It's been a rough 12 days.


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First time back in the game since November. Loving the progress the game has made! I fired up a fresh file on Stalker, (first time choosing the difficulty) and chose the Coastal Highway, never having actually explored it, looking for a challenge. On night one I contract hypothermia trying to find a suitable shelter, nearly dying (2%) by the time I got indoors. I spend the next FIVE days at less than 40% Trying to stay warm without starving to death, moving from cabin to cabin, foraging for wood and canned beans. Then my eyes fall upon a proper house, two of them, and a metal shed. And I figure "I'm gonna make it", and quicken my step towards warmth and a full belly. But then, from 'round a blind corner, a wolf sprints toward me. Fumbling for my only flare, he pounces on me, thrashing and snarling. I break free, injuring the beast, and sprint for the flat-topped house, in shock and bleeding profusely. At under 10% health again, I gave up. I simply knew I was doomed to become a frosted corpsicle like the others. But then I saw it, the medicine shelf. Dizzy and disoriented I managed to stop the bleeding, drink some water, and fall asleep hungry and half dead. I was amazed to see that I survived and, after a hearty breakfast I was in fact doing better than I had been in days, I had my strength back. But I was still hypothermic, so I stayed inside and slept for an entire day, having so little to eat, and only soda to drink. A few days later I passed through the abandoned mine, and into Pleasant Valley. holycrapthemapishugenow I was healthy and prepared for the first time in days, ready to track down a serious dwelling. The sky was clear, and beautiful, and i decided to take what I thought was the long way down into the valley in hopes of finding some supplies. What I found, was a Hoth-grade blizzard. It set in so fast I didn't even get to find my bearings. I was in great shape when I exited the cave, but this blizzard was so cold, and so thick, I began to freeze. My pack became unbearably heavy, tiring quickly as I trudged through the snow. I began to drop my food first, then some tools, then it all caught up to me. I was exhausted, and frozen, with no sight of shelter. My condition worsened frighteningly quick, and the icy grasp of hypothermia set in once again. Not a moment later, a bright yellow tractor emerged from the fog, and behind it, a red barn. I again, narrowly escaped death in that barn. Somehow managed to find the will to go on. "Where would I go? Is this as good a shelter as I will find? I'd rather die here, in comfort, than out there in the cold..." I thought. But as I sat there, living on crackers and condensed milk, passing the time. I decided to take one quick look around, now that the air was clear, to see if I could find any where better insulated, maybe I could find some tools too. So I set out with minimal supplies, sure I'd return, and I walked to the road, and down the hill, and it wasn't more than a kilometer. I saw exactly what I was looking for, a homestead, but before I could reach the cozy wooden home, another flash blizzard set in quick and deep. I sprinted for the door. Now here I am, nearly five days later, and the blizzard has raged every minute. I'm running low on supplies, but every day is a victory, I won't just give up.

Coldwelder-

Posted

I awoke to the sound of my grumbling stomach, sounding hollow and vast. The howling of the wind had subsided, and gold light poured from the east window onto my face for the first time in nearly a week. The storm was over. Weak with hunger, I willed myself to fix a small breakfast of coffee and beans. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get me on my feet.

I had been living on scraps since I found the homestead, burning bits of furniture to boil my water and make tea, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. “Why did my engine fail? Everything was just fine, then I'm smashing into trees...” I thought. I tried to convince myself that someone might know where I had crashed, that they heard my maydays.. But something tells me that my cries for help never left the cabin of that plane. And I knew the weather out here was rough, but something wasn't right. The blizzards rage like an angry mother bear, but then all falls silent and the blue sky sparkles with windswept ice. It all feels so surreal.

Outside, the air was crisp, and clear. I could see for miles and all seemed still, the gold sun growing paler as it rose. I had found a rifle in the house, along with two rounds, now sitting in my chest pocket. I took one out and slipped it into the rifle, and chambered it. And I set off to reclaim my supplies at the barn, and I had high hopes for a deer along the way. It wasn't too cold, but my coat wasn't too warm either, so I set a brisk pace and kept my eyes focused on the landscape around me. The walk was quiet, and I felt liberated to finally see my surroundings. It had been years since I spent any quality time with nature, and she spoke to me in a very real way in that valley. I knew I would make it, for I am part of the land.

The barn grabbed my eye immediately, so vivid and picturesque. “Where did they go?” I thought. It seemed as though they had left months ago, along with everyone else who lived out there. It didn't take long for me to gather what I needed and warm my hands, and I was ready to move on. I decided to make a big loop around the homestead and the farm, to look for any houses or supplies, and hopefully to find some real food.

The amber afternoon sun glazed the valley sooner than I had hoped, I had been wandering for hours, trying to stay near my shelter. I picked up some firewood, and borrowed a few energy bars from a frosty chap near the river. Without any luck with hunting, I ate one of the bars and started heading towards the homestead, knowing I would be hungry yet another night. But then my heart skipped a beat. A deep growl of a massive beast emanated from behind me, the sound clean and clear, carried on iced air. I whipped out my flare to scare off a wolf, and turned to see a black bear the size of a car jaunting up the hill to greet me. I swapped my flare for my rifle and sprinted towards the house. “Will the rifle even kill a bear?” I thought, as I fumbled for the other round, and loaded it.

The house was only thirty meters away now, but I knew I only had a matter of seconds before I was being mauled to death. The bear sounded a battle cry as I turned to him, looking straight down the sights. He lunged for the kill, and I pulled the trigger, with the beast at barrels length.

--Coldwelder

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