Tag: Survival Game Blog

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 8 & Day 9: Written Evidence Only

Unprepared Log 5 – Days 8 & 9: Written Evidence Only

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

The footage didn’t survive. The run did.

The recordings for Days 8 and 9 were corrupted and unsalvageable.

No video. No backup. Just two days that still counted.

My condition was bad, but time was at least working in the background. Maple and birch saplings were curing. Rabbit hide and gut were curing too.

That meant I had a future.

I just needed to reach it.

Day 8 – No Free Loot, Only Weather

I started by checking the other trailer in the area.

It had a fat lot of nothing.

So the Dam became the plan.

On the way, the sky started doing that familiar thing again. The wind sharpened. The light flattened. The whole world looked like it was about to turn into a white wall.

It felt like another blizzard was loading in.

Three blizzards in three days. Efficient.

The Dam: Better Than Nothing

The Dam didn’t give me a miracle, but it wasn’t empty.

I found ear wool wraps and a festive sweater.

Not tools. Not fire. But warmth is still leverage on Interloper.

I could have pushed further into the Dam.

I didn’t.

Lantern fuel was low, and torches were becoming a real commodity. I wasn’t going to spend visibility on curiosity.

Camp Office, Because I Needed a Win

I decided the best move was heading for the Camp Office.

It was Mystery Lake. Surely the game might take pity on me.

That thought lasted until a wolf appeared and started shadowing me.

I passed a deer carcass, hoping it would peel off and take the easy meal.

Nope.

I wanted to hit the trailers in the derailment area.

The wolf refused to let me do anything except keep moving.

I tried running.

It sped up.

Camp Office in Sight, Moose in the Way

The Camp Office came into view.

So did a moose.

For a second, I thought I’d traded one problem for a much worse one.

But this time the moose decided I wasn’t worth the effort.

I took the gift.

I went straight inside.

Pancakes for Survival Reasons

The Camp Office gave me a skillet and a hockey jersey.

It helped more than it should have.

Between the supplies I’d been scraping together and what I already had, I could finally make pancakes.

After everything, I needed a morale win that didn’t involve not dying.

I cooked what I could.

I repaired what I could.

Then I called it a day.

Day 9 – A Quiet Start in a Dark Office

Day 9 started with me waking up in a dark Camp Office.

No drama.

No instant weather tantrum.

Just the usual Interloper reminder that every match matters.

I decided to check the cabins on the far side of Mystery Lake.

They didn’t give me much.

Mostly books for the fire.

But I did find a pair of trail boots.

I swapped them for my leather shoes and kept moving.

The Bear Cabin: Confirmation, Not Combat

I headed toward the cabin near where the bear can be.

Sure enough, the bear was there.

Thankfully, it was walking back toward its cave.

I let it go.

I didn’t need heroics.

I needed tools.

Trapper’s Homestead: The Trip That Paid Off

I still had plenty of time left in the day.

So I pushed on for Trapper’s Homestead.

On the way, I had another wolf that insisted on following me.

It stayed close, but it didn’t commit.

I didn’t stop to negotiate.

I kept moving until the door was in reach.

Inside, I finally got the kind of win Interloper tries to deny you.

A heavy hammer.

That was the trip. That was the point. That was future survival.

Resetting the Run

I spent the rest of the day, and part of the night, cooking what I could.

Then I made the smart choice for once and drank a birch bark tea.

I needed condition back, and I needed it without gambling on fights or weather.

I slept at Trapper’s and woke up on Day 10 with an actual plan.

Next goal: find a magnifying glass, or at least a firestriker.

Because tools are finally catching up.

Now I need fire to stop being a daily crisis.

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 7 |
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 10

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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 6: Cold Enough to Rush

Unprepared Log 5 – Day 6: Cold Enough to Rush

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

The Ravine doesn’t threaten you. It just removes your margin for error.

Today was meant to be a transition day.

Leave Coastal Highway. Cross the Ravine. Reach Mystery Lake.

The route itself behaved. The cold didn’t.

This place is brutally efficient at draining warmth. I kept moving, knowing full well this isn’t somewhere you loiter and survive by accident.

The rail section still bothers me. One stretch always feels like it’s waiting for a mistake. I treat it as rehearsal for Ash Canyon, assuming I ever earn the right to go there.

Expectations Management

There’s a known hammer chance here.

I didn’t expect it to show.

It didn’t.

No disappointment. Just confirmation.

Cave Heat and Familiar Failure

I found a cave and stopped long enough to get warm.

While the fire burned, I caught myself regretting the two deer hides I’d left behind earlier. That was a future problem then. It still is.

Rabbits milled around outside.

I tried.

The rabbits won.

This is starting to feel like a pattern rather than bad luck.

Blizzard Logic

I decided to cook for skill gains while I had shelter.

The weather decided otherwise.

A blizzard rolled in while I was still in the cave, removing the option to push forward. Waiting became mandatory.

I ate enough to stay focused and spent the time reading a sewing book. I’ve been repairing gear constantly. Raising that skill matters more than saving calories I might lose tomorrow anyway.

Interloper rewards preparation. It punishes hesitation.

Rope and a Delayed Exit

The blizzard eventually broke.

So did the day.

I didn’t trust the remaining light to get me safely into Mystery Lake. Instead, I pushed to the next cave and found a mountaineering rope.

That at least allowed me to check the area I’d been considering.

No hammer.

Still, information is progress.

Not Lingering

I slept in the Ravine.

No predators here, but the cold feels personal. Aggressive. Like it wants you gone.

I don’t intend to stay longer than necessary.

Mystery Lake needs to happen soon.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 5 |
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 7

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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 5: The Bow Dream Persists

Unprepared Log 5 – Day 5: The Bow Dream Persists

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

It feels strange to still be here.

I didn’t expect this run to last. Not on Interloper. But five days in, I’m still upright, still moving, still counting small victories like they matter. Because they do.

Today’s plan was simple. Move carefully. Take what the map allows. Don’t get greedy.

The ice had other ideas.

Island Hopping

I crossed the ice toward the fishing cabins, step by deliberate step.

A suitcase had washed up after the blizzard. Thick ice this time, thankfully. I checked it anyway.

Nothing useful.

No camera. No reason to carry film. I left it behind.

The first island paid out better.

A birch sapling.

That means one arrow someday. Not many. Just one. Enough to keep the idea alive.

The second island followed up with a maple sapling.

The bow dream didn’t die today.

The cabins themselves were empty. No surprises. No correction to the balance.

Cooking for Progress

I lit a fire and cooked the rabbit.

I added anything else I could justify, not out of hunger, but for experience. Cooking skill still hasn’t hit level two, which feels wrong given how much time I’ve spent staring at fires.

Interloper doesn’t reward effort. Only outcomes.

When the fire burned down, I pulled a torch and moved on.

The River Remembers

I followed the river. The same one that ended the last run.

Cattails lined the banks. I took every one.

A deer carcass lay ahead. I considered committing to it. Wind killed that idea quickly.

I took one kilo of meat.

Greed gets you killed. I’ve learned that lesson already.

At the bridge it finally clicked.

The Ravine is close.

Mystery Lake is no longer theoretical.

Not today, though. Not like this.

Tea and Repairs

I diverted to the Train Unloading trailer.

Herbal tea.

I was happier about that than I should admit.

I made another fire in the nearby tunnel. Cooked what I could. Boiled water. Prepared teas.

I repaired my windbreaker jacket. Again.

It’s holding together out of spite at this point.

The bow is getting closer. I know better than to expect miracles, but I can already feel the disappointment waiting.

Calling It

I broke my rule and ate before bed so I could read a sewing book.

Once it got too dark, I stepped outside to keep reading.

The weather answered immediately.

I didn’t wait to confirm if it was a blizzard.

I went back inside.

Herbal tea. Sleep.

Tomorrow, the Ravine.

And maybe, if the debt hasn’t come due yet, a heavy hammer.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 4 |
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 6

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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 4: A Debt Is Forming

Unprepared Log 5 – Day 4: A Debt Is Forming

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

The day gave me what I wanted. That’s never free on Interloper.

Today was meant to be a cleanup operation. Loot thoroughly, then leave. Mystery Lake is still the goal, but I wanted one last attempt at securing proper tools before committing.

A heavy hammer would mean long-term survival.

A hacksaw would mean immediate leverage.

I stepped outside the garage.

The hacksaw was waiting.

No detour. No risk. No trade.

That kind of luck doesn’t happen on Interloper. It accumulates. It sits quietly. It waits to be collected later.

I checked the save file again. Same answer. Same difficulty. Same unease.

The Warning Shot

With the hacksaw secured, I headed toward the cabins. There was still daylight, and I didn’t want to waste it.

I didn’t get far.

The sound came first. Heavy. Deliberate.

A bear.

No hesitation. I turned and ran. If panic counts as training, I was an elite athlete.

I escaped.

That felt less like success and more like a reminder.

The game now knows where I am.

Jackrabbit Island Pushback

I rerouted to Jackrabbit Island.

Crows circled over a corpse near the ice, probably dragged in by the last blizzard. I checked my weight, watched the ice, and stopped myself.

Weak ice doesn’t care how desperate you are.

I backed off.

Rabbits, at least, felt manageable.

One stun worked.

The next rabbit absorbed three clean hits.

Three recoveries. Three escapes.

That felt deliberate.

The day had already decided how generous it was going to be.

The Weather Collects Interest

The interior loot was thin. Nothing to balance the scales.

I rested for an hour and planned a push across the ice toward the houses.

The moment I opened the door, the blizzard answered.

I closed it again.

No argument. No delay. Just a firm no.

I harvested the rabbit instead. I considered leaving the hide and guts behind to cure, but I carried them with me. If the game is going to charge me later, I want every advantage in hand.

What Comes Next

Tomorrow’s objective is fixed.

Reach the Ravine.

If nothing collapses, Mystery Lake should follow within a day or two.

I have tools now.

That doesn’t feel like progress.

It feels like a balance sheet.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 3 |
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 5

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The Long Dark – Stalker Instinct Log #3: Turns Out I Was Already Armed

Difficulty: Stalker
Region: Mystery Lake

The day started well. I sat down at the crafting table to work on my bow, settled in, got into a rhythm… and realised I hadn’t hit record. Rookie mistake. I’d only lost about an hour of crafting, so I chalked it up as a warning shot from the universe.

As punishment, I stopped crafting and went outside. The bow could wait.

The Bow I Forgot I Owned

I grabbed some beef jerky and immediately spotted something I had somehow missed the day before: arrows. Several of them. Right next to them? A bow.

In my excitement during the last log, I’d completely overlooked the fact I already had a functional weapon setup. No crafting required. I took the bow, checked the arrows, and headed straight out to see what my snares had been up to.

Two rabbits, caught cleanly. I reset the snares, started a fire, and immediately had it refuse to light. One match gone, no progress.

Quick reminder for anyone new to this:

  • Light a torch first
  • Use the torch to start fires
  • Save matches for when you actually need them

Food cooked. Water sorted. Crisis avoided.

Exploring Mystery Lake (The Hard Way)

With supplies handled, I decided to explore more of Mystery Lake. I knew there had to be another way down besides the rope, and I was determined to find it.

I did. Eventually.

It cost me a sprained wrist and ankle, but I had bandages and painkillers to spare. No panic. Once I got my bearings and realised I’d hit the transition toward Forlorn Muskeg, I made the call to head for Trapper’s Homestead.

Worst case, I lose some daylight. Best case, I find better clothing.

Crafting Progress (And Future Problems)

No luck on the clothing front, but the trip wasn’t wasted. While there, I crafted a rabbitskin hat. Not glamorous, but effective.

Next target:

  • Rabbitskin mittens

I dropped another snare nearby. No rabbits in sight, but that’s future me’s problem.

I also made a point of staying outside as much as possible. Cabin fever will become an issue eventually, and I’m not interested in speeding that up.

Threats on the Horizon

Two long-term concerns are now officially on my list:

  • Cabin fever – managed for now by not living indoors
  • Scurvy – temporarily covered by stored food, but fishing will be needed

Fishing is unavoidable. It’s just a matter of when.

Stalker Reality Check

Three logs in, and Stalker hasn’t been the nightmare I expected. I genuinely thought I’d be tripping over wolves every time I stepped outside.

That hasn’t happened. Yet.

The tension is there. The margin for error is thinner. But so far, it feels manageable — and more importantly, enjoyable.

That probably means the game is waiting.

Video Log


Continue the journey:
Stalker Instinct – Log 2 |
Log 3 (You Are Here) |
Log 4 (Coming Soon)

More from The Long Dark

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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.

0

Video Log

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

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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #3 – Day 1

Unprepared Log 3 – Day 1: Close Enough to Matter

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid

I decided to mix things up and go as Astrid. The game thought the same thing and sent me to Desolation Point.

Already, this felt like a better start.

I’ve been here a few times on easier difficulties. Not confident — just familiar enough to believe I had a chance. Compared to some Interloper spawns, this felt almost reasonable.

I headed straight for the lighthouse. Closest structure. It wasn’t warm enough to keep me comfortable, but it was shelter, and at this point that was enough.

I found nothing useful inside, so I moved on.

Same Bridge, Same Problem

I considered the church, but I rated my chances higher at the Whale Processing Unit.

Then I saw the bridge.

And, of course, there was a moose on it.

I’m convinced that moose lives there. Every time I want to cross, it’s waiting. Not aggressive. Just present. Like it knows.

I rerouted to the Riken instead. It felt like a smart move right up until I stepped inside and realised I couldn’t see a thing.

No light. No fire. No patience.

I backed out and committed to the Whale Processing Unit.

0

A Small Win

I checked the trailers first. Barely warm, but warm enough to slow the temperature drop.

I searched for cloth. Nothing. Not a single scrap. Which meant no makeshift hat and an exposed head for the foreseeable future.

I stepped back outside and immediately walked into a blizzard.

Perfect timing.

The Whale Processing Unit was right there, so I made a run for it — and finally caught a break.

Matches.

Twelve of them. Actual progress. I got a fire going, made water, pulled torches, and kept that fire alive as long as I could.

I found a nearby safe. Some food. Some cash. Nothing else.

Still, for Interloper, this felt like momentum.

The Riken Mistake

Then the worst thing happened.

I got itchy feet.

I knew there was a forge on the Riken. I stood there watching water boil, convincing myself it was worth the risk.

It wasn’t.

The Riken had nothing useful. No tools. No help. Just a note and the key for a memento cache.

Then I made the mistake that quietly followed me for the rest of the run.

I slept for a couple of hours and forgot that sleeping automatically extinguishes a torch.

When I woke up, it was dark — and the only way to get moving again was to burn a match to relight it.

One small lapse. One less match. I moved on without realising how much that would matter later.

Losing the Thread

I headed back toward the Whale Processing Unit to look for the memento cache.

Something got angry out on the ice.

I never saw it, but my money was on a moose. I’ve heard them casually wandering around in blizzards before. They’re built differently.

I searched for the cache but couldn’t pinpoint it. I knew the area, just not well enough.

Rather than waste daylight, I moved on.

I eventually reached another trailer and found a fire barrel. I got it going and checked inside.

Nothing useful. There was a bed.

I ignored it.

Scruffy’s Cave

I wanted the Abandoned Mine. Surely that would pay out.

I grabbed sticks, fed the fire, took a few torches, and set off.

Along the way I picked up three wolves. As long as the torches stayed lit, they kept their distance.

I reached a cave and went inside.

The plan was simple: pick a wall, follow it, and let the cave lead me somewhere useful.

I found a deer carcass. Meat on the ground. If I could get a fire going, this run might actually stabilise.

Then the music changed.

I wasn’t alone.

I’d walked straight into Scruffy’s cave.

I still had a torch, but I was already paying for the mistake I’d made earlier on the Riken.

That wasted match meant less margin, less flexibility, and no room for hesitation.

Scruffy didn’t hesitate. He ignored the flame, charged straight through it, and ended the run.

Time survived: 17 hours.

My longest run so far.

Not ended by one bad decision — but by a small one made hours earlier.

1

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 2 – Day 1 |
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 1

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Quick Campfire Update

Life rolled a natural 1 on me recently, so a few things behind the scenes went sideways. Nothing I’m getting into here, but let’s just say the last couple of weeks have been… a mood.

Because of that, you might have seen some series haven’t been getting entries. This is because some series are getting a short pause. I’m not shelving anything — just conserving energy and picking the things I can actually handle without setting myself on fire in the process.

For now, the Mario 64 Randomizer stays active, because jumping into chaos with a plumber is about the level of brain power I have. The bigger, heavier series will return once real life stops speed-running me.

Thanks for sticking around while I respawn a bit.

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

Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Day 3

Difficulty: Normal
Optional Features: Permadeath enabled (naturally)

“Hydration success, culinary failure, and the return of a long-lost knife.”

Weather / Loot / Mood

  • Weather: Warm morning sun, light breeze, suspiciously perfect for false optimism
  • Loot: Cloth (from mystery container), water still, refined knife (found in sand), shattered coconut dreams
  • Mood: Parched → euphoric → regretful → betrayed

Water Still Victory

I woke with a tongue like sandpaper and the hydration levels of a sun-bleached raisin. Today’s mission was clear: build a water still. The problem? I had no cloth — or at least, that’s what I believed.

While digging through my supplies, I remembered the sealed storage container I’d been dragging around like some clueless beach hoarder. Inside, lying there like a treasure in a castaway’s dream, was one glorious piece of cloth. Just enough for what I needed.

Moments later, I had all the parts gathered, and the still was built — my first real piece of survival infrastructure. It stood proudly in the sand, a guarantee that thirst would no longer be my most urgent problem. I almost gave it a name.

Floating Cloth and Coconut Regrets

Of course, before the still came together, my cloth had to put on a show. When I dropped it on the ground, it stood upright like it was trying to defy gravity — or audition for a magic act. Strange, yes, but soon incorporated into my new pride and joy.

With water secured, I turned my attention to food. Variety was key — crabs and coconuts had kept me alive so far, but they weren’t exactly a balanced diet. I set my sights on fish, convinced a fire spit would be my ticket to grilled seafood glory.

But first, a quick survival PSA: never eat too many coconuts. The consequences are… unpleasant. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say my digestive system filed an official complaint and threatened industrial action.

Island Limits & A Knife’s Return

My island had been generous, but the easy loot was running out. If I wanted to thrive — or even just eat something different — I’d have to explore further afield. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment, but survival doesn’t really take “maybe later” as an answer.

While gathering materials for the journey, I spotted something glinting in the sand. It was my refined knife — the same one I’d apparently dropped days ago, possibly while fleeing a crab with attitude issues. I picked it up and welcomed it back into my inventory like an old friend who’d just wandered back from the pub.

I also discovered I could make a wooden farming plot. Long-term food production sounded fantastic… until I realised I didn’t have a hoe. That idea went straight onto my “future ambitions” list, somewhere between “build a smoker” and “stop capsizing my raft.”

The Fire Spit Betrayal

Finally, the fire spit was built, my visions of sizzling fish nearly within reach. I placed my catch over the fire and… nothing. Turns out the fire spit is not the universal cooking solution I hoped for. Apparently, fish require a more advanced setup — a smoker, or perhaps a deal with the culinary gods.

So the day ended with me sipping fresh water and eating yet more crab, while the dream of grilled fish drifted out to sea like an unanchored raft. Still, progress had been made: hydration secured, knife recovered, lesson learned.

Tomorrow, I’ll brave the sea and head for another island. If I find my way back here, great. If not… well, coconuts probably taste the same everywhere.

Continue the Journey

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

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

Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Day 2

Difficulty: Normal
Optional Features: Permadeath enabled (naturally)

“Water is scarce, knives keep breaking, and coconuts betray me.”

Weather / Loot / Mood

  • Weather: Sunny with a calm breeze, deceptively inviting for a day of mistakes
  • Loot: Two refined knives (both broken), crude knife, potato crop, yucca fruit, several speared fish
  • Mood: Parched → resourceful → frustrated → plotting escape

Death by Dehydration and Knife-Based Regret

Day 2 started the way all my survival days seem to — fighting to stay alive with fewer resources than the average beach picnic. Water was the clear priority, so I cracked open a few coconuts to keep my hydration meter from flatlining. Just as I started to feel less like a dried-out husk and more like an actual human being… snap. My refined knife broke in my hand.

One second I had my most valuable tool, the next it was reduced to the kind of scrap metal you’d find washed up on a stormy shore. With it gone, my ability to gather resources properly took a nosedive, and I was back to square one.

Knife? Check. Brain? Debatable.

Thankfully, making a crude knife was easy enough. Unfortunately, I forgot that I could use that knife to craft another refined one. It was like having the solution in my pocket but refusing to read the instructions. In my defence, dehydration may have been quietly sabotaging my brain function.

When I finally pieced it together, I felt like the island’s least stylish blacksmith, reforging my refined knife like it was a lost relic. Feeling smug, I checked the crafting menu for new possibilities. A fire pit? Doable and quick. A water still? Perfect — except it needed cloth. And cloth, as far as I could tell, was rarer on this island than polite seagulls.

My Kingdom for a Rag

The water still became my new obsession. If I could build one, I’d solve my hydration issues for good. But without cloth, it was a dream just out of reach. I decided to prepare the other materials in advance, so all I’d need to do was slot the fabric into place once I found it.

In the process, I managed to break my second refined knife of the day. The culprit? The island’s one unyielding yucca tree, which I kept attacking like it was hiding a secret stash of loot. If anything, it only seemed to grow more smug about my failures. On the bright side, my scavenging turned up a potato crop and a yucca fruit — the makings of a future farm if I could ever get beyond the “not dying of thirst” stage of survival.

Spearfishing for Sadness

Needing a morale boost, I took to the ocean with a crude spear, ready to prove I could at least feed myself. The fish were easy enough to catch — a few quick jabs and they were mine. I strutted back to shore with my haul, already picturing a beachside fish roast.

That fantasy crumbled faster than my knives when I discovered my fire pit wasn’t suitable for cooking fish. Apparently, I needed something more advanced — a smoker, a spit, or possibly a degree in tropical culinary arts. The fish went into storage, and my dreams went up in smoke without ever lighting the fire.

As the sun set, I stared out toward the horizon. Tomorrow, I’d choose an island and head for it. Either it would have cloth, or I’d be stuck crafting a distress flag out of coconut husks, stubborn yucca bark, and pure spite.

Continue the Journey

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

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