Tag: Unprepared

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 11: Threw Arrows Cold, One Step Forward

Unprepared Log 11: Three Arrows Cold, One Step Forward

Difficulty: Interloper
Region: Mystery Lake
Survivor: Will

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

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

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

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

Back Down the Path

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

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

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

The Derailment Detour Pays Off

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cave I Definitely Know Exists

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

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

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

Furniture Crime and Firewood Math

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

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

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

Cooking, Water, and the First Aurora

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

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

Improvised Hatchet: The Scrap Metal Problem

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

The answer is simple and annoying:
five scrap metal.

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

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

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 10 |
Unprepared Log 12

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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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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.

0

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.

1

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 #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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