• Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

25 Survivor

1 Follower

About thefistoffury1

  • Rank
  • Birthday 08/25/1994

Recent Profile Visitors

The recent visitors block is disabled and is not being shown to other users.

  1. This is the second time I play episode 3 (the first time was when it launched, both runs on Hardened Survivor, the greatest story difficulty). Back then, the timberwolf pack size and morale meter would pop with a string music cue when detected. Now that's not the case, no music or UI elements. My question is, was this changed for hardened survivor to be tougher or is it a potential bug?
  2. Thanks! I always get exhausted and lose creativity if I edit/cut/create any more than a second draft so I always like to stress how rough my amateur writing can be. I think I have one more in me now, perhaps about a certain misanthrope. Not THE misanthrope from Coastal Highway, I wouldn't want to contradict any future story mode characters lol.
  3. You're welcome! I am in no way a great or even good writer but it makes me feel great to see anyone enjoy this little story! The execution was not as great as the concept, but the essential feeling is still displayed. That feeling of being prepared that has made every TLD player cocky at some point, and we have all paid the price Thanks again for your comment!
  4. She was amazed at the beautiful color palette of the morning sky. Yellows, whites and reds against the ever lighter blue sky. Beautiful, she felt, even though most of the red was blood in her eyes. Sally always knew it's best to be prepared for every occation. She took the time to research and buy a high quality satchel and to keep herself well fed to be at top shape.One last check before entering Bleak inlet. Weighing just under 40 kgs (88 pounds) and with the warmest clothing on Great Bear, she checked her kinetic energy powered watch. Two hours before sunrise, time to go. The weather was cold but clear, a pack of 5 timberwolves visibly roaming on the opposite side of the long bridge. Sally had enough tools to fight off ten times that, she thought smugly. A revolver, rifle and distress pistol, over 150 rounds total. Around the midpoint of the bridge, she stopped to look over the left side and to admire how her high-end backpack sealed all scent that might attract wolves to her meat supply. It was an expensive item to buy, make no mistake. For what felt like a few minutes (but actually few seconds) her mind wandered on what the cute salesman sold her on. Combination locked, shock and fire proof, with all sorts of pockets and pouches. A premium compass, LifeStraw, a satellite phone and a multitool pocket knife. The shoulder straps were a bit too thin for the weight, but what the hell. The sun was starting to shine on the floor of the bridge now, all that snow melting -and freezing again- into frictionless patches of ice. It was time to stop admiring her expensive investment, and proceed to tackle the timberwolves. Sally prepared the rifle and revolver, attaching them to the hooks outside the pack, on her left. Half a dozen marine flares, too. She was the alpha, she said to herself. Even in this quiet apocalypse, the wolves weren't going to defeat her ingenuity. She proved herself right as she slipped and fell over the ledge. All the weight, and the uneven placement of the weapons on her left shoulder made it too quick to comprehend. Suspended above a seriously high drop by her backpack, Sally panicked as she looked up. The separation between the first and second half of the railing held her backpack in place. Her own life depending on the shoulder straps, she knew what would happen next, as she weighed more than it did. As the straps snapped from the weight, she wondered what could have happened if she had a lighter load. Did she really need to go full packrat and carry 20 purification tablets or 3 bottles of antiseptic? Nothing can change now. The end of the fall made her eyes go black. They opened up again, all numb and bloody. It was odd, she felt. There was no pain, or at least that was because she couldn't feel her body anymore. Her head was suddenly looking up now. She was amazed at the beautiful color palette of the morning sky. Yellows, whites and reds against the ever lighter blue sky. Beautiful, she felt, even though most of the red was blood in her eyes. The abundant number of water bottles started to shift position in her pack, changing its shape and shifting its center of mass down. Sally chose to close her eyes in that moment. She wasn't dead yet or even feeling sleepy, but she couldn't bear the shame of how she would die. She heard the backpack dislodge from the railing. She worried about the feared timberwolves so much, and they seemed to be ignoring her, almost making fun of her for doing their job for them so clumsily. And the crushing weight? Would she even feel it? What if she did? Would the pain wake her up again, make her open her eyes again? Sally was not a hoarder, but she was always carrying too much. And that sealed her fate. She, like others, faded into the Long Dark.
  5. Oh thanks! I have a few ideas for more stories, and the thought that at least a few people liked the first one really makes me very happy.The next one might have to do with a hoarder who stockpiles everything. I can neither confirm nor deny the hoarder is based on my TLD playstyle lol I appreciate your comments! Thanks a lot!
  6. Thank you so much! I am by no means a good writer, but I wanted to express the concept of this survivor who was never meant to make it, but gets lucky enough to hope. How many survival runs that we started hopefully have been deleted upon permadeath? All the time we invested, gone. And the quiet apocalypse doesn't notice. Even the message never makes it, and this guy's backstory explains no one will search for him. Kinda like your newest run makes you forget your last, because you have no attachment to it Even if there was a game feature to spawn your last survivor's dead body, it would very quickly get enveloped in snow, ravaged by predators, etc. Thanks again for your response!
  7. Fuck me. This isn't how it was supposed to end. When I left home, they said I was crazy. You know what's crazy? Having your whole life, personal and work, on fifteen types of social media, for everyone to see and dissect. Having your entire entertainment be either propaganda garbage or mind-numbing nothingness. And all that in a society where you can barely make ends meet since the Collapse. A few years back, there was hope our technology would not degrade us mentally and psychologically someday. Not only our technology, but also our economy had failed us. The day had come, and I was leaving home. Canada was falling apart, more than the rest of the world. I had family I could visit in the States, but I wanted to get away from people, away from the noise of life. The noise of 7 different smart devices in your home, telling you what to wear, what new hit movie to watch, what your diet is missing. Old school, I said to myself. What's more old-school than the most isolated community in the north? Great Bear. A record-cold winter was soon to arrive, but I saw it as a bonus. No-one would visit me in such harsh weather, so far away from civilization. I settled in a small cabin near the Bear Creek, close to the highway that ran the coastline. Old man who had the gas station rented it for next to nothing. It was beautiful and serene. Every day was a nice trip to the nearest ice fishing hut; the occasional bear would appear, sliding on the ice as it tried to balance itself. Just as funny as Youtube compilations, that's for sure. My generator was acting up, so no electric heater. I would sleep a bit cold that night, just as the weather was about to reach its coldest peak, but didn't even care. I was having the time of my life. I think I had a dream, about the time my family hadn't walked away or died on me. It was like a fairytale. At least, until it all came to a nightmarish end. Noise. Tons of it. My phone rings but noone calls, my electric heater bursts to life, same as my radio. Only static and high pitched feedback, like the screams of a tortured animal that isn't an animal. The lights in my cabin flicker from blinding to darkness, and I struggle to find my flashlight. I never had it fully charged, because my phone had a similar function, and I never needed it with my cabin's interior lighting, anyway. Phone is dead though. Whatever is happening, I can't call anyone for help. The flashlight is in my hands just as the bulbs above me had enough stress. As they burst, I scramble under the table to avoid damage, and can now see out of my window. It looks like an aurora borealis, but it looks wrong. My flashlight comes to life on its own, just as the heater decides to fry. The sparks alone are enough to burn the entire cabin to a cinder, so I grab it and open the door to throw it out. As cold as it is outside, there is no other way. My body says " I told you so" when the coldest wind I have ever felt hits me. The heater is now in the snow, my generator with it. I am freezing and my fancy parka has caught so much snow it's almost useless. Same for everything else in the room.I have to close the door, but the wind is howling ever louder, the snow falling ever quicker, and the only thing I can think of is to board up the door. I have the hammer and a few nails, some loose floor boards will have to do. Now I can tell why I rented this shithole for so little money. They peel off like cheap glue held them in place prior. Works fine for me, as I have to use all my strength to force the door closed. I drop a few nails in my crappy mitts, so I decide to take them off. Yet another part of me is freezing, and I have no fucking clue why this started in the first place. It takes a few minutes to catch my breath, as I stare at the boarded up door. I sit down and lean against the wall, my window just above my head. I can see the lights in the sky, so bright, so beautiful. I feel so cold that I warm up again. My eyes close for an instant. More noise. Scratches at my door. I wait and listen, in case my oncoming hypothermia is making me hear things. Maybe it's someone else who lives nearby, looking for help. Wolves. I can hear them howling, barking, all teeth and nails. They never were aggresive like this. I crawl to the door, just to see through the keyhole. My blood seems to freeze too, just in time for hypothermia. They glow in the night, green like a spectre in classic horror, and their eyes are yellow, sickly and demonic. One runs full speed at the door as I pull my head away. The door shudders, a board almost breaks, and the door itself has a tiny cracked opening, running vertically next to the keyhole. They can see me now, shivering in the corner. The only thing I can use is my flashlight. I have food and water that the snow didn't ruin, but what's the point? I have no weapon, so I scream. Through all the cold and fear, my loudest shriek is nothing to the howling wind. The wolves are now even crazier and about to break through, but they notice, a second earlier than me, that I have pressed the On button on my flashlight. The flashlight that turned on on its own before. The light is blinding, illuminating the room enough for me to see it as bright as day. I know what to do. As the light hits them, the wolves scatter and flee. This is it. I have some firewood outside. I'll open the door with plenty of effort - and difficulty - and I will warm up. The aurora seems to be fading, giving way to the beginnings of a great blizzard. Doesn't matter, there's still hope. There's still - - footsteps? Just outside the cabin? No, not footsteps. Too slow, too many. The crack in the door is enough to see the 600 kilograms of muscle, bone and claws. I recognise the bear, behind the glow of the aurora and it recognises me. It's not a funny Youtube video anymore. It stands on two feet, and the wooden door looks brittle and pathetic as it tries to break through. This isn't an ordinary bear, far closer to a living nightmare than one of nature's greatest animals. I'm so cold and the flashlight begins to die, just like the aurora. No way to scare it off. As the end draws near, I understand my life has been the shittiest game of russian roulette. Instead of one bullet, it's all six. Only difference being, one bullet is faster than the others. This is the fastest bullet. Not long now. As I begin to pray for the first time in my life, a miracle happens. As the lights in the sky die, so does the glow on the bear. It's still angry and twisted; I can see it in its eyes. But it has lost interest. I can see and hear it walking away, as calmly as it approached my cabin. I can't go out now. I have to wait until morning. It seems that everything that uses electricity has died, like a massive, neverending elctromagnetic pulse. I will have to survive in a frozen wilderness without the certainties of the technology I was so frustrated with. Just when I need it the most. I will need to traverse a quiet apocalypse without mercy or aid. If anyone had better luck than me, they're surely running away now. But I will make it. If nothing else, because I didn't deserve this. I'm angry at my fate, and I will change it. I am not so cold since I decided to wear my crappy but dry cotton clothes instead. As soon as the night ends and everything begins to warm up, I will leave this shitty cabin. I will leave this message here for anyone to find, to learn from my mistakes. Just a bit more rest and I will be good to go. ____________________ Your survivor never found this message, slipped by accident between the "shitty floorboards" of the cabin near Bear Creek Campgrounds. The author's trail ends 10 feet outside the door, but the heavy snowfall covered his remains far before you arrived. He is desecrated and forgotten. No one ever looked for his body. He, like others, faded into the Long Dark.
  8. You remember that update that allowed you to pull torches out of fires instead of brands? Not me, at first.
  9. Oh I get your point, yes. And you're right that timberwolf morale is an external value that the player cannot magically know. I also have considered having no timers for light sources, and instead have the light dim over time, which the player could time internally in relation to realtime gameplay. Perhaps a fifth diffuclty mode, someday. There is a huge section of the community who would never play without timers or would quit very soon, so having such a great idea that you had, it would have to be in a separate difficulty. And about the map, oh God yes! Drop me anywhere in the Great Bear world and within seconds I know where I am, and that's just beautiful (I as in all players who have put time in the game lol) I used the map in Story mode at first, but stopped because I started to forget the layout of the map
  10. I went right through that waterfall, thinking..."Man, if I had a *spoiler* this episode would roll so much easier and I DID find just that and I couldn't believe my eyes! I thought for a second I was losing my mind
  11. Timberwolves and the morale mechanic are pretty alright as they are, but I agree the bar should be replaced. It does indeed feel too "gamey" for TLD's more hands-on, immersive and instinct-based mechanics. Of course, let's not get too far with the "realism" and "immersion" (quotes not for sarcasm, but emphasis) because there is no real life thirst or hunger bar, sometimes these vital needs seem not quite urgent and 5 minutes later they prove to be very urgent. TLD has clear vitals meters that fill and deplete, and the morale meter is no more gamey than they are. My point is, the Long Dark should have a more intuitive timberwolf morale meter, but it should be neither too vague nor too uninterpretable by new/casual players. Perhaps Easy has the classic bar and dialogue , Normal has only dialogue cues like @jeffpeng suggested and...Hard has no morale indicator? You have to keep fighting until they're gone or killed, or until you yourself die? And if that's not perplexing enough, what about Survival mode? If they are introduced, interloper will be an express ticket to death
  12. Astrid, for the love of God, stop messing around. I heard Will killed a huge bear with a medieval weapon, and THIS is how you will top that? . . . Sure is funny though
  13. That's very useful information, yes. I found that ruined house and thought I forgot about it since I hate PV lol
  14. You didn't spoil anything major lol. The issue is that (at least in Hard Story Mode, survival is OK) one of the two ropes that leads from the Draft Dodger's Cabin to the basement in Skeeter's Ridge is not placed; you have to place it yourself. If you don't place the rope the only way to get from said cabin (or west of it) to the basement is to all the way around from the east side of the map. Funny thing is, from the Cabin you can walk up a path to the plane crash, which is separated with rocks from SR and the basement. But there are invisible walls on top of the rocks. You are right next to the crashed plane, and you can scale the rocks, but you are frozen in place as you try to walk to the basement nearby and that was infuriating to me, that's all.(in my case I left useful loot from before going into the plane crash through its front door).