Customloper Diaries Day Five: Moose-terious Happenings

Customloper Diaries – Day 5: Moose Standoff, Bullet Disappointment, and Frostbite Gordon Ramsay

Weather: Overcast → blizzard remnants → cold, tense calm
Loot Highlights: 32 revolver bullets (without the revolver), coffee, stew ingredients
Mood: Caffeine-fueled paranoia

◀ Missed Day 4? Read it here |
What is Customloper?

Moose-terious Happenings and Bullet Mockery

I wake up cold, hypothermic, and shivering in a shelter that feels like it’s holding back winter by sheer stubbornness. Outside, the air is still heavy with yesterday’s storm. I light a torch—not for light, but for morale—and step outside to grab sticks for a fire.

That’s when I hear it. A low, deliberate snort. Snow crunching under something big. My brain takes about two seconds to put it together: the Moose is still here. Still patrolling. Still grumpy. All I’ve got is a flare gun, three flares, and zero confidence this will be anything but moose-poking practice.

Later research confirmed flare guns actually can scare or even injure moose. At the time, though, I pictured wasting all three shots and ending up as hoof-print art in the snow.

Sidebar: Flare Guns vs Wildlife

Wolves: Scared of everything, including your hesitation. Flare gun = instant retreat.
Bears: Works if you’re quick and accurate. Miss, and you’ve just upgraded it to “angry bear.”
Moose: Vulnerable, but charging moose leave little margin for error. Pray your aim is better than your panic management.

Fire, Coffee, and False Confidence

I retreat inside, break down a couple of stools, and get a fire going. Coffee brews while my temperature climbs from “freezer aisle” to “slightly uncomfortable.” Caffeine courage in place, I decide to make another break for it.

I crack the door. Two cautious steps outside—then I hear it again. This time I actually see the moose, casually stomping away from me like it owns the place. Which, frankly, it does.

I seize the chance to sneak toward the picnic area, hoping I’ll finally find a revolver or rifle. Spoiler: no. Just more snow, more silence, and the nagging sense I’m on borrowed time.

Panic Sprint to Orca

Plan B forms in my head: head to Orca Gas Station and regroup. The snow crunches under my boots, the wind whistles between the trees—and then I hear a noise behind me. Could be the wind. Could be antlers. I don’t check. I just run. Full panic sprint, torch flaring wildly, straight to Orca’s door.

Inside, adrenaline still in overdrive, I make a silent vow: if I live through this, I’ll cook everything I can get my hands on. Meals will be my legacy.

Bullets Without a Gun

The walk back to Grey Mother’s is uneventful, which feels like winning the lottery. I throw myself into cooking: rabbit stew, venison stew, boiling water—anything to nudge my Cooking skill higher. Somewhere in the process, I drop off 32 revolver bullets into storage. The universe clearly thinks this is funny.

Three separate attempts to repair my climbing socks all fail. Morale drops. I sweep Grey Mother’s house again just in case a revolver is hiding in the corner. It’s not.

I end the day reading a book to boost my harvesting skill, the flickering lantern light casting long shadows. Outside, the moose is probably still wandering. Inside, I’m still stubborn, still alive, still armed with only a flare gun and misplaced optimism.

Day 5 Summary

Location: Milton Region
Finds: 32 revolver bullets, coffee, stew ingredients
Wildlife Watch: Persistent moose
Conditions: Cold and tense
Status: Warm, fed, moose-adjacent

Continue the Journey

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 4: Prybars, Pancake Plans, and the Blizzard Lock-In
Customloper Diaries – Day 6 ▶

More from The Long Dark

30th Jul 2025 2

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

Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Day 1

Difficulty: Normal
Optional Features: Permadeath enabled (naturally)

“Crash-landed on an island, I fight crabs, climb trees, and light my first fire. Survival starts with chaos, coconuts, and questionable plants.”

Weather / Loot / Mood

Weather: Calm seas, light breeze, deceptively peaceful for a day of disaster
Loot: Raft, crude knife, refined knife, coconuts, crab meat, basic shelter
Mood: Shocked → determined → mildly suspicious of the local wildlife

Would You Kindly Not Crash the Plane?

One moment, I was minding my own business on a plane. The next, someone must have read a note that said “would you kindly…” and down we went. If you know, you know. Coincidence? I think not.

Seconds later, I was dragging myself into a life raft, paddling (drifting?) toward the nearest island like a discount version of Tom Hanks in *Cast Away*. The ocean was calm, the sun was shining, and I had no idea that half the local wildlife would soon want me dead.

First Rule of Raft Club: Don’t Let It Float Away

I hit the shore and immediately dragged the raft up onto the sand. I’ve played enough survival games to know that if you don’t secure your transport, the game will absolutely make it vanish the second you turn your back. Raft secured, I went into scavenger mode, grabbing sticks, rocks, and whatever else looked remotely useful.

Not everything on this island was friendly. A particularly aggressive bush took a swipe at me as I got too close. I backed off, wounded in both pride and possibly my spleen. Clearly, the flora here had opinions about trespassers.

Knife to Meet You, Crabs

With my gathered resources, I crafted my first knife. Then I upgraded it to a refined knife, because the first one felt about as dangerous as a butter spreader. Time to test it out on something edible.

The game suggested crouching to hunt crabs. This, in practice, only made it easier for them to lunge at me. One particularly large crab came at me with the kind of aggression usually reserved for boss fights. Between this and the thorny bush, I was starting to wonder if the island had a “kill the newcomer” policy.

Still, I won the skirmish, and with crab meat in hand, it was time to cook. The war, however, was far from over.

Fire Good. Cooking Skill Better.

I built a campfire near the raft and fed it with sticks. Fire is life in survival games, and here was no exception. Apparently, just standing near it while food cooked would boost my Cooking skill — which meant I was now becoming a chef by proximity.

While the crab sizzled, I spotted a palm tree loaded with coconuts. In true castaway fashion, I scaled it like it owed me money, hacked down my prize, and enjoyed my first proper drink. Hydration secured. Hunger in progress.

The crab revenge counter was still open, but for now, I was alive and marginally full.

Shelter from the Darkness

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, I remembered one important fact: in Stranded Deep, you need a shelter to save the game. I went hunting for materials, avoiding the aggressive bush and giving any large crabs a suspicious side-eye.

One stubborn yucca plant refused to yield anything useful, so I abandoned it for a more cooperative one. A few resource-gathering trips later, I had what I needed. The shelter went up just as darkness settled over the island. I saved, collapsed into sleep, and mentally ticked off the tutorial as “complete.”

Tomorrow, the real work would begin: more tools, better food, and figuring out exactly how many plants on this island were actively trying to kill me. Bring it on, Stranded Deep.

Continue the Journey

Day 1 (You Are Here) |
Day 2 |
Day 3 |
Final Day

The Cold Chronicles Day Nine: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 9: Bears, Bunnies, and Blizzard Dodging

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (still lurking… somewhere)

Day 9 in Coastal Highway brings a near-bear encounter, a rabbit triumph, and a warm trailer evening. Still not at Mystery Lake — but at least I’m well-fed, slightly warmer, and marginally better at sewing socks.

Missed Day 8? Read it here.

Still Not Mystery Lake

I woke to a stillness that felt suspicious. No howling wind, no wolves pacing outside — just quiet. That’s usually when the game decides to spring something on you.

Determined to make a second attempt at reaching Mystery Lake, I packed up and retraced yesterday’s route. The wolf from Day 8 was gone, which should have been a relief, but nature likes balance. In the wolf’s place? A bear. Of course.

It was lumbering near the path, swaying its head like it owned the place — which, to be fair, it did. I froze. When it didn’t spot me, I slowly backed up the slope to my right. This wasn’t cowardice, this was strategy. The slope spat me out at the cabins the bear had been guarding the day before. I swept through them quickly, but they held little worth taking: a few tins, some thread, and an old hoodie with more holes than fabric.

Rabbit > Trailer

Heading further down the trail, I spotted a trailer and made a mental note to check it out. Then I spotted rabbits. And just like that, the trailer was forgotten. I crouched, aimed, and — miracle of miracles — hit one. Bagging small game in this weather felt like winning the survival lottery.

By the time I’d harvested it, the trailer was a few minutes behind me. I considered going back but decided to keep pushing forward. Momentum in The Long Dark is fragile — stop too long, and you’ll talk yourself into a nap instead of a trek.

Shelter from the Storm

Another trailer appeared just as the weather turned. Inside, I found a jerry can. Heavy, useful, but not worth the burden today. I left it behind with a mental bookmark in case my fuel stores ran low later.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Snow swirled, biting into any exposed skin. My pace slowed to a crawl, every step feeling like I was dragging my boots through wet cement. The landscape faded into muted greys — that in-between stage before a blizzard hits where you have just enough time to regret your choices.

I stumbled into the Train Unloading area in Coastal Highway just as the light began to fail. There was no way I was pressing on to Mystery Lake in these conditions unless I wanted to end up as tomorrow’s beachcombing loot.

Good news: there was another trailer here. Better news: it had an intact stove. Even better news: no wolves inside.

Hot Meal and Light Reading

I set up shop outside the trailer. The rabbit carcass became a proper meal — cooked meat, boiling water, even a little stockpile for the morning. As the fire crackled, I pulled out my sewing book and read by the flickering light. Sewing Level 2: achieved. I’m still not turning out runway fashion, but I might be able to patch my socks without making them worse.

With the wind howling outside, the trailer felt almost cosy. I had a belly full of rabbit, a few litres of water cooling beside me, and just enough optimism to think tomorrow might finally be the day I reach Mystery Lake.

Maybe. Unless the bear decides to relocate. Or the weather decides to remind me who’s in charge. So… probably not.

Continue the journey:
Day 8 |
Day 10

🏝️ 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

22nd Jul 2025 0

Customloper Diaries Day Four: Locked Trunks, Blizzards, and Pancake Promises

Customloper Diaries – Day 4: Prybars, Pancake Plans, and the Blizzard Lock-In

Weather: Clear morning, moose-level tension, full blizzard finale
Loot Highlights: Prybar, Storm Lantern, memento cache hint, acorns
Mood: Energised → cautious → “nope, not stepping outside”

Missed Day 3? Read it here. |
What is Customloper?

Moose Tracks and Memory Trunks

Morning at Paradise Meadows Farm is deceptively calm—blue skies, crisp air, and the kind of silence that makes you think “safe.” Which, as I’ve learned, is usually the universe setting you up for trouble. My goal is simple: get back to Grey Mother’s without freezing, starving, or becoming wildlife entertainment.

Before I even make it to the main road, I spot circling birds. If you’ve read my blog before, you know this usually means a corpse. And corpses mean loot. Sure enough, today’s offering is a prybar lying beside the unlucky owner. I take a respectful moment—then take the prybar. Survival first, sentiment later.

Milton’s Got Loot

With my new tool in hand, I march into Milton like a one-person locksmith service. Every locked trunk and locker I’d previously ignored is now fair game. The results? A couple of sodas, some gloves, and various odds and ends. Not exactly jackpot material, but the sense of clearing my “to-open” list is its own reward.

My real prize comes at Orca Gas Station. Perched on top of a ladder, basking in the weak winter sunlight, is a Storm Lantern. I’d have climbed Mount Timberwolf itself for this. It’s not just light—it’s morale. No more groping around in the dark like an amateur escape artist.

Signs in the Snow

Lantern in my pack, I head toward Milton Park. That’s when I see it—moose rubbings etched into a tree. My mood shifts instantly from “pleasant stroll” to “scan every shadow for large, angry silhouettes.” I haven’t actually seen a moose yet this run, but I’m not eager to test my odds.

Nearby, I gather acorns. They’re a small thing, but they bring me one step closer to Lily’s Pancakes—my long-term culinary goal. The catch? I still need Cooking Level 4. Which means at least seventy cups of tea, or possibly cooking every edible thing on the island. Twice.

Before heading out, I also find a memento cache hint. A promise of future loot, assuming I make it that far. If past runs are anything to go by, the odds are… let’s call them “variable.”

Blizzard Becomes the Boss Fight

By the time I start for my shelter, the snow is falling thicker. A few minutes later, I’m in the middle of a full blizzard. Visibility drops to “couldn’t find your own footprints,” and the wind is howling like it’s trying to blow the entire town off the map. Somewhere out there, I think I hear movement—could be a wolf, could be my imagination. Either way, the door stays closed.

Inside, I get a fire going, boil water, and cook whatever’s left in my pack. The mattress here is old, musty, and about as supportive as a wet paper bag, but compared to freezing to death, it’s luxury. Outside, the storm rages. Inside, I’m dry, warm, and in possession of a prybar, a storm lantern, and a future pancake dream. Could be worse.

Day 4 Summary

Location: Milton Region
Finds: Prybar, Storm Lantern, memento cache hint, acorns
Wildlife Watch: Potential moose spawn
Conditions: Blizzard-bound
Status: Warm, fed, slightly paranoid—but alive

Continue the Journey

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 3: Charcoal Maps, Rabbit Stew, and a Surprise Wolf Hug
Customloper Diaries – Day 5 ▶

Eulogy: The Backyard Wins This Round!

She never asked for this.
She never wanted to be shrunk down and tossed into a backyard where everything — ants, mites, bees, spiders, the wind — wanted her dead.
She just wanted to craft a lean-to, maybe roast some gnat meat, and figure out why the grass was taller than a skyscraper.

But she was brave.
She fixed lasers. She investigated an oak tree that promptly exploded.
She learned to fear the sounds of tiny feet in the grass.
She fought valiantly with spears, fists, and panic as her most reliable tools.

In the end, it was the bugs that got her. As they always do.
Not the spiders, no — that would’ve at least made sense.
No, her end came via something smaller. Meaner. Possibly several somethings.
The logs are unclear. The screaming was not.

She will be remembered for her resilience, her questionable armor choices, and her ability to stay alive just long enough for things to get interesting.

Rest in pieces, Backyard Explorer.
You were small, but your chaos was mighty.

Read their tale here: The Backyard Trials: Grounded Permadeath

11th Jul 2025 0

The Cold Chronicles Day Eight: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 8: Blizzard Brain, Coffee Dreams, and the Wolf-Bear Gauntlet

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because why not add another predator?)

On Day 8 of my The Long Dark Voyageur playthrough, a blizzard delays my journey to Mystery Lake, a wolf ruins my wardrobe, and a bear guards the one safe house I actually needed.

Missed Day 7? Read it here.

The World Says “No”

I woke up in the garage feeling ready. It was finally time to leave Mountain Town. I had supplies, a rifle, semi-repaired clothes, and a general sense of purpose. I opened the door—and immediately closed it again.

A blizzard. Whiteout conditions. Zero visibility. It sounded like the wind was trying to eat the building.

So instead of forging ahead, I read a sewing book for three hours. Not the action-packed survival story I’d hoped to tell, but hey—knowledge is warmth, and warmth is survival.

Loot Cache and a Coffee Blessing

When the blizzard passed, I made use of the break in weather to drop off excess gear in the garage and go hunting for anything I might’ve missed before I left the region. Turned out to be a smart call.

I found a few food items, a fishing book for future lakeside relaxation, and a couple precious packets of coffee—liquid courage for the road ahead. I also stumbled on a note tucked inside one of the buildings. It mentioned someone heading for Mystery Lake in search of shelter. That was the nudge I needed. If someone else thought it was a good spot to survive, it was good enough for me.

Destination: Mystery Lake. All I had to do was make it there alive.

A Wolf, a Cabin, and a Bear

I started my journey out of Coastal Highway with cautious optimism. I knew the route wouldn’t be easy, but I wasn’t expecting the game to throw both a wolf and a bear at me before I hit the transition zone.

The wolf spotted me and started trailing from behind. I lit my only torch, hoping to ward it off. The flame sputtered and died immediately. Classic.

I sprinted toward a nearby cabin, figuring I could slam the door behind me and catch my breath. That plan fell apart the second I saw the bear casually loitering near the entrance. Just vibing. Just existing. In my exact path.

I did a full 180 and ran like my life depended on it—because it did.

Firearms and Failure

The wolf was still chasing me. Desperate, I turned, pulled out my rifle, aimed, and missed completely. Either the cold got to me or I was too panicked to aim. Probably both.

The wolf lunged and took me down. I fought it off, but not before it shredded one of my best hats and ripped into some of my gear. More repairs. More cloth. More silent rage.

Back to the Garage

Wounded, frustrated, and very much not at Mystery Lake, I limped back to the garage like a defeated scavenger. I spent the rest of the evening repairing what I could, drinking some of that hard-earned coffee, and trying not to think about the bear still blocking the one safe house that could’ve saved me.

On the bright side, I survived. Barely. Day 9 will be my next attempt to leave this place behind—for real this time.

Unless it blizzards again. Or the bear moves in permanently.

Continue the journey:
Day 7 |
Day 9

The Cold Chronicles Day Seven: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 7: Dead Ends, Rifle Finds, and Aurora Skies

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because paranoia keeps you alive)

Day 7 on Coastal Highway brings dead-end roads, beachcombing, Barb’s rifle, and my first aurora. I almost fall through the ice (again), stash gear on Jackrabbit Island, and cook meat like a man possessed. So… a productive day?

Missed Day 6? Read it here.

The Road That Goes Nowhere

Another sunrise, another overambitious plan. Today, I decide I’m going to follow Coastal Highway all the way to its mysterious conclusion. Maybe I’ll find a new transition zone. Maybe I’ll find a wrecked truck with some rifle rounds and a can of dog food. Maybe I’ll find peace.

Spoiler: it’s a rockfall.

But I don’t know that yet. I set out early, dragging my increasingly reluctant survivor across the snow. First stop: the bridge just beyond the garage. It’s held up surprisingly well for the end of civilization. On the far side, I spot a car, and inside it—a note. Someone left a tip about a hidden cache near the garage. Tempting. Very tempting. But I decide to keep pushing forward for now. Eyes on the prize.

The road gets quieter. No wolves, no wind. Just snow crunching underfoot and the occasional groan from my guy who’s still mad about the 40kg backpack I’m making him haul. Eventually, the highway ends not with loot or glory, but a literal wall of boulders. No secret passage, no helpful signage. Just a dead end.

Rifles, Ice, and Intrusive Memories

With the highway goal dashed, I backtrack. But I’m not going to waste the day. I decide to poke around under the bridge I crossed earlier—because that’s a normal survival instinct now. Good thing I do, too.

Tucked under the support beams, half-buried in snow, is Barb’s rifle. No note, no explanation. Just the long-forgotten tool of someone else’s survival story. I take it, check the condition (not bad), and immediately feel 30% more powerful. Rifle > revolver. Every time.

Feeling cocky, I veer off the road and make my way across the ice toward Jackrabbit Island. The ice creaks and pops in that threatening way it always does, but I push forward, ignoring the very obvious signs that I am not welcome here. My screen does that “you’re about to die” wobble. I shuffle back to solid ice just in time. Somehow, I don’t fall in. Survival roulette wins again.

The Jackrabbit Hoard

I reach the house on Jackrabbit Island and decide to use it as a makeshift drop zone. I ditch the revolver, some food, a spare lantern, and whatever else I can live without. The rifle stays with me, obviously.

Loot-wise, Jackrabbit delivers. I find:

A skill book for rifles (Barb would be proud)
Another lantern (my third—clearly I have a problem)
More food, because Coastal Highway is just one big buffet if you know where to look

My inventory’s still ridiculous, but a little lighter. Temporarily.

Seagulls and Sketchy Ice

On the way back, I decide to risk a little beachcombing. I hug the shoreline, watching for anything shiny poking out of the snow—and get rewarded. A couple of arrows just sitting on the ice, half-frozen but perfectly usable. I swipe them up and head for Misanthrope Island.

As I get close, I see birds circling. That means one thing: a carcass. The ice between me and it looks about as stable as my guy’s calorie intake, but I edge closer anyway. It’s a deer, still fresh. I manage to harvest the meat and pull back without falling in. That makes two ice victories today, which honestly feels greedy.

Inside the house on Misanthrope, I find—surprise—more food and clothing. Nothing game-changing, but enough to keep the “loot goblin” part of my brain happy. I stow what I can, then head back toward the garage with a torch in hand in case wolves decide they’re hungry for man meat.

A Spark in the Static

Back at the garage, something’s different. There’s a glow. A hum. The computer whirs to life.

The aurora has arrived.

It’s my first one in this run, and it’s just as eerie as I remember. The air crackles, the sky pulses green, and the electronics—dormant and useless for days—suddenly flicker back to life. It’s beautiful in a “should I be worried?” sort of way.

I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’ve got meat to cook, water to boil, and coffee to brew. Lots of coffee. My survivor’s probably 80% caffeine at this point. I do my best diner cook impression, juggling pots and pans, and by the end of it the place smells like scorched venison and instant espresso. Not the worst way to end a day.

I eat what I can, dump the rest into storage, and crawl into bed. The aurora flickers through the window as I drift off.

Final Thoughts

Day 7 gave me a rifle, some arrows, a hidden cache hint, and a front-row seat to the aurora. Sure, I nearly fell through the ice twice and carried half my body weight in gear the whole way, but it was worth it.

Still alive. Still hoarding. Still hallucinating predators.

Continue the journey:
Day 6 |
Day 8

🧭 Weekly Recap – Survive, Sleep, Repeat

Catch up on the latest survival stories from Survivor Incognito, including permadeath tips, The Long Dark’s Customloper progress, Skyrim Survival struggles, and our chaotic first steps in Grounded. Your weekly roundup of cozy chaos and portable panic is here!

Monday:

💀 How I Handle Permadeath (And Still Sleep at Night)
I laid out my personal rules for permadeath, how I cope when a character dies a stupid death (usually of my own doing), and why it somehow keeps me coming back for more. Survival tip: Sleep helps. So does sarcasm.

Read it here: How I Handle Permadeath (and Still Sleep at Night)

Tuesday

📜 Dark Waters: A Dredge Survival – Day Three
We went further out to sea, saw things we probably shouldn’t have, and learned that fish aren’t the only things lurking in the dark. Spoiler: sanity is overrated.

Read it here: Dark Waters: A Dredge Survival – Day Three

Wednesday

🏔 Customloper – Day Two
Mountain Town continues to be less “cosy alpine retreat” and more “conveniently located death trap.” At least we are still in one piece. Mostly.

Read it here: Customloper Diaries Day Two: Blizzards, Boots, and Baseball Cap Confusion

Thursday

🗡 Skyrim Survival – Day Eight
Frostbite, bandits, and the general annoyance of being overencumbered after picking up one too many cabbages. Classic Skyrim survival energy.

Read it here: Sneak, Snipe, Repeat Day Eight

Friday:

🏡 Grounded – Day One
Honey, I Shrunk the Panic. First day in the backyard brought bugs, dehydration, and a steep learning curve. That aphid had it coming.

Read it here: The Backyard Trials: Grounded Day One – Honey, I Lost Myself in the Backyard

Coming next week:

🧊 More Long Dark, more Dark Waters, more Skyrim, and a deeper dive into the backyard horrors of Grounded. If we’re lucky, there may even be fireflies. If not, probably just death by thirst.

I’ll also hopefully have the Day One Diary for Don’t Starve up. And will explain the the rules for Snowrunner Survival. But these are both hopefully as I’m currently under the weather at the time of this going up. Thank goodness for being able to schedule posts though.

22nd Jun 2025 0

The Cold Chronicles – Day 6 Is Live!

Spoiler: Things didn’t warm up

Day 6 of The Cold Chronicles is now live—and so is my steadily growing sense of frostbitten despair.

Expect:

Another day of snow, moose anxiety, and questionable life choices

A desperate search for supplies that ends… poorly

And a reminder that even the sun looks cold in The Long Dark

 Read the latest entry here: The Cold Chronicles Day Six
❄️ Catch up on previous days via The Cold Chronicles: The Long Dark Hub

11th Jun 2025 0

Moose-terious Happenings and Bullet Mockery

Sidebar: Flare Guns vs Wildlife

Fire, Coffee, and False Confidence

Panic Sprint to Orca

Bullets Without a Gun

Day 5 Summary

Continue the Journey

More from The Long Dark

Weather / Loot / Mood

Would You Kindly Not Crash the Plane?

First Rule of Raft Club: Don’t Let It Float Away

Knife to Meet You, Crabs

Fire Good. Cooking Skill Better.

Shelter from the Darkness

Continue the Journey

More from Stranded Deep

Still Not Mystery Lake

Rabbit > Trailer

Shelter from the Storm

Hot Meal and Light Reading

More from The Long Dark

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

🔚 End of Day Summary:

🧭 What’s Next?

Moose Tracks and Memory Trunks

Milton’s Got Loot

Signs in the Snow

Blizzard Becomes the Boss Fight

Day 4 Summary

Continue the Journey

More from The Long Dark

The World Says “No”

Loot Cache and a Coffee Blessing

A Wolf, a Cabin, and a Bear

Firearms and Failure

Back to the Garage

More from The Long Dark

The Road That Goes Nowhere

Rifles, Ice, and Intrusive Memories

The Jackrabbit Hoard

Seagulls and Sketchy Ice

A Spark in the Static

Final Thoughts

More from The Long Dark

Monday:

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday:

Coming next week: