Tag: The Long Dark Interloper

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 2: Coal, Caves, and Waiting It Out

Unprepared Log 5 – Day 2: Coal, Caves, and Waiting It Out

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

I needed progress today. What I got instead was time to think.

I’d like to say I headed straight for the mine.

I didn’t.

There was a nearby trailer, and ignoring shelter this early feels reckless. I checked it quickly. No usable clothing. No tools. Nothing that justified lingering.

With that answered, the mine became the only sensible option.

Through the Mines

On the way in, I picked up every stick I passed. It’s instinct now. Fuel is survival, and sticks are the cheapest insurance available.

Inside the mine, I collected coal as I went. More than I strictly needed, but coal buys time, and time keeps you alive.

I exited the first mine and made straight for the second—the route leading toward Crumbling Highway.

A Familiar Tool

Inside the second mine, I found a prybar.

The same place I found one on my last run.

I don’t know if it’s guaranteed, but two passes and two prybars suggest it might not be coincidence. Either way, I wasn’t about to question it.

Weather Says No

As soon as I reached Crumbling Highway, the weather turned.

Blizzard.

I had no cloth for repairs. I couldn’t read skill books—I was too hungry to focus. Moving on would have achieved nothing, so I waited.

I stepped outside once or twice, just long enough to confirm it was a bad idea, then went straight back to shelter.

The Cave Hold

When the blizzard finally broke, I moved for the cave I’d used on a previous run.

I dropped the bedroll and lit a fire. The cave itself was warm, but the fire gave me light, cooking time, and something productive to do.

I prepared and cooked every reishi mushroom and rose hip I had. It’s not exciting food, but it’s dependable.

I’m deliberately avoiding overeating. Until I have a sustainable food source, restraint matters more than comfort.

End of Day Two

The plan hasn’t changed. Mystery Lake is still the goal.

Before that, I intend to strip as much value as I can from Coastal Highway. Leaving resources behind on Interloper is how runs end early.

Two days in, and this already feels better than the last attempt.

Maybe the game is being kind.

I doubt it.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 1 |
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 3

0

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 1: You Again!

Unprepared Log 5 – Day 1: You Again

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

Apparently, changing survivor does not change my luck.

Even after switching to Will, The Long Dark drops me into the exact same spawn it gave Astrid.

Desolation Point. Again.

At this point it feels less like randomness and more like a test of character.

The difference this time is simple: I’m not arguing with the region. I’m passing through it.

Loot, Don’t Linger

The plan is immediate and non-negotiable: get to Hibernia Processing.

On the way, I scoop up whatever I can without slowing down — sticks, rose hips, reishi mushrooms. The usual early-game survival tax.

I make a half-hearted attempt at rabbits. They take one look at me and decide today is not the day.

No sign of bridge moose. I assume this spawn has given me rock moose instead. I’m nowhere near him, and I intend to keep it that way.

I avoid the ice entirely. Day 1 is not when you gamble.

The goal is to loot Hibernia, sleep there, and leave Desolation Point behind tomorrow.

Thinking Long-Term

The real objective isn’t here.

I want Mystery Lake, then straight on to Forlorn Muskeg for the forge.

This is a loot-and-go run. Previous attempts taught me that lingering in Desolation Point just turns into a slow death.

Coastal Highway is the next stop for a reason:

  • A chance at a hacksaw in the garage
  • Cat tails to keep me alive without wasting matches

If the hacksaw doesn’t show up, I’ll take a heavy hammer. I just need a path toward improvised tools.

I’ve thought about coming back here for the forge before. This region has repeatedly informed me that this is a bad idea.

Forlorn Muskeg can have the honours.

Hibernia Processing

I reach Hibernia and begin the most important activity of any Interloper start.

Match hunting.

The game turns it into a round of hide and seek, but eventually I spot them tucked into a dark corner on a shelf.

That’s enough to keep the run alive.

I get a fire going and start looting properly.

Then I see it.

A bedroll.

At that moment, the absence of a hacksaw stops mattering.

A bedroll means caves are viable shelter. It means blizzards don’t automatically end the run. It means I’m no longer one bad weather roll away from disaster.

A bearskin bedroll would be ideal. This will do.

Food Is a Future Problem

I find a small stash of food. Enough to buy me a day or two.

I’ve learned not to obsess over hunger. Right now, calories just need to exist, not be comfortable.

Long-term, I need something sustainable. Rabbits and ptarmigans make sense early on, but without a bow or snares, I’m going to be throwing rocks for a while.

Another reason Coastal Highway needs to happen quickly.

I cook what I can while the fire is going:

  • Mushrooms
  • Coffee
  • Peaches, while boiling water

I also find a windbreaker jacket. Not great, but it beats freezing slightly faster.

No hat. No gloves. Frostbite is still very much on the menu.

End of Day 1

I eat, drink, and finally sleep.

Tomorrow’s plan is clear:

  • Head for Abandoned Mine No. 5
  • Collect coal along the way
  • Hope lightning strikes twice with a prybar
  • Push into Coastal Highway

This run already feels different.

Not easier.

Just less naive.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 2

1

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #4 – Final Day: So Close It Hurt

Unprepared Log 4 – Final Day: So Close It Hurt

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid

Today’s plan was simple. Which should have been my first warning.

I needed matches. Or failing that, food. Something—anything—that would let this run survive another day.

I headed for the nearest fishing hut first. No matches. No food. No joy.

With wolves very much on my mind, I made a call. Stick to the road. I had rabbit meat on me, and I didn’t rate my chances in a surprise encounter.

If it came to it, I could always drop the meat and hope that bought me space.

False Hope on the River

I reached the end of the road still matchless, but not empty-handed on ideas.

The river meant cat tails. Light, reliable, and one of the few food sources that doesn’t argue back.

I started working my way along the river edge, carefully, methodically. With every handful of cat tails, my chances ticked upward.

For the first time all day, survival felt possible.

The Bear

Then I saw it.

The bear.

I froze for half a second too long. Completely forgot I had flares. Panic took over.

I turned and ran.

I knew a flare probably wouldn’t stop a charging bear anyway, so I went with the next desperate idea: drop the rabbit meat.

Maybe it would accept that.

It didn’t.

Second Chances Don’t Exist

The attack left me bleeding badly. Infection risk followed soon after.

I managed to treat the infection, but my condition was critically low. Every step felt borrowed.

The bear walked away.

For a moment, I thought I might limp out of this.

I was wrong.

It came back.

There was no second plan. No miracle item. No recovery window.

The blood loss finished what the first charge started.

End of the Run

That was it.

My best Interloper run to date, ended just as it started—underprepared, unlucky, and one mistake away from survival.

Still.

I lasted longer. I learned more. And for the first time, it felt like Interloper was something I could eventually solve.

Just not today.

1

Video Log

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

0

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.

0

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.

1

Video Log

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

1

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

1

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑