Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Still not starving.


I felt woefully unprepared when winter came.  A few crock pots, a meagre berry farm and a half-dozen bee hives were all I had to show for my summer's work.  The map is too vast!  Forests for lumber are a day and a half's walk from home, meadows for bees even further.  I've found only the edge of a swamp, no reliable rocky biome to harvest ore from, and where on earth is the clockwork biome?

There was work to be done.

The beefalo herd near my camp was vast, and ripe for culling.  As winter descended, I cut down two of the beasts, and began hunting rabbits to gather enough morsels of meat to cook some sustaining vittles - but rabbits only come out of their warrens during the day, and daylight hours in winter are terribly short.  Over two days, I caught five rabbits.

Not nearly good enough.

As the sun set, I took down a third beefalo, and thus armed with 12 meats and five morsels, I cooked up four meaty stews.  This would last me almost a full week away from home.

I tried to pack light - who knows what I'd find to bring home out there? - and headed out at first light, Chester, my strange dog-slash-storage-chest companion, hopping along behind me.


Together, we wandered east, through the meadows and forests thick with spiders.

Lightning struck, and burned one of those forests down.  Oh well - free charcoal.

After a day and a half of travel, we came to the edge of the swamp biome.  Here, finally, I could gather the reeds I desperately need to fashion a bird cage.  As we wandered the swamp, careful not to arouse the violence of the tentacles that spawn there, I found an edge and followed it, fleshing out the map.

Where on earth was the chess biome?  Only there could gears be found.  Only there could I obtain the precious particulars necessary to craft refrigerators, thus massively increasing the life span of food.

After hitting the ocean at the southern end the swamp, we cut west and followed the coastline.  I came across a spider den or two - silk is always handy to have - and lured the spiders towards a tentacle that growled beneath the surface.

Tentacles are incredibly dangerous, as they end in a vicious, spiked tip that will cut down an un-armored Wilson in no time flat.


They're also incredibly valuable, as they end in a vicious, spiked tip that - if dropped upon its death - is one of the best melee weapons in the game.

I had never killed a tentacle, personally.  I gave them a very wide berth, and only ever got the precious tentacle spikes when the weird fish-men - merms - swarmed one and took it down.  Then I would dash in, take the prize and run for the hills.

But as the spiders emerged from their den to challenge me, they stood atop the tentacle's hidey-hole.  It rose up and slashed one of them, and they all took to attacking it.  As the combat took place so close to their nest, the nest erupted in yet more spiders, led by a spider-soldier.

The tentacle massacred them.

But they must have done some damage to it, right?

I took off my backpack, and pulled on my log armor suit (2 rope, 8 logs).  I took off my warm winter hat (4 silk, 4 beefalo wool) and put on my football helmet (1 pig skin, 1 rope).  I equipped my spear and dropped Chester's eyeball bone, to ensure he kept away from what was about to happen.

And today, I learned how to kill tentacles.

By the time I emerged from the swamp, I had killed four of them without the assistance of spiders, and earned myself two of their precious spikes.

Then, still sporting two meaty stews (and two dozen long-lasting honeys, besides), I set off for home.

My health was dangerously low, but I was thrilled by my success and...

"Did you hear that?" Wilson asked.

The hounds were coming.

Desperately, I dashed north to a wormhole I'd discovered on my way to the swamp.  Perhaps I could remain near it, and dive into it just before the hounds got to me.  With no pigs, with no beefalo, I'd have no chance against a full-on hound attack.

When the hounds came, I leapt into the worm hole.  It spit me out in a nearby forest, thick with pigs I'd rendered homeless when I broke their dwellings down to composite parts, to assemble my own protective pig town.

When the hounds came for me there, the pigs took care of them.  Then, finding myself in said thick forest, I decided to see if the spiders there had finally upgraded their nests to tier threes.  A tier-three spider's nest can be destroyed, and will always produce a spider's egg - which I can then use to create what's basically an easily-accessible spider farm near my camp.


I went southwest and strode past the Pig King, who trades trinkets for gold - for on the other side of his village laythe first three spider colonies I'd come across.  They had evolved to tier three nests.

I dropped Chester's eyeball bone and quickly assembled three traps from twigs (2) and grasses (6).  Clearing spider nests is done by baiting the spiders into your traps, and finishing off the final one with your axe or spear.

After clearing two of the nests and obtaining my eggs (and a ton of silk!), dusk settled across the forest, and I began to get a little cold.  I would have to start a camp fire to warm up, and...

...but I couldn't start a camp fire.  I only had two grasses left, after making all those traps.

I couldn't light a campfire.  I couldn't light light!

The cold would kill me!  When it got really dark, the creature that lives in the darkness would definitely kill me!

That's it.  That's it, man.  I'm dead.  Game over, man.  Dead on day thirty-three.

Wait, maybe there's some grass nearby!  I mean, it's a forest, but I opened my map to check and... no.

No, the nearest grass was a half-day's walk away.  I'd freeze to death before I got there.  What the fuck.  I can... I can make a torch!  With two grass, I can make a torch and that'll give me enough light to...

...to maybe get halfway through the night before it goes out.  If I don't freeze to death first.

Fuck.  Fuck, man.

But I can make a torch.  And I don't have to equip the torch.


I made a torch (2 grass, 2 twigs).

I opened my inventory, selected a single piece of charcoal, and dropped it on the ground.

It lit it with the torch - it burst into warming, blazing flame - and unequipped the torch.  Torch now at 99%.

I survived that night, and got eight piles of ashes for making healing salves, to boot.  The next day, I packed up Chester and started home.

Why aren't I playing Evil Within?

2 comments:

  1. Oh Chester... that lovable scamp-eroni

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    1. I think part of his endearment is how easily he gets himself into trouble. "Otto von Chesterfield! Get out of that forest fire! Come, boy, come! Oh, fine, just burn, then."

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