene says there’s a train up the hill we can use — but also notes Charles isn’t the only thing to worry about. Then he bolts. Full sprint. No hesitation. Just gone. I’m used to NPCs dragging their feet, not outpacing me like they’ve got somewhere better to be.

Learning the Ropes (and the Rail Controls)

Eugene points me to a nearby shack with the key to access the train. This is where I learn how to use the map and set waypoints. Handy, and slightly more intuitive than most in-game maps.

I return with the key, unlock the garage, and meet my new metal ride. It’s already equipped with a mounted machine gun and has three levers: forward, reverse, and stop. That’s it. No cup holder. No horn. No emotional support buttons.

First Encounter: Train vs. Terror

I hit the forward lever and the train lurches ahead — straight into my first encounter with Charles.

Cue panic.

The gun works, technically. But it does about as much damage as a water pistol might do to a tank. Charles shrugs it off, mauls Eugene mid-sentence, and disappears into the fog.

I’m left alone. On a moving train. Slightly traumatised.

About That Stopping Distance…

After the chaos, I check the map to reorient myself and decide to go back to Eugene — assuming he’s maybe clinging to life. I reverse the train and, thinking I’ve lined it up just right, I slam the stop lever.

I do not stop in time.

I run over Eugene.

It’s unclear whether Charles killed him or if I finished the job by turning him into railkill. Either way, his final words croak out — something about finding the eggs and stopping Charles once and for all.

No pressure.

If you enjoyed this one, please check out my other Day One Diaries | Survival Game Playthroughs & First-Day Survival Challenges

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🏝️ Day One Diary: Stranded Deep Tutorial – Sunburnt & Sinking (Warm-Up Edition)

A practice run before the chaos begins: I tackle the Stranded Deep tutorial on Nintendo Switch, battle a crab, get lost on a tiny island, and somehow manage to build shelter. The real journey starts next time—with a brand new seed and no hand-holding.

🛩️ “The plane crash was just the beginning. My real enemy? Inventory management.”

I load up Stranded Deep, hoping to ease myself back in with the tutorial. Instead, I’m treated to a cutscene straight out of Final Destination—a plane going down, debris flying, and my character waking up underwater inside the wreck. No time for panic. I dive out, kick my way through the wreckage, and find my trusty inflatable raft.

Then comes my first real survival challenge: how to unequip the oar. After some determined button-mashing and a healthy amount of muttering, I figure it out. I drag the raft ashore—because I’ve seen enough YouTube fails to know that leaving your raft in the water is how you end up stranded before the game even starts.

The tutorial gently nudges me along, but even then, the menus are… a bit of a puzzle. I gather supplies, make a campfire (conveniently close to the raft), and promptly get ambushed by a crab. It’s small, angry, and determined to remind me I’m not in charge here.

Navigation proves tricky. Despite the island being roughly the size of a football pitch, I still manage to get lost several times. I also hoard everything I see, which turns my inventory into a mess of sticks, rocks, and plant bits.

As darkness falls, I realize I need to craft shelter. Fibrous leaves are required, but I’ve used most of them, and a torch sounds great—except I have no idea where to get cloth. I spend several minutes wandering aimlessly in the dark, wondering if this is how it ends. Eventually, I find what I need, cobble together a basic shelter, and finally—finally—save the game.

🔚 End of Day Summary:

Survived tutorial ✔️

Beat up by a crab ✔️

Got lost on a tiny island ✔️ – Yes, that actually happened

Built shelter and saved ✔️

Confidence level for real run: …debatable

🧭 What’s Next?

Next time, the real run begins. New seed, no hand-holding, and full permadeath rules. I have no idea what’s waiting for me, but if it’s another crab, we are going to have words.

If you enjoyed this one, please check out my other day one diaries here

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