Tag: Survival Diary

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

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Stranded: A Minecraft Survival Diary – Log 1: Sheep, Skeletons, and a 3×3 Start

Stranded – Log 1: Sheep, Skeletons, and a 3×3 Start

Game: Minecraft
Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Difficulty: Hard

I spawn in a wooded area, right next to sheep. That immediately solves one very important problem.

A bed.

All I need is three pieces of wool of the same colour. Minecraft is very picky about that.

I punch a tree, grab enough wood to get started, and craft a table so I can make a wooden axe and pickaxe. When I turn back, the sheep have vanished.

Of course they have.

It takes longer than I’d like, but eventually I track down three sheep of the same colour. Three sheep later, I have enough wool for a bed.

That alone changes everything. Being able to skip nights means I don’t have to deal with monsters until I decide I’m ready.

Video Log

Full no-commentary gameplay for this log is available below.

Big Ideas, Bad Timing

With the bed sorted, my thoughts immediately jump ahead.

I want a base of operations. Somewhere I can sleep, store things, and eventually start a farm. From there, I can mine properly instead of poking holes in the ground and hoping for the best.

I wander into a nearby cave. Not deep — maybe ten or twenty blocks.

I see a skeleton.

The skeleton sees me.

An arrow hits me almost immediately, followed by another. Hard difficulty is not interested in easing me in.

I’m not equipped for this, and I’m not throwing the run away on day one.

I run.

Ignoring the Lesson

A little later, I try again.

This time, it’s because I spot coal. Torches would be useful, and optimism briefly wins out over common sense.

The skeleton is still there. It now has a creeper for company.

At this point, even I take the hint.

I cut my losses and leave the cave alone.

Some problems are better solved later.

Surface Coal and a Night’s Rest

It’s not all bad.

Across the water, I spot coal exposed on the surface. A decent amount of it, too.

No skeletons. No creepers. No arrows flying out of the dark.

It’s getting late, so I carve out a small alcove, place my bed, and sleep.

Day one ends without disaster, which feels like an achievement in itself.

Day Two: Follow the Water

I wake up with no real plan.

Rather than force one, I decide to see where the water leads.

I start swimming, then remember boats exist and immediately regret not thinking of that sooner.

I make a boat and quickly realise it’s going to take some practice to steer properly.

Still, it does the job.

After a bit of travel, I find a flat area right next to the water. Trees nearby. Sand close enough to grab.

This feels like somewhere I could actually stay.

A House, Barely

I gather wood, grass, and some sand. I want windows eventually, even if they don’t happen today.

I also start nudging the water around slightly, laying the groundwork for a future wheat farm.

For now, though, the priority is simple.

I build a small 3×3 structure out of wooden planks. No windows. No decoration.

But it has a door.

That alone means I can come and go without breaking blocks every time, which already feels like progress.

It’s not much, but it’s mine.

Ending the Day

During my wandering, I’ve picked up some meat and a bit of copper ore.

I craft a furnace, cook the meat, and leave the copper smelting while I sleep.

I’ve no idea what day three will bring.

But I have a bed, a door, food sorted, and a place I can stand still without worrying.

On Hard difficulty, that’s more than enough for now.

Continue the Journey

Next entry:
Log 2 — Bridges, Wheat, and Future Problems

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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

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The Long Dark – Stalker Instinct Log #4: Sticks, Stone Throws, and a Stupid Food Choice

Mode: Stalker
Region: Mystery Lake
Mood: Cautiously confident, briefly poisoned

I decided to explore more of Mystery Lake. I knew there was a pond nearby, so I headed out to see what opportunities it might offer.

The snare I’d set earlier came up empty. No rabbit. That thing needs relocating.

Pond Plans and Wolf Reality Checks

On the way, I spotted a wolf in the distance. It didn’t see me. I didn’t test my luck.

Even with a bow, I don’t rate my chances yet. My aim needs work, and Stalker wolves don’t forgive hesitation.

At the pond, I found the hunter’s blind. Useful later. Right now, it was overlooking absolutely nothing. No animals. Not even a teasing rabbit.

With daylight to spare, I pushed on toward a nearby cabin.

The Cabin and the Crows

The cabin had slim pickings. Nothing worth staying for.

Outside, I heard crows. That sound still means one thing.

A deer carcass. Ravaged, but edible. I harvested what I could — barely half a kilo of meat — and started a fire. It wasn’t much, but it was calories.

Fire-starting is still slow. I’m counting the days until that skill improves.

Rabbit Hunting: Sticks Strike Back

Rabbits were nearby, so I tried my luck.

I tested an arrow on one. Missed. Fair enough. I stopped there — no sense wasting arrows until I have fire-hardened ones for practice.

Back to stones.

After a few throws, I stunned a rabbit. Walked up confidently. Pressed the button.

I picked up a stick.

The rabbit had landed next to it and bolted while I stood there holding firewood like an idiot.

Second attempt: success. No stick betrayal.

I even got the second rabbit I’d spotted earlier. Clean, no mistakes this time.

Tea, Arrows, and False Confidence

Back at the fire, I prepped reishi mushrooms and made tea. Sensible. Calm. Survival-approved.

Then the game decided to mock me by handing me another arrow and another bow.

Message received. I’ll practice — later.

Before the fire died, I used charcoal to map the area. Useful result: a marked zone where rabbits spawn frequently. Future snare location sorted.

The Fat Mistake

Back at the cabin, I made a bad call.

I ate animal fat.

I knew better. It was heavy. It was in my inventory. I wanted the calories.

Instant food poisoning.

Thankfully, I still had reishi tea. I drank it and collapsed into bed to recover.

That would have cost me one of my three chances.

No wolf. No blizzard. Just a lazy decision.

Log 4 Takeaway

  • Snares need good placement, not optimism
  • Bow ownership does not equal bow skill
  • Rabbits will absolutely humiliate you
  • Sticks are the true apex predator
  • Food poisoning is still one of the fastest ways to burn a chance

Stalker doesn’t need dramatic moments to punish you. It just waits.

YouTube Video

Continue the journey:
Stalker Instinct – Log 3 |
Stalker Instinct – Log 5

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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.

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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.

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Video Log

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

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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.

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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.

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Video Log

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

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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.

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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 #2 – Day 1

Unprepared – Log 2: Day 1 (Hushed River Valley)

Difficulty: Interloper

Run Time: 15 hours

Series:

Unprepared – An Interloper Survival Diary

“Same area. Same spawn. Slightly more knowledge. Same outcome.”

The game decided to keep things familiar.
Exact same area. Exact same spawn.
Normally that would feel cruel, but this time I wasn’t completely blind.

I’d spent time looking at maps for every possible Interloper spawn.
This was one of the few I was actually hoping for.
Not because it’s forgiving — it isn’t — but because I knew where I wanted to go first.

The Signal Fire Plan

The goal was simple: reach the mysterious signal fire.
It could spawn in one of two locations.
I picked one and committed.

Naturally, a scrub bush blocked the route.

I didn’t see another way around, so I fell back on a familiar Interloper technique:
mountain goating.
It took a few attempts, but eventually I made it over.

The reward felt significant:

  • Food
  • Shelter
  • A Mackinaw jacket

For a brief moment, it felt like progress.

The Exit Problem

The problem wasn’t getting there.
The problem was getting back.

I didn’t want to goat straight down the cliff.
I tried to goat back over the scrub bush.
That wasn’t an option either.

With daylight fading, I decided to wait it out and reassess in the morning.
That decision immediately started going wrong.

The shelter kept me warm — briefly.
Then the temperature dropped.
Then the sky lit up with an aurora.

Eventually, I accepted reality and did the thing I didn’t want to do:
I mountain goated down the cliff.

I don’t know how I survived the descent.
I just know that I did.

The Rope I Couldn’t Climb

My next destination required a rope climb.
I found the rope.
I walked up to it.
And then the game reminded me I had a sprained wrist.

You can’t climb ropes with a sprain.

With limited options, I tore up a piece of clothing,
crafted a bandage, healed the wrist, and climbed anyway.

I fully expected to fall.
Somehow, I didn’t.

Frostbite, Twice

By this point my condition was dropping fast.
I was exhausted.
I had no way to start a fire.
I needed water.

What I got instead was frostbite.

Then I got it again.

There was no recovery path left.
Interloper had finished explaining the lesson.

The End of the Run

Rather than let the cold take me slowly,
I found the nearest cliff and walked off it.

Not graceful.
But deliberate.

Survived: 15 hours
Result: More information for next time

Field Footage

This footage covers the run from spawn to exit,
including the signal fire gamble and the decisions that followed.

Day 1 Takeaways

  • Knowing the map helps, but it doesn’t guarantee exits.
  • Mountain goating solves problems and creates new ones.
  • Sprains can completely block progress.
  • Auroras turn waiting into a liability.
  • Frostbite twice is the game being very clear.

I didn’t survive the day.
But I survived long enough to learn something useful.

Continue the journey:
Unprepared – Log 1 |
Unprepared – Log 3

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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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The Long Dark – Stalker Instinct Log #1: Mystery Lake Was the Sensible Choice

Difficulty: Stalker
Optional Features: Cougar enabled, Scurvy enabled, Trader enabled

Before I even began, I had three choices to make: do I want the Cougar, Scurvy, and Trader to be active?

Because I apparently enjoy making poor decisions, the answer was yes to all three.

For my first proper attempt at Stalker, I chose Mystery Lake for one simple reason: I wanted to be eased in. If the game was going to punish me, I wanted it to do so gradually.

Spawn Point: Cave Near the Fishing Huts

I started my journey in a cave near the edge of the fishing huts. One hut was close enough to feel safe, so I checked that first. The others were further out across the ice, and I could already see wolves roaming.

Not ideal. Not surprising. Very on-brand for Stalker.

Rather than pushing my luck early, I headed straight for the Camp Office. If things went wrong, at least I’d be indoors when it happened.

For context — and future mistakes —

Mystery Lake maps and region notes.

Camp Office Loot and a Small Win

The Camp Office treated me better than expected. I found:

  • A lantern
  • A skillet

That was enough to get something going. I lit a fire, warmed up, and decided to head back out with torches. The plan was simple: torches to deter wolves, quick trips to the huts, no unnecessary risks.

Fishing Huts: Where the Game Lied to Me

In my head, wolves were going to be circling me the entire time. I expected growling, posturing, and at least one moment of panic on the ice.

None of that happened.

Not a single wolf came near me as I moved from hut to hut. I could see them in the distance, but they kept their space. I did spot a bear, which immediately raised my stress levels, but even that had its back turned and showed no interest.

I looted what I could, kept the torches lit, and tried not to trust the calm.

Food Reality Check

After clearing the huts, I returned to the Camp Office. Food was becoming an issue, but I knew there were potatoes inside. It was Day 1, and I wasn’t going to starve overnight.

Another look around paid off when I found a cooking pot. For a brief moment, I imagined porridge and proper meals.

That optimism didn’t last.

My cooking skill was too low to do anything interesting. No porridge. No comfort food. Just the basics.

Dinner ended up being:

  • Boiled water
  • A couple of potatoes
  • Some crackers

Not exciting, but it kept me alive, which is the only metric that matters in Stalker.

End of Day 1

I ended the first day inside the Camp Office, hydrated, minimally fed, and strangely untouched.

The wolves were present but passive. The bear made an appearance and then left. Nothing attacked me. Nothing forced a bad decision.

That kind of restraint never lasts.

For Day 2, I’m undecided:

  • Head to Trapper’s Cabin
  • Or go somewhere else entirely

Either way, this calm feels temporary.

Video

Day 1 Notes

  • Mystery Lake is still the safest place to learn Stalker.
  • Torches work, even when you don’t end up needing them.
  • A bear ignoring you is luck, not safety.
  • Cooking pots are exciting until skill levels intervene.
  • Potatoes and crackers count as a meal.
Continue the journey:
Log #1 (You Are Here) | Log #2
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