Tag: Nintendo Switch

Survivor’s Log: If We Don’t Own Our Games, What Exactly Are We Buying?

There are plenty of reasons I buy games digitally.

My Steam Deck alone should probably make it obvious that I am not standing on a hill waving a physical game case around and demanding that everyone return to 1998. The same goes for my Switch. I own a mixture of physical and digital games for it, and if anything, the digital side probably outweighs the physical.

Digital distribution is convenient. My library travels with me, I can install something without hunting for a disc, and sales have allowed me to pick up games I probably would never have bought otherwise.

Digital games are not the problem.

The problem begins when digital becomes the only option while the amount of control we have over the things we pay for continues to shrink.

Sony has now announced that physical disc production for new games releasing on PlayStation consoles will end in January 2028. Games already released on disc, or released before that cutoff, are unaffected. After that point, new PlayStation releases will be digital-only. Sony says the change reflects the broader shift in consumer preference towards digital media. PlayStation’s announcement can be read here.

I can understand the business logic.

That does not mean I have to like where it leads.

A Very Different PlayStation

There is something particularly strange about this coming from Sony.

Back in 2013, Microsoft managed to turn the Xbox One reveal into a lesson in how quickly you can annoy your own customers. Its original plans surrounding used games, online authentication and sharing created enough backlash that Sony had an extremely easy target.

PlayStation responded with one of the simplest demonstrations in gaming history.

How do you share a PlayStation 4 game?

You hand somebody the disc.

Sony’s own PS4 FAQ was equally clear. A PS4 disc could be traded in, sold to another person, lent to a friend or kept. Sony also said disc-based used games would not require activation steps or additional usage fees. The original PlayStation 4 FAQ is still available here.

It was an effective message because everyone understood it immediately.

You had the game.

You could hand it to somebody else.

Thirteen years later, PlayStation is heading towards a future where that option disappears for new releases.

The irony is difficult to ignore.

Apparently We Never Owned Them Anyway

The timing becomes even more awkward when combined with Sony’s current position on digital purchases.

PlayStation users have recently been reminded that digital software is licensed rather than sold. At almost the same time, Sony has been defending that distinction in court.

A proposed class action in California argues that the PlayStation Store’s use of terms such as “buy” and “purchase” does not make it sufficiently clear that customers receive a licence rather than ownership of the digital game. Sony has responded that its terms already make the distinction clear and that it is not plausible for reasonable customers to believe they are obtaining ownership of a digital game in the same way they would own a physical copy. Tom’s Hardware has a useful breakdown of the filing here.

Legally, the idea that software is licensed rather than sold is nothing new.

What bothers me is what happens when you combine the two positions.

Physical games are being phased out.

Digital games are licences.

And customers are apparently expected to accept that the thing replacing physical ownership gives them less control over what they paid for.

That leaves me with a fairly simple question.

If physical ownership is disappearing, why shouldn’t digital customers be given more control rather than less?

Steam Isn’t Quite the Answer Either

This is also where I have to be fair to Sony.

Steam isn’t some perfect digital ownership paradise.

Valve’s own Steam Subscriber Agreement says that Steam content and services are licensed, not sold, and that the licence does not give the user title or ownership of that content. Some games may also require the Steam client or an internet connection depending on the title and its licence terms. Valve’s Steam Subscriber Agreement is available here.

So I can’t point at Steam and say, “There. Valve solved digital ownership.”

They haven’t.

What Steam has done extremely well is make digital distribution convenient enough that most of the time I don’t particularly think about that distinction.

I buy a game. It sits in my library. I install it on my Steam Deck. I play it.

For everyday use, that works.

But convenience and ownership are still two different things.

And that’s where GOG becomes much more interesting.

GOG Shows That Digital Doesn’t Have To Mean Less Control

GOG is also a digital storefront.

There are no boxes being delivered to my house when I buy something there.

The difference is what I can do afterwards.

GOG requires games released on its platform to be DRM-free. Its Galaxy client is optional, and GOG provides offline installers that can be downloaded independently of the client. Its own developer documentation says games should remain playable regardless of Galaxy authentication, whether Galaxy is installed, or whether an internet connection is available. GOG explains its DRM-free requirements here, and its offline installer system here.

I can download an installer.

I can put it on an external drive.

I can make another backup.

If I want, I can store that copy somewhere completely separate from GOG.

That doesn’t magically erase copyright law or mean I suddenly own the intellectual property.

Obviously I don’t.

What it does mean is that my ability to reinstall that game does not have to depend entirely on whether the storefront still exists ten or twenty years from now.

That is a meaningful difference.

Microsoft Is Already Trying Another Approach

Microsoft has now added another interesting possibility to the conversation.

In August 2026, Xbox announced a new disc-to-digital feature for supported Xbox One and Xbox Series X games. Xbox Insiders began testing it on 31 August.

The system allows a player to insert a supported physical game into a compatible Xbox console and claim a digital entitlement. Microsoft says most Xbox One and Xbox Series X disc-based games support the feature, with eligibility depending on technical and licensing factors. Xbox’s announcement is available here.

That entitlement can then provide some of the advantages normally associated with owning a digital version, including access through Xbox Play Anywhere or Xbox Cloud Gaming where those features are supported.

There is, however, an important limitation.

This is not Microsoft permanently converting a physical game into an independent digital copy.

Microsoft’s own usage rules describe it as a limited-access digital licence. The entitlement remains conditional on continued possession of the qualifying disc. Microsoft can require the disc to be revalidated, and if the player no longer possesses it, access to the associated digital licence can be suspended or revoked. The digital licence also cannot be transferred separately from the physical disc. Microsoft’s Digital Goods Usage Rules explain those conditions here.

That distinction matters.

This is not the same solution GOG offers, and it does not solve every preservation problem.

But the underlying idea is still interesting.

You bought this physical game. We can recognise that purchase digitally too.

Rather than treating physical and digital libraries as completely separate worlds, Microsoft is at least building a bridge between them.

Steam shows how convenient a digital ecosystem can become.

GOG shows that digital distribution can coexist with DRM-free offline copies.

Microsoft is now showing that a physical purchase can be recognised inside a digital ecosystem too.

None of those systems is perfect.

But taken together, they make it much harder to argue that less consumer control is simply an unavoidable consequence of going digital.

Preservation Isn’t Just About Old Games

This is where the discussion stops being purely about which shop has the nicer refund policy.

Games disappear.

Servers close.

Licences expire.

Stores shut down.

Hardware eventually fails.

Sometimes a game becomes difficult or impossible to obtain legally despite thousands or millions of copies once being sold.

Physical media was never indestructible, but a functioning disc and compatible hardware gave you something important: a copy that did not need permission from a remote storefront every time you wanted to revisit it.

DRM-free digital files can provide something similar.

They can be copied.

They can be archived.

They can survive the storefront that originally sold them.

That matters to me because I’ve recently found myself returning to older games, and it’s a reminder of how important it is that those games remain accessible years after their original release.

I’ve spent plenty of time revisiting games from systems that disappeared from shop shelves decades ago. The idea that today’s games could become tomorrow’s preservation problem because customers were never allowed to retain useful copies of what they bought seems completely avoidable.

The technology is not the obstacle.

The policy is.

I’m Not Asking For The Disc To Survive Forever

Physical media probably was always going to decline.

Downloads are convenient. Publishers don’t have to manufacture discs, ship them around the world and hope retailers sell them.

I understand why the industry is moving this way.

And given how many digital games I own, it would be slightly ridiculous for me to pretend I’m opposed to it.

I’m not.

What I don’t accept is the idea that moving to digital inherently means customers must surrender control.

If you’re going to remove the physical copy, give me something meaningful in its place.

Maybe that’s a DRM-free installer like GOG.

Maybe it’s a system that recognises an existing physical purchase and gives it useful digital benefits, like Microsoft is now testing.

Maybe somebody comes up with an even better solution.

I don’t particularly care which approach ultimately wins.

What I care about is that the answer isn’t simply:

Physical media is disappearing, and you’ll have less control over what replaces it.

Give me offline installers.

Let me create backups.

Let me keep those backups without requiring authentication from a service that might not exist thirty years from now.

You can still have cloud saves.

You can still have automatic updates.

You can still have achievements, multiplayer services, storefronts and all the other conveniences modern platforms provide.

Digital distribution does not require digital dependence.

What Exactly Am I Paying For?

Maybe that’s the part of this whole situation I find most uncomfortable.

Publishers are increasingly comfortable using the language of purchasing when they want my money, then the language of licensing when questions of ownership arise.

The button says Buy.

The receipt looks like a purchase.

The money certainly leaves my bank account like a purchase.

But apparently expecting lasting control over the thing on the other side of that transaction is where things become unreasonable.

I’m not convinced.

Sony once demonstrated the benefits of physical ownership by handing a PlayStation game from one person to another.

It was funny because there was nothing complicated about it.

You bought something.

You possessed it.

You decided what happened to your copy next.

If that future really is disappearing, then I don’t think the answer should be to shrug and accept that we now control less.

Digital can be better than that.

We already know it can.

The industry just has to decide whether giving customers that control is something it actually wants to do.

For me, that’s the distinction.

Digital distribution is fine.

Digital convenience is great.

But if physical games are going away, I want the replacement to give players more control over the games they’ve paid for, not less.

Because one day the servers will go quiet.

And when they do, I’d quite like the games to survive them.

3

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 11: Threw Arrows Cold, One Step Forward

Unprepared Log 11: Three Arrows Cold, One Step Forward

Difficulty: Interloper
Region: Mystery Lake
Survivor: Will

I woke up at dawn and the game immediately informed me it hated me.

The day starts with the kind of cold you can measure in regret: three arrows.
The wind is also doing its best to make sure I feel personally targeted.

My hunger bar still has a bit left in it, so I spend that “free” time researching for an hour.
I head outside, confirm it’s still miserable, then go back in and research again.

I can’t stay in the lookout all day. I want to, but even I know that would make for a thrilling entry titled:
“Man Stares at Wall, Becomes Slightly More Educated.”

Back Down the Path

I decide to move while I still have daylight and nerve.
The plan is simple: head toward Camp Office, then try to find the cave I know exists nearby.

The ptarmigans are gone.
Either they moved on, or they saw me coming and chose life.

I skip any attempt at the plane today.
It’s too cold, and I’d rather reach Camp Office first so I can warm up without doing the Interloper shuffle in torn clothing.

The Derailment Detour Pays Off

On the way, I finally check the derailment I wanted to look at last time.
For once, curiosity actually rewards me: I find a set of simple tools.

I take them immediately.
If Interloper wants me to craft my way out of misery, I’m at least going to do it with proper equipment.

Camp Office: Warmth, Pots, and My “Great” Eyesight

I reach Camp Office and step inside like I’ve just arrived at a five-star resort.
Warmth. Shelter. A door I can close in the wind’s face.

While I’m getting my temperature back out of the red, I notice something I somehow missed on my last visit:
a cooking pot.
My observation skills remain second to none.

I carry it upstairs and place it beside my cooking skillet on the two-hob stove.
It’s not a full kitchen, but it’s dangerously close to comfort.

The Cave I Definitely Know Exists

Now for the cave.
I know where it is. I’ve been there before.
I’ve even used the route I wanted to use.

And yet, somehow, I cannot find it.
I push around in the cold until Interloper starts billing me in injuries.
First I sprain an ankle, then my wrist, and eventually I accept the truth:
I’m not exploring right now, I’m just donating condition to the weather.

I regroup and head back to Camp Office.
During the scramble, I spot a rope leading up to the cave area I was trying to reach.
So that’s a thing.
A helpful thing.
A “why didn’t I see that sooner” thing.

Furniture Crime and Firewood Math

Back inside, I decide to dismantle a chair for firewood.
The game says it takes two hours.
Fine.

The result: four reclaimed wood.
Which I’m calling nonsense on.
I’ve seen chairs with less structure than that.

I go out one more time and grab extra firewood, then return to Camp Office for the night.
Today’s theme is “warmth first, ambitions second.”

Cooking, Water, and the First Aurora

With the fire going, I use the cooking pot to make as much water as it’ll allow.
I also cook what I can to keep my cooking skill climbing.
Interloper doesn’t reward laziness, and I’m trying to get ahead of food poisoning roulette.

While I’m working, I get my first aurora of the run.
I’m not stupid enough to go outside and “see what happens.”
I stay put and read the message on the computer instead.
Safe thrills only.

Improvised Hatchet: The Scrap Metal Problem

Before I sleep, I check what I need for an improvised hatchet,
because I’m getting fed up with the game reminding me I don’t have one.

The answer is simple and annoying:
five scrap metal.

I do have some scrap metal, but I was saving it for arrowheads.
Now it’s a choice between “future hunting” and “stop bleeding time to basic tasks.”

It also feels like the game is nudging me toward Broken Railroad and the forge there.
I don’t want to go.
But if I can’t scrounge more scrap in Mystery Lake, I might have to.
Interloper loves forcing a road trip at the worst time.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 10 |
Unprepared Log 12

1

Survivor’s Log: Subnautica Site Update

I’ve finally gotten round to a couple of long-overdue Subnautica jobs — the kind that make the site easier to use and stop everything from drifting into chaos.

First, there’s now a proper Subnautica Hub. One place to collect everything Subnautica-related — logs, guides, maps, and future posts — without needing to hunt through tags or old links.

Subnautica Hub:

Subnautica Hub


Second, I’ve built a Subnautica Crafting Reference page. This isn’t a lore dump or a wiki replacement — it’s a practical, at-a-glance list of what you need to craft things, grouped by crafting device and built to be useful while you’re actually playing.

Subnautica Crafting Reference:

Subnautica Crafting Reference Guide


Both pages exist for the same reason: less friction, less tab-hopping, and more time actually surviving underwater.

More Subnautica updates soon — now that the foundations are finally in place.

0

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 10: Quiet Before the Teeth

Unprepared Log 10: Quiet Before the Teeth

Difficulty: Interloper
Region: Mystery Lake
Survivor: Will

Thankfully the recording survived. The wolves did too. Probably.

Thankfully the recording for this and the next log didn’t get corrupted, so I can actually prove I made it through the day.
With a heavy hammer sitting safely in Trapper’s Homestead, that’s one major goal off the list.

Next goal: find a firestriker or a magnifying glass.
I’m tired of living match-to-match like some kind of frozen Victorian chimney sweep.

Charcoal, Caches, and the Bow Clock Ticking

A quick use of charcoal showed I was close to a memento cache.
I had no clue where it actually was, so I did what I always do when I’m unsure: wander deeper into the region and hope it becomes Future Me’s problem.

The wandering at least had value. I found a bunch of birch saplings and hauled them back toward Trapper’s for curing.
The bow phase is coming whether I’m ready or not, and I’d rather not arrive there with the survival equivalent of empty pockets and false confidence.

Hunter’s Blind: A Win With a Catch

I checked the nearby hunter’s blind and finally got a win: a firestriker.
The condition was under 50%, which is not what you want to see on Interloper, but it still counts as “fire insurance.”

Still no magnifying glass, though. Of course.
The game will happily give me the tool I can break, but not the one that turns sunlight into free survival.

Accidental Navigation and the Lookout Plan

Then I did something stupid: I headed off without a path in mind.
No plan, no route, just vibes and cold air.

But once I spotted the Forestry Lookout, my brain finally clicked into place.
I’ve been there on other Mystery Lake visits, so at least this was a stupid decision with a familiar destination.

On the way, I spotted ptarmigans.
My rock-throwing aim remains consistently impressive in the worst way: I missed by miles, spooked them, and watched them fly off like they’d just attended my personal comedy show.

Forestry Lookout: Warmth, Mapping, and a Skillet

The lookout gave me a cooking skillet, which immediately made it feel like I’d walked into a luxury apartment.
It was also warm inside, but I could still use charcoal.

That’s the sweet spot: shelter, warmth, and the ability to map.
I scouted, updated the area, and let myself pretend I was in control for a few minutes.

The Crashed Plane: A Great Idea That Hurt Immediately

From the lookout, I spotted a crashed plane.
And I immediately had that survival-gremlin thought: “There’s definitely something useful in there.”

Only problem: I had absolutely no clue how I was meant to reach it.
I tried a few different approaches, each one worse than the last.

I ended up in pain and tearing my clothes, which is exactly the kind of price Interloper charges for curiosity.
With night coming in, I accepted reality and retreated back to the lookout before I turned a bad climb into a body recovery mission.

Night Prep and the Suspicious Lack of Teeth

Back at the lookout, I prepped like a responsible adult survivor: cooked what I could, repaired what I could, and tried to patch up the damage caused by my brief aviation obsession.

And then it hit me.
I don’t think I saw a single predator today.

Which means they’re either:

  • all stuck behind a rock somewhere, or
  • having a meeting to decide who gets to be the first one to ruin my week.

I’m betting on the meeting.
Interloper loves a coordinated effort.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 9 |
Unprepared Log 11

1

Survivor’s Log: What’s in the Pipeline

Survivor’s Log: What’s in the Pipeline

This isn’t an announcement post and it isn’t a schedule. It’s a quick check-in on what’s been drafted, scoped, and quietly prepared in the background.

Over the past few weeks I’ve been tightening rules, reducing sprawl, and making sure each series has a reason to exist beyond “I felt like playing it”.

As a result, there are three series sitting in the pipeline.

Orbis

Orbis is a new survival diary set in Hytale.

The game is currently in early access and exists as an ever-updating world, so the goal is deliberately simple: survive for as long as possible.

  • Solo only
  • One life
  • No fixed end goal
  • Survival measured by time, not progress

There’s no checklist and no finish line. When death happens, the diary ends.

One Against the Horde

One Against the Horde is a finite series built around Zombie Army Trilogy.

Each entry covers a single map played solo, on Marksman difficulty, with no collectibles and no padding.

  • One map per entry
  • Two failures ends the run
  • No grinding, no clean-up runs

If the horde wins twice, that’s the end of the diary.

Sunburnt & Sinking (Return)

Sunburnt & Sinking will be returning in Stranded Deep.

This time the run uses a simple strike system.

  • Three strikes total
  • Each death costs one strike
  • Lose all three and the run ends

The goal remains unchanged: defeat the three bosses and escape. Deaths are part of the story, not something to be edited out.

Where This Fits

February is already mapped out with scheduled posts and videos, which gives me the space to keep building quietly rather than rushing anything out.

These three series aren’t replacing what’s currently running. They’re sitting alongside it, ready to move when there’s room.

For now, this is about direction rather than output. The work is done early so the writing can happen when there’s something worth writing.

0

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

2

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


Unprepared – Log 1: Day 1 (Hushed River Valley)

Difficulty: Interloper

Run Time: 4 hours

Series:

Unprepared – An Interloper Survival Diary

“Pro Interloper players call this a ‘great spawn’. I lasted four hours.”

I spawn in Hushed River Valley, right next to a waterfall, and immediately get the sense that this region exists
to test whether you actually deserve to keep playing.

I’ve been here before. I know there’s a moose satchel on this map.
I also know that familiarity doesn’t equal preparedness, and Interloper is very keen to prove that point.

Waterfall Spawn & Immediate Delusion

Part of me is convinced there’s a survival bow nearby. Another part of me is sure I can get past a scrub bush I spotted.
Neither belief survives contact with reality.

I stare at the scrub bush for longer than I care to admit, have no idea how to pass it,
and eventually give up. Confidence evaporates quickly out here.

Knowledge That Helps Nobody

I know Mountain Town is nearby. I know there’s a man-made snow shelter somewhere in this region.
None of this helps when you’re cold, under-equipped, and still arguing with terrain.

Ptarmigans & The Great Rock Tragedy

I come across some ptarmigans and decide to hunt.

  • Stun one
  • Eventually start a fire
  • Cook something warm

I throw my rock and miss by an impressive margin.
Worse, I’ve now lost my only stone.

Hunting attempt: failed.
Inventory: actively worse.

The Torch Plan (That Never Happens)

I collect sticks with purpose. I have a plan:

  • Start a fire
  • Pull torches
  • Use fire to keep wolves honest

The problem is simple.

I have no way to start a fire. No matches. No striker.
I forgot the key Interloper detail where you spawn with absolutely nothing.

Smoke, Wolves, and Accidental Skill

I spot smoke drifting from the direction of the moose satchel location.
It feels less like a hint and more like mockery.

A wolf appears. I panic. I improvise. I end up mountain goating away from it.
Somehow, it works.

I survive that encounter, which honestly feels like a mistake the game will correct later.

Field Footage

This footage shows the full run, ending exactly where it ended for me.
First ever Interloper attempt. No practice runs. No warm-up.

The log ends with confirmation of what this was:
my first attempt on Interloper, lasting four hours in Hushed River Valley.

Darkness, Blizzard, Wolf

Night rolls in. A blizzard follows.
I make one last push to find shelter or an exit.

I don’t find either.

A wolf does.

Four hours in, the run ends.

Day 1 Takeaways

  • Four hours in Hushed River Valley is not nothing.
  • One rock is not a plan.
  • A fire plan without ignition is fiction.
  • Smoke in the distance can feel personal.
  • Mountain goating worked once. I will abuse that lesson.

I didn’t survive the day.
But I survived long enough to understand the problem.

Next attempt, I come in less blind.

Continue the journey:

Unprepared – Series Hub
 |
Unprepared – Log 2

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Super Mario 64 Randomizer – Log 7: Bowser in the Fire Sea Was Not the Plan

Super Mario 64 Randomizer Log 7: Bowser in the Fire Sea Was Not the Plan

Mode: Randomizer
Lives Remaining: 17
Stars Collected: 38
Stars Remaining: 82

With Tick Tock Clock finally behind me, I head back downstairs to see what’s lurking behind the entrance that should lead to Hazy Maze Cave. The answer, apparently, is Bowser in the Fire Sea.

To make matters worse, a quick look around confirms the red coins are floating over lava. That problem can wait.

Bowser First, Questions Later

After a few failed attempts getting my bearings, I respawn right next to the Bowser fight entrance. I briefly consider going for the red coins first, then decide against it. Survival comes first.

This somehow turns into the only time I’ve ever failed this fight. I misjudge my position, step where I shouldn’t, and Mario drops straight into the lava.

The second attempt goes as expected. Bowser goes down, the key is mine, and we all agree not to talk about the first try.

The Red Coins Problem

With upstairs now unlocked, I return to the Fire Sea red coins. Several attempts later, it’s clear this set is going to be a nuisance. Precision jumps over lava with a randomizer twist are not something to rush.

I leave them for another session — and another video.

Video

Run Status

  • Lives Remaining: 17
  • Stars Collected: 38
  • Stars Remaining: 82
  • Next Goal: Explore upstairs and see what the randomizer has moved.

Continue the Randomizer

Randomizer Hub |
Log 6: Time Stops for No Mario |
Log 7 |
Log 8

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Super Mario 64 Randomizer – Log 2: Chuckya’s Revenge

Platform: Steam Deck
Settings: Vanilla Mario & Music — chaos left entirely intact.

“Gravity and Chuckya joined forces today. I call it a hate crime.”

Fresh off the high of conquering Bowser and the Secret Slide, I decided to revisit Shifting Sand Land. One more star there couldn’t hurt, right? A quick trip across some quicksand later, I added another to the tally and figured it was time to see what lay below the castle.

That’s when I wandered into the Boo garden — home to ghostly giggles, hidden secrets, and one particularly smug Boo concealing a course entrance. I gave chase, stomped the spook, and jumped straight into the portal. The result? Tall, Tall Mountain. Great name. Terrible welcome.

Watch Log 2:

Thrown Off the Deep End

My very first spawn placed me in arm’s reach of a Chuckya. Before I could even process what I was looking at, the purple menace grabbed me and threw me off the mountain. Ten seconds in, one life down, ego shattered. I went back in for a rematch because apparently I enjoy suffering.

Round two went much better. I methodically climbed the slopes, dodged monkey theft, narrowly avoided falling logs, and picked up six of the seven available stars. Not bad for a course that literally tried to throw me away on entry.

The lone survivor is the 100 Coin Star, which I’ll tackle next time—assuming I can convince myself that collecting loose change while balancing on ledges is “fun.”

Log 2 Summary

  • Stars Collected: 13
  • Stars Remaining: 107
  • Lives: 8

After the sandstorms and the mountain’s murderous intent, I’m learning that no amount of preparation can outmatch the randomizer’s sense of humour. Still, progress is progress—and at least this time I didn’t get flung into the void twice in a row.

Lessons from Log 2

  • Chuckya exists solely to ruin your day.
  • Always expect ledges to betray you.
  • Boos are pranksters, not friends.
  • Six stars and a grudge is still a win.
Continue the journey:
Log 1 |
Log 2 (You Are Here) |
Log 3
1

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