theisaactrain

I always felt the game (at least wintermute) takes place in the early 2020’s, where survival takes place in the late 2020’s

It was advertised for part 3 of TFTFT that 60 fps would be implemented into TLD on current and next generation consoles, however the setting to change this is simply not present on my console. I have uninstalled and reinstalled the game, messed with the Xbox’s display setting itself, and still nothing.

When it comes to playing TLD on a controller, to me it has always felt clunky. The deadzones are much too high, and the response curve is too sudden. If there were options to change deadzone, and the response curve of the analog sticks on controllers in TLD I believe that it would make the game much more smooth, and enjoyable on the players end.

Hello, I was very excited to see the addition of 60 fps for next, and current generation consoles. However, the setting is not showing up for me.

There are multiple areas for me... In my longest run before the reset I took shelter in Trappers Cabin, and there and the surrounding area was always so nice and calm despite the occasional blizzards, not to mention little threat from animals. There's also something about Anglers Den in Ash Canyon... Yeah, Ash Canyon is not forgiving, and there are wolves nearby, however the views of the towering canyon, the compact nature of the frozen creek, and the overall emptiness of Ash Canyon makes Anglers Den a very comforting cabin. Finally, there is Lonely Lighthouse in Desolation Point. As with Anglers Den, there are wolves nearby, however that isn't much of a problem in Voyager, or Stalker. I see the lighthouse as a beacon of hope in the empty world of The Long Dark. There is also sentimental value, as that is where I ended my longest run before the reset. I brought all that I had collected, and shot out a hundred rounds of ammo and sent a signal flare into the sky as I faded into the long dark.

For whatever reason this song has always transported me to the land of Great Bear Island, something about the desolate and space like feel.

Might not get much attention on this, but I'd love to hear any stories, theories, easter-eggs, and or lore about The Long Dark you guys have. Whether it be the notes, or minor locations, there always seem to be small stories playing out throughout the world. Little tid bits of information, and I love it. I think to the game Kona, which has a similar setting to TLD, that game plays out through the little notes and scrawling's you find. I'd love to see more notes and stories play out in the game world, and we are getting exactly that though TFTFT.

I think jumping into the river at Black Rock could also be a fun way to end it.

Moving this here from general discussion Hi all, I have been working on this story for the last few weeks, and it is still unfinished, and honestly a little rough around the edges. However, I am going to post what I have right now as a little teaser for what's to come. Any feedback is appreciated, I hope you all enjoy! The Mine My father worked in a gold mine back in the 70's, it was nestled into the mountains, far from the closest settlements. From what I know there was a crew out there every summer for years, and according to my father, they had moved a lot of dirt and rock. Mother would always express her concerns of safety, "Please be safe my dear." she’d say before he’d leave for the season. My father was never around much during the summer because of the mine, he just worked, and worked. He spent weeks at a time there. Not hearing from him made mother worry a lot. Living in the area we did, and it being the 70’s, the only line of communication we had were landline phones. They didn’t reach the area where the mine was. When father was home, he would always appear burnt out, large bags were always under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days. He was also very quiet, and he kept to himself. He looked like he had seen a ghost. One winter, mothers biggest nightmare came true. Father, and the rest of the mining crew didn’t return home on the date they said they would return for the season, October 1st. Days passed, weeks, then months, they never came back. Being as isolated as we were on this secluded Canadian Island, word spread quickly among our small village. Being as it was the winter, it was much too dangerous to try to make the in good weather, days long trek to the mine. Very few even knew how to get there. We did a lot of praying that winter, almost every day it felt like. We held get-togethers in our community hall, sang songs in the church, and came together as the group of people we were. This wasn't enough for me though, the idea of my father still being out there drove me crazy. The emotions bottled up over that winter, I just needed to know what happened to him. I needed some sort of closure. One February night, I believe the 12th, I had had enough, the bottle exploded. I was going to get to that mine, even if it killed me. I remember that morning vividly. Tucked away in my fathers little shop room, I had found the spare map, of which he had drawn himself. It gave rough directions on how to get the mine. This map was crucial to me, as it marked out key locations, and areas to avoid. Not knowing the terrain was going to be my biggest challenge. With the map, I also packed four days worth of general supplies, first aid, and more importantly my revolver. The wildlife that time of year was nothing to scoff at, the wolves were hungry that time of year. Finally, I glanced over at my mothers room. I felt bad for leaving without saying goodbye, but I knew she would have convinced me to not go. I remember writing her a note, apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye, saying I’d be back within 5 days. I made sure to include an I love you. Being filled with adrenaline, I exited my house and started my truck. It sputtered to life, and I drove carefully to the outskirts of the village, where I was met with a climbing rope. A chill was sent down my spine when I saw vehicles that belonged to the other members of the mining crew. I exited my truck, and gathered my supplies from the bed of it. There was no turning back now. The rest of my trip would be on foot. Oh, being young and dumb. Mid February, it must have been -25 C out, the full force of winter screaming at my face. I scampered up the climbing rope with ease. I had made that climb before. The area the climbing took me to was familiar to me. I knew the terrain well, as I had been up to this area countless times, whether it was hunting, or climbing the large mountain that dominated the surrounding area. It had no name, but resembling the figure of a wolf, the locals called it Timberwolf Mountain. The map took me down into a ravine that I was unfamiliar with, I was deep into the bush now, and I had been walking for the majority of the day. I was starting to feel the cold, as I felt the feeling of my hands slip away. The map led me into a ravine I was unfamiliar with. Carved out by a frozen over river that sat in the middle, the ravine was large, at least 80 feet of rock wall surrounded me on each side. Eventually I came upon a small crevasse between two large boulders. I remember thinking to myself the hassle of getting to this damn mine, what could be there that's worth this trek? Then, I had also thought to myself the overall mystique of the mine itself. All these years, and nobody except for the crew had even been to the mine. Whenever mother would ask if all of us could go to the mine for the summer, father would always say no. He would come up with some excuse, whether that be lack of resources to sustain a family, or a “problem bear”. During that time, it felt like the majority of people outside of our community didn’t know about the mine. The idea of the mine began to pique my curiosity. It was a tight squeeze through the crevasse, but I managed to make it through. Soon, the ravine had faded away, and opened into a clearing. The quick nature of my departure earlier in the day was starting to bite me in the ass. I no longer could feel my hands, and soon I would lose feeling in my feet too. I glanced into the sky and saw the sun, setting below the horizon. Night was coming soon. I stumbled down a small hill, and was met with a vast frozen over swamp, peppered by scatters of trees. The trees had been burned, from the top down. Left, was a flat baron landscape with stubby trees, covered in ash. The map named this region “Ash Canyon'', it was fitting. I could have sat there and stared at this Ash Canyon for ages, but there was no time for that. If I didn’t find shelter, I would become hypothermic, and there would be no way for me to warm up. The map showed that there were three man made structures in the area, a large cabin set on the top of a cliff overlooking the region, which I was able to see from where I was standing. A fishing hut placed deep on the far side of the region, and another cabin, set directly in the center of the swamp. The map named it "The Intrusive Mans Retreat", which made me chuckle. Intrusive man, what a weird name. I made my way to the base of the cliff where the large cabin sat. I quickly found out that there was no way in sight to make my way up to the large cabin, so my only option was to find the “The Intrusive Men's Retreat”. I wandered in the general direction of it, eventually spotting it in the distance. Once I arrived, I could see that the cabin had been beaten and battered by the elements. There was no sign of anyone being home since the start of winter. At the time, I ignored that, being relieved with the idea of warmth. I approached the cabin, and was surprised to see that the door was wide open, snow was built up on the inside. Nonetheless, I let myself in, and started a fire inside the cabin's small cook stove. The inside of the cabin was small, just one large room. It was a mess, there sat an old torn bed, it was small, twin sized. There was also a bookshelf which had been pushed over, a cook stove which was my means of sight, and heaps of trash all over the floor. The cabin had a strong smell of routine flesh inside, perhaps an animal scampered in the walls and died recently. With the door being left wide open, anything could have wandered in and messed the place up. What caught my attention was a stack of notes, scraps of paper, and maps, which were tacked down to the bookshelf. I tipped the bed back onto its four legs, and sat on the edge, taking some time to read the contents of these papers under the light of the fire. They started off simple, recipes, fishing and hunting techniques, travel routes to get back to civilization, you know, the basic survival stuff. It would be needed in an area like this. As I kept reading, things started to get more cryptic. There was a map with red dots scattered around, signifying points of interest, they were all placed in what seemed to be random locations. Then, there was a note which shook me up, “Those men who claim they’re mining, I’m onto them. The sounds I hear at night, those groans and screams coming from the hills, it has to be something else. It’s as if they’ve opened hell's gate. I don’t know what's going on exactly, but I know for a fact it’s not mining.”, I took a double take, and reread it. The note conveyed an angry tone, and was dated July 23rd, 1972, which was over two years prior. Behind it the stack was another note, “Those bastards, lurking around my cabin at night, they’re trying to drive me away, they want me to leave. They even set the cabin on fire.” I remember the image of glancing up to the roof, and seeing the very obvious section that had been repaired. The note continued,“I’m sick of the noises late at night, I’m sick of being in fear. I’m going to go to that mine, I’m going to kill that beast they’re hiding from the world, I don’t care that they’re onto me.”, this note was dated September 18th, 1974. Chills ran down my spine, that would have been around the time father and the crew were beginning to prepare to leave. I just sat there on that bed, taking in the contents of those two notes. I didn’t know how to feel. The notes left many questions unanswered. Had the person that lived in this cabin been the reason for the disappearance of my father and the crew? What did they mean “beast”? I got an unclear answer. There was one last piece of paper, which had been scribbled on in dull and messy handwriting. I held it close to my face, “I think those men are at mutiny, I thought I could put an end to all this but this is something bigger than I can handle. We need the damn Canadian Army in here. It’s not safe here anymore, I am leaving this place. I can’t explain what I saw over there, all I know is I'm deeply terrified.”,the note appeared to have been written in a hurry, and it conveyed a feeling of dread. It was dated October 1st, 1974. A final chill sent down my spine, that was the day father was supposed to return. This confirmed to me at the time that my father was still at the mine the day he was supposed to return, but what had happened to him since? What had scared the owner of this cabin so bad that he left? “Beast” had popped into my head. The previous notes mentioned a beast, hidden away from the world. At the time that was the only real explanation I had. I only had these three little snapshots into the whole situation. That last note did not give me a good feeling, it was very obvious to me something was up at the mine. A mystery was starting to form. I just knew I needed to get out to that mine, I needed to see what was up. In a weird way, the notes did give me a sense of hope. At the time, I disregarded all the obvious warnings that the intrepid person before me left behind. I cared more about closure than my own well being. I set my sleeping bag onto the old bed, and cozied up. During the time I spent looking at the notes and papers, a storm had rolled in. The winds howled, making its own unique whistle against the old cabin. I wasn’t able to shake the idea of this beast, what did it mean? I thought to myself, maybe beast was a code word for something else, or maybe there was some beastly being roaming this valley. I frowned at that idea. Sure I loved a good bigfoot, or ghost story, but those were just stories, right? I psyched myself out that night. Through the one small window of the cabin, I would have swore something was watching me. I convinced myself that the flexing and groans that the old wood of the cabin made was something pressing up against the walls. I freaked myself out, to the point where I was not able to fall asleep until the storm started to die down. I think I only ended up getting three hours of sleep that night. When I awoke, the storm had ended. In its place was a thick fog that coated the landscape. My fire had lasted the night, and with just the hot coals left, I was able to warm up tea, and some canned food I had packed. The tea eased my mind, and I was able to come back to reality. I needed to get to that mine, get the closure I was looking for. I ventured out of The Intrusive Mans Retreat, now knowing why they called him that. I made sure to keep my hand close to my revolver, I was still shaken up by those notes from the night prior. With the map pointing me in the general direction of the mine, I said goodbye to the dainty cabin, making sure the door was closed for the next traveler. The landscape was barren, and I kept a slow pace towards the general direction of where the map wanted me to go. As I trudged on further, I started to sense that I was being watched. I paused, and listened. I heard it, faint footsteps behind me, something on four legs. I drew my revolver, a .44 caliper, enough to take down a bear. I heard something snarling. I knew the sounds of the animals on the island, I immediately knew it was a wolf. From the fog emerged a wolf, like I had expected. It bored its teeth at me. I put my arms and legs out, and started yelling at it, slowly backing away at the same time. The wolf grunted at me, but seemed to be scared by my gesture as intended. I made a quick decision, a stupid one a that. I thought I was in the clear, so I turned my back to the wolf. Big mistake, once I turned my back to the wolf, it charged at me. The second I heard it charging I looked behind and tried to draw my revolver, but the wolf was too fast, it pounced on me. It knocked my revolver out of my hand. I hit the ground hard, and the wolf attempted to bite down on my face, its claws digging into my chest and ripping my coat. Even with the wind knocked out of me, I used all my strength to kick it off. Through fully just willpower, I kicked it off. It landed on the ground, stunned. I dashed towards my revolver, but tripped in the process. I landed inches away from it, and the second I inched towards it an immense force hit me on my back. The wolf had jumped onto me. Dodging its jaws, I was able to finally retrieve my pistol. As I grabbed the gun, the wolf finally was able to bite me, right on my shoulder. I tensed up, squeezing my finger onto the trigger in the process, sending a shot into the air. The wolf yelps, being scared of the loud shot, and jumps off me. I was able to get to my feet, and face the wolf, who was now running in the opposite direction of me. I winced in pain, the wolf had destroyed my coat, and I could feel the blood oozing from my shoulder. Idiot I breathed to myself, angry at the dumb mistake I had made that led to this. Quickly I retrieved the antiseptic I had in my pack, quickly taking off my four layers to expose the wound on my shoulder. The cold air stung against my skin, but I needed to pour the antiseptic over the wound. I closed my eyes as it hit the wound, a stinging pain followed. I looked down to my stomach, where I saw two puncture wounds from the wolves claws. I was very lucky they had not punctured my vitals. I rubbed antiseptic over the wounds on my stomach, and thoroughly bandaged both areas the best I could. The wounds didn’t feel good, they put me in a lot of discomfort. Once I regained my bearings, and put my clothes back on, I was able to continue on. The attack left me low on energy, so I ended up downing a large portion of my food. I continued walking, the fog starting to fade. I finally fully regained my surroundings, and was glad to find out I was only slightly off track of where I was supposed to be going. I pointed myself in the right direction, and within the next hour, I had made it to the next obstacle. The final push to make it to the mine was two large rope climbs. With my wounds, it was going to be painful, but I knew I had to do it. I was determined to make it to that mine. I grabbed the rope, and glanced up at the 50 foot climb ahead of me. If it were just a single 50 foot climb, I would have been okay, the problem being of course there were two 50 foot climbs. I had been mountaineering my whole life, and I had done much larger climbs, however with the radiating pain in my shoulder and stomach, I knew this was risky. Suddenly, a rotten smell filled the air, the smell of death. It smelled the exact same as the cabin. I gagged, and looked around, expecting to see the corpse of an animal, or something along those lines. I couldn’t see anything, so now filled with the desire to escape the smell I started the climb up the icey rope. As I went up I realized how quiet things were, throughout the day I heard birds, wind, the sounds of nature. At that moment, it was completely silent though. I made it halfway up the climb with relative ease, but the smell just kept getting worse. Suddenly, I noticed a faint sound from below me, it sounded like the cracking of bones. I freaked out, as the rope started to shake. Something was trying to literally shake me off the rope. I slipped down the rope a few feet. Once I regained my grip, I looked below and screamed. Below me stood the most horrible thing I had ever seen. Its red beady eyes stared up at me. It began violently shaking the rope, and one of my hands lost grip of the rope. A stab of pain came from my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth in pain. With my now free hand I was able to quickly grab the knife hollister at my waist. I quickly started to cut at the rope in sheer panic. The thing below me started to climb up the rope, it’s muscular build making quick work of the rope, closing the distance on me in seconds. Its mouth foamed, and with every move it made a disgusting cracking sound followed, as if its bones were breaking. My knife was just about to cut through the rope when it finally made it to me, it reached out its hand to grab me. With whatever strength I had left, I kicked it in the face, stopping it in its tracks for a second. I yelled in terror, the rope finally cutting in half. The creature fell 20 feet at least, making a loud thud when it hit the ground. Filled with adrenaline and fear, I heaved my way up the rest of the rope, my whole body trembling the way up. I reached the top of the climb, and quickly looked back down to see that that thing was gone, leaving only an impact spot in the snow where it had hit the ground. I thought to myself, what in god's name was that. I just stood there at the top of the climb, frozen in fear. I could feel my heartbeat in my neck, and forehead. That thing was nothing I had ever seen in my life, it was something unknown to science. I was mortified by how fast it was able to climb up the rope, climbing what took me multiple minutes, only a few seconds, and its claws. Its claws had to have been at least six inches long. They looked like daggers. It had the build of a man, but had the features of a wild animal. I remember its muscles, they were huge. Without a doubt enough to crush anything in its path. Its teeth were sharp, and long. The thing had the horns of an elk. I wasn’t able to get the image of its face out of my head. The grin it had on its face, it looked like it knew it was terrifying me. It had red eyes, eyes of pure evil. It was a creature that looked designed to be a killing machine, it was a monster. It was the beast, the beast I had heard about last night. The beast that chased the intrusive man away, the reason for my fathers disappearance.

I do I agree that I rely a lot on the games logic to make up for my overall shortcomings when it comes to writing. I am learning a lot as to what works and doesn’t, but I really appreciate your feedback. I also am moving this to fan creations, so if admin would like to close the post that is alright.

Hi all, I have been working on this story for the last few weeks, and it is still unfinished, and honestly a little rough around the edges. However, I am going to post what I have right now as a little teaser for what's to come. Any feedback is appreciated, I hope you all enjoy! The Mine My father worked in a gold mine back in the 70's, it was nestled into the mountains, far from the closest settlements. From what I know there was a crew out there every summer for years, and according to my father, they had moved a lot of dirt and rock. Mother would always express her concerns of safety, "Please be safe my dear." she’d say before he’d leave for the season. My father was never around much during the summer because of the mine, he just worked, and worked. He spent weeks at a time there. Not hearing from him made mother worry a lot. Living in the area we did, and it being the 70’s, the only line of communication we had were landline phones. They didn’t reach the area where the mine was. When father was home, he would always appear burnt out, large bags were always under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days. He was also very quiet, and he kept to himself. He looked like he had seen a ghost. One winter, mothers biggest nightmare came true. Father, and the rest of the mining crew didn’t return home on the date they said they would return for the season, October 1st. Days passed, weeks, then months, they never came back. Being as isolated as we were on this secluded Canadian Island, word spread quickly among our small village. Being as it was the winter, it was much too dangerous to try to make the in good weather, days long trek to the mine. Very few even knew how to get there. We did a lot of praying that winter, almost every day it felt like. We held get-togethers in our community hall, sang songs in the church, and came together as the group of people we were. This wasn't enough for me though, the idea of my father still being out there drove me crazy. The emotions bottled up over that winter, I just needed to know what happened to him. I needed some sort of closure. One February night, I believe the 12th, I had had enough, the bottle exploded. I was going to get to that mine, even if it killed me. I remember that morning vividly. Tucked away in my fathers little shop room, I had found the spare map, of which he had drawn himself. It gave rough directions on how to get the mine. This map was crucial to me, as it marked out key locations, and areas to avoid. Not knowing the terrain was going to be my biggest challenge. With the map, I also packed four days worth of general supplies, first aid, and more importantly my revolver. The wildlife that time of year was nothing to scoff at, the wolves were hungry that time of year. Finally, I glanced over at my mothers room. I felt bad for leaving without saying goodbye, but I knew she would have convinced me to not go. I remember writing her a note, apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye, saying I’d be back within 5 days. I made sure to include an I love you. Being filled with adrenaline, I exited my house and started my truck. It sputtered to life, and I drove carefully to the outskirts of the village, where I was met with a climbing rope. A chill was sent down my spine when I saw vehicles that belonged to the other members of the mining crew. I exited my truck, and gathered my supplies from the bed of it. There was no turning back now. The rest of my trip would be on foot. Oh, being young and dumb. Mid February, it must have been -25 C out, the full force of winter screaming at my face. I scampered up the climbing rope with ease. I had made that climb before. The area the climbing took me to was familiar to me. I knew the terrain well, as I had been up to this area countless times, whether it was hunting, or climbing the large mountain that dominated the surrounding area. It had no name, but resembling the figure of a wolf, the locals called it Timberwolf Mountain. The map took me down into a ravine that I was unfamiliar with, I was deep into the bush now, and I had been walking for the majority of the day. I was starting to feel the cold, as I felt the feeling of my hands slip away. The map led me into a ravine I was unfamiliar with. Carved out by a frozen over river that sat in the middle, the ravine was large, at least 80 feet of rock wall surrounded me on each side. Eventually I came upon a small crevasse between two large boulders. I remember thinking to myself the hassle of getting to this damn mine, what could be there that's worth this trek? Then, I had also thought to myself the overall mystique of the mine itself. All these years, and nobody except for the crew had even been to the mine. Whenever mother would ask if all of us could go to the mine for the summer, father would always say no. He would come up with some excuse, whether that be lack of resources to sustain a family, or a “problem bear”. During that time, it felt like the majority of people outside of our community didn’t know about the mine. The idea of the mine began to pique my curiosity. It was a tight squeeze through the crevasse, but I managed to make it through. Soon, the ravine had faded away, and opened into a clearing. The quick nature of my departure earlier in the day was starting to bite me in the ass. I no longer could feel my hands, and soon I would lose feeling in my feet too. I glanced into the sky and saw the sun, setting below the horizon. Night was coming soon. I stumbled down a small hill, and was met with a vast frozen over swamp, peppered by scatters of trees. The trees had been burned, from the top down. Left, was a flat baron landscape with stubby trees, covered in ash. The map named this region “Ash Canyon'', it was fitting. I could have sat there and stared at this Ash Canyon for ages, but there was no time for that. If I didn’t find shelter, I would become hypothermic, and there would be no way for me to warm up. The map showed that there were three man made structures in the area, a large cabin set on the top of a cliff overlooking the region, which I was able to see from where I was standing. A fishing hut placed deep on the far side of the region, and another cabin, set directly in the center of the swamp. The map named it "The Intrusive Mans Retreat", which made me chuckle. Intrusive man, what a weird name. I made my way to the base of the cliff where the large cabin sat. I quickly found out that there was no way in sight to make my way up to the large cabin, so my only option was to find the “The Intrusive Men's Retreat”. I wandered in the general direction of it, eventually spotting it in the distance. Once I arrived, I could see that the cabin had been beaten and battered by the elements. There was no sign of anyone being home since the start of winter. At the time, I ignored that, being relieved with the idea of warmth. I approached the cabin, and was surprised to see that the door was wide open, snow was built up on the inside. Nonetheless, I let myself in, and started a fire inside the cabin's small cook stove. The inside of the cabin was small, just one large room. It was a mess, there sat an old torn bed, it was small, twin sized. There was also a bookshelf which had been pushed over, a cook stove which was my means of sight, and heaps of trash all over the floor. The cabin had a strong smell of routine flesh inside, perhaps an animal scampered in the walls and died recently. With the door being left wide open, anything could have wandered in and messed the place up. What caught my attention was a stack of notes, scraps of paper, and maps, which were tacked down to the bookshelf. I tipped the bed back onto its four legs, and sat on the edge, taking some time to read the contents of these papers under the light of the fire. They started off simple, recipes, fishing and hunting techniques, travel routes to get back to civilization, you know, the basic survival stuff. It would be needed in an area like this. As I kept reading, things started to get more cryptic. There was a map with red dots scattered around, signifying points of interest, they were all placed in what seemed to be random locations. Then, there was a note which shook me up, “Those men who claim they’re mining, I’m onto them. The sounds I hear at night, those groans and screams coming from the hills, it has to be something else. It’s as if they’ve opened hell's gate. I don’t know what's going on exactly, but I know for a fact it’s not mining.”, I took a double take, and reread it. The note conveyed an angry tone, and was dated July 23rd, 1972, which was over two years prior. Behind it the stack was another note, “Those bastards, lurking around my cabin at night, they’re trying to drive me away, they want me to leave. They even set the cabin on fire.” I remember the image of glancing up to the roof, and seeing the very obvious section that had been repaired. The note continued, “I’m sick of the noises late at night, I’m sick of being in fear. I’m going to go to that mine, I’m going to kill that beast they’re hiding from the world, I don’t care that they’re onto me.”, this note was dated September 18th, 1974. Chills ran down my spine, that would have been around the time father and the crew were beginning to prepare to leave. I just sat there on that bed, taking in the contents of those two notes. I didn’t know how to feel. The notes left many questions unanswered. Had the person that lived in this cabin been the reason for the disappearance of my father and the crew? What did they mean “beast”? I got an unclear answer. There was one last piece of paper, which had been scribbled on in dull and messy handwriting. I held it close to my face, “I think those men are at mutiny, I thought I could put an end to all this but this is something bigger than I can handle. We need the damn Canadian Army in here. It’s not safe here anymore, I am leaving this place. I can’t explain what I saw over there, all I know is I'm deeply terrified.”, the note appeared to have been written in a hurry, and it conveyed a feeling of dread. It was dated October 1st, 1974. A final chill sent down my spine, that was the day father was supposed to return. This confirmed to me at the time that my father was still at the mine the day he was supposed to return, but what had happened to him since? What had scared the owner of this cabin so bad that he left? “Beast” had popped into my head. The previous notes mentioned a beast, hidden away from the world. At the time that was the only real explanation I had. I only had these three little snapshots into the whole situation. That last note did not give me a good feeling, it was very obvious to me something was up at the mine. A mystery was starting to form. I just knew I needed to get out to that mine, I needed to see what was up. In a weird way, the notes did give me a sense of hope. At the time, I disregarded all the obvious warnings that the intrepid person before me left behind. I cared more about closure than my own well being. I set my sleeping bag onto the old bed, and cozied up. During the time I spent looking at the notes and papers, a storm had rolled in. The winds howled, making its own unique whistle against the old cabin. I wasn’t able to shake the idea of this beast, what did it mean? I thought to myself, maybe beast was a code word for something else, or maybe there was some beastly being roaming this valley. I frowned at that idea. Sure I loved a good bigfoot, or ghost story, but those were just stories, right? I psyched myself out that night. Through the one small window of the cabin, I would have swore something was watching me. I convinced myself that the flexing and groans that the old wood of the cabin made was something pressing up against the walls. I freaked myself out, to the point where I was not able to fall asleep until the storm started to die down. I think I only ended up getting three hours of sleep that night. When I awoke, the storm had ended. In its place was a thick fog that coated the landscape. My fire had lasted the night, and with just the hot coals left, I was able to warm up tea, and some canned food I had packed. The tea eased my mind, and I was able to come back to reality. I needed to get to that mine, get the closure I was looking for. I ventured out of The Intrusive Mans Retreat, now knowing why they called him that. I made sure to keep my hand close to my revolver, I was still shaken up by those notes from the night prior. With the map pointing me in the general direction of the mine, I said goodbye to the dainty cabin, making sure the door was closed for the next traveler. The landscape was barren, and I kept a slow pace towards the general direction of where the map wanted me to go. As I trudged on further, I started to sense that I was being watched. I paused, and listened. I heard it, faint footsteps behind me, something on four legs. I drew my revolver, a .44 caliper, enough to take down a bear. I heard something snarling. I knew the sounds of the animals on the island, I immediately knew it was a wolf. From the fog emerged a wolf, like I had expected. It bored its teeth at me. I put my arms and legs out, and started yelling at it, slowly backing away at the same time. The wolf grunted at me, but seemed to be scared by my gesture as intended. I made a quick decision, a stupid one a that. I thought I was in the clear, so I turned my back to the wolf. Big mistake, once I turned my back to the wolf, it charged at me. The second I heard it charging I looked behind and tried to draw my revolver, but the wolf was too fast, it pounced on me. It knocked my revolver out of my hand. I hit the ground hard, and the wolf attempted to bite down on my face, its claws digging into my chest and ripping my coat. Even with the wind knocked out of me, I used all my strength to kick it off. Through fully just willpower, I kicked it off. It landed on the ground, stunned. I dashed towards my revolver, but tripped in the process. I landed inches away from it, and the second I inched towards it an immense force hit me on my back. The wolf had jumped onto me. Dodging its jaws, I was able to finally retrieve my pistol. As I grabbed the gun, the wolf finally was able to bite me, right on my shoulder. I tensed up, squeezing my finger onto the trigger in the process, sending a shot into the air. The wolf yelps, being scared of the loud shot, and jumps off me. I was able to get to my feet, and face the wolf, who was now running in the opposite direction of me. I winced in pain, the wolf had destroyed my coat, and I could feel the blood oozing from my shoulder. Idiot I breathed to myself, angry at the dumb mistake I had made that led to this. Quickly I retrieved the antiseptic I had in my pack, quickly taking off my four layers to expose the wound on my shoulder. The cold air stung against my skin, but I needed to pour the antiseptic over the wound. I closed my eyes as it hit the wound, a stinging pain followed. I looked down to my stomach, where I saw two puncture wounds from the wolves claws. I was very lucky they had not punctured my vitals. I rubbed antiseptic over the wounds on my stomach, and thoroughly bandaged both areas the best I could. The wounds didn’t feel good, they put me in a lot of discomfort. Once I regained my bearings, and put my clothes back on, I was able to continue on. The attack left me low on energy, so I ended up downing a large portion of my food. I continued walking, the fog starting to fade. I finally fully regained my surroundings, and was glad to find out I was only slightly off track of where I was supposed to be going. I pointed myself in the right direction, and within the next hour, I had made it to the next obstacle. The final push to make it to the mine was two large rope climbs. With my wounds, it was going to be painful, but I knew I had to do it. I was determined to make it to that mine. I grabbed the rope, and glanced up at the 50 foot climb ahead of me. If it were just a single 50 foot climb, I would have been okay, the problem being of course there were two 50 foot climbs. I had been mountaineering my whole life, and I had done much larger climbs, however with the radiating pain in my shoulder and stomach, I knew this was risky. Suddenly, a rotten smell filled the air, the smell of death. It smelled the exact same as the cabin. I gagged, and looked around, expecting to see the corpse of an animal, or something along those lines. I couldn’t see anything, so now filled with the desire to escape the smell I started the climb up the icey rope. As I went up I realized how quiet things were, throughout the day I heard birds, wind, the sounds of nature. At that moment, it was completely silent though. I made it halfway up the climb with relative ease, but the smell just kept getting worse. Suddenly, I noticed a faint sound from below me, it sounded like the cracking of bones. I freaked out, as the rope started to shake. Something was trying to literally shake me off the rope. I slipped down the rope a few feet. Once I regained my grip, I looked below and screamed. Below me stood the most horrible thing I had ever seen. Its red beady eyes stared up at me. It began violently shaking the rope, and one of my hands lost grip of the rope. A stab of pain came from my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth in pain. With my now free hand I was able to quickly grab the knife hollister at my waist. I quickly started to cut at the rope in sheer panic. The thing below me started to climb up the rope, it’s muscular build making quick work of the rope, closing the distance on me in seconds. Its mouth foamed, and with every move it made a disgusting cracking sound followed, as if its bones were breaking. My knife was just about to cut through the rope when it finally made it to me, it reached out its hand to grab me. With whatever strength I had left, I kicked it in the face, stopping it in its tracks for a second. I yelled in terror, the rope finally cutting in half. The creature fell 20 feet at least, making a loud thud when it hit the ground. Filled with adrenaline and fear, I heaved my way up the rest of the rope, my whole body trembling the way up. I reached the top of the climb, and quickly looked back down to see that that thing was gone, leaving only an impact spot in the snow where it had hit the ground. I thought to myself, what in god's name was that. I just stood there at the top of the climb, frozen in fear. I could feel my heartbeat in my neck, and forehead. That thing was nothing I had ever seen in my life, it was something unknown to science. I was mortified by how fast it was able to climb up the rope, climbing what took me multiple minutes, only a few seconds, and its claws. Its claws had to have been at least six inches long. They looked like daggers. It had the build of a man, but had the features of a wild animal. I remember its muscles, they were huge. Without a doubt enough to crush anything in its path. Its teeth were sharp, and long. The thing had the horns of an elk. I wasn’t able to get the image of its face out of my head. The grin it had on its face, it looked like it knew it was terrifying me. It had red eyes, eyes of pure evil. It was a creature that looked designed to be a killing machine, it was a monster. It was the beast, the beast I had heard about last night. The beast that chased the intrusive man away, the reason for my fathers disappearance.

Hello everyone, this is a little sneak peak/rough draft to a short horror story that I am writing that loosely takes place in the universe of The Long Dark, the story focuses on our unnamed main character who lives in Thompson's Crossing with his mother and father, hope you enjoy. Feedback/constructive criticism is greatly appreciated There is no name for the story yet. My dad worked in a gold mine back in the 70's, it was nestled into the mountains, far from most civilization. From what I know there was a crew out there every summer for years, and they just kept going deeper, and deeper. Mother would always express her concerns, "Please be safe my dear." she'd say. My dad was never around much during the summer, as he just worked, and worked at the mine. Not hearing from him made mother worry even more. All he could think about was that damn mine. When he was home, he would speak of "Unimaginable riches" and he would say that they were inches from hitting the motherload. They never did hit the motherload though. One winter, father never returned home, none of the crew from that mine returned. Being as isolated as we were, word spread quickly among our small population. Being as it was the winter, it was much too dangerous to try to make the days trek to the mine. We prayed, almost every day it felt like. We held meetings in our community hall, sang songs in the church, came together as the group of people we were. This wasn't enough for me, I needed to get to that mine, I needed some sort of closure. One February night, I had had enough. In the early hours of the morning I slipped out the house, dead set on making it to that mine. I grabbed a spare map, of which my dad had marked with the route to the mine, and more importantly my revolver. Filled with passion, and adrenaline, I started my truck, and made the drive out to the climbing rope that would lead me to my fathers last known location. A chill sent down my spine as I saw the vehicles that belonged to the other members of the mining crew. I exit my truck, and gather my supplies from the bed. No turning back now. The rest of my trip would be on foot. Oh, being young and dumb. Early February, it must have been -25 C out. I scampered up the climbing rope, and followed the directions to the mine. The first half of the trek was familiar to me. I knew the terrain well as I had been up here countless times, whether that be hunting, or climbing the large mountain that dominated the surrounding area. The map took me down into a ravine, and then through a small crevasse between two large boulders. At that moment, I had wondered to myself how the mining crew was even able to make it to the mine and back safely every year. Then, I had also thought to myself the overall mystique of the mine itself. All these years, and nobody except for the crew had even been to the mine, hell, some of the people I had talked to didn't even know it existed. This filled me with intrigue. After I had passed the crevasse, the stupidity of my actions were starting to bite me in the ass. I was cold, and it was only going to get colder, night would fall soon. I stumbled down a small hill, and was met by what the map labeled as "Ash Canyon" it was quickly noted in my head why this area was called that. The trees, while sparse, were all burned from the top down, leaving what looked like black spikes peppering the frozen over marsh that appeared to span forever. I couldn't look in awe forever though, my priorities sunk in, shelter. The map that father had left behind had key locations marked, there were two decrepit looking cabins set on top a cliff face, however I did not have the time to attempt to find a way up there. I focused my attention to another cabin, which sat dead center in the swamp. The map named it "The Intrusive Mans Retreat", which made me chuckle. After doing some searching, I discovered this retreat. The cabin looked beaten, and battered by the elements, no signs of anyone staying within the last year at least. I let myself in, and started a fire. The inside of the cabin was a mess, there sat an old torn bed, a bookshelf which had been pushed over, a stove, and heaps of trash all over the floor. What caught my attention was a plethora of notes, scraps of paper, and maps, which were laid out over the bed. I sat on edge of the bed and took some time to read the contents of these papers under the light of the fire. They started off simple, recipes, fishing and hunting techniques, travel routes to get back to civilization, you know, the basic survival stuff. It would be needed in an area like this. Things started to get more cryptic, however. There was a map with red dots scattered around, signifying points of interest. Then, there was a note which shook me up, it read “Those men who claim they’re mining, I’m onto them. The sounds I hear at night, those groans and screams, it has to be something else. It’s as if they’ve opened hells gate. I don’t know what's going on exactly, but I know for a fact it’s not mining.”, the note was dated September, 1972, which was two years prior. There was another note, “Those bastards, lurking around my cabin at night, they’re trying to drive me away, they want me to leave. They know I’m onto them. I don’t know what lies they have been feeding their families, but I’ve seen what they’re doing, I’ve seen it.”, which was dated almost exactly a year after the last note. I just sat there, taking in the contents of those two notes, what did it mean they aren’t mining, what did the previous inhabitant see? The notes left many questions unanswered, but that's when I discovered one last note, written in dull ink and messy handwriting it just said “God help us all, the Ash Man has awo-”, the writing quickly ended. I cringed, Ash Man? What even was an Ash Man? What did all of this mean? Little had I known, I had just unlocked a whole new layer to the disappearance of my father, and the rest of the crew working at the mine. The weather outside started to pick up, I could hear the wind hitting the old cabin. It was pitch black out by now, so I decided to lay down on the old torn bed, and fall asleep. However, falling asleep wasn’t so easy, I had the thoughts all the notes I had read in my mind. Suddenly, the whooshes of the wind turned into the sound of this so called Ash Man prowling around the cabin in my head. Ash Man, the idea of the Ash Man wouldn’t leave my head. Eventually I calmed down enough to get some rest, much less than I wish I would have however. When I awoke the storm had died down, but my fire had held through the night. With just the hot coals left, I was able to warm up tea, and some canned food I had packed. The tea eased my mind, and I was able to come back to reality. Get to the mine. I ventured out of The Intrusive Mans Retreat, now with the knowledge of why they called him the intrusive man. A deep fog lined the landscape, I kept my hand close to my revolver. I justified it due to the fact I had spotted some wolves the day before, but really I still had my mind on this so called Ash Man. The map pointed me in the direction of the mine, but you could only see the large cliff sides, and mountains which surrounded me inside of this Ash Canyon. Besides the Intrusive Mans Retreat, the landscape was baron. There were some caves scattered around, but I didn’t bother looking. Within a few hours of trudging through the cold, I had made it to two separate rope climbs, which would take me up the sides of this cliff, and to the mine. At the base of the climb, there were the remnants of a burned out campfire, it looked like it had been left there for at least a month. It was a beam of hope, maybe my father was still out here and well. I made the climb, and reached a shelf on the cliff, the next climb was few hundred yard away. As I was walking towards the next climb I spotted a patch of black in the snow, as I approached it I saw it was a coat. I brushed the snow away, and jumped back in horror, it was a body, face down in the ground, frozen. I turned the body over, and looked the corpse in the eyes. I knew this man, he was a friend of my dads. Tears started to form at my eyes, but then I glanced down towards the mans chest and froze. Even though ice was built up around his body you could as clear as day make out a giant claw mark on the mans chest. This was no average claw mark, it had to of been at least 3 inches deep into his chest, you could his insides, and each laceration was at least 3 inches apart. It stretched across his whole torso, the man had been savagely ripped open. I looked away and threw up. No animal in this area could have done this. I paused, and contemplated what I was going to do. I was scared to continue, what if I was met with what did this to this man, was it really worth it? I had came all this way for closure, there was no way I could turn back. Suddenly, something else coaxed my decision. From the swamp below me came a bellow I will never forget. The whole valley shook, crows took to the sky, snow fell from the cliffs. I could feel it in my core, it rattled me. It was this deep, gurgly bugle, that just seemed to condemn the whole area. The closet thing I could relate it to is the horn of a commercial oil tanker. It sounded mean, it sounded like it was out to get me. I stood so still, glancing down the cliff I had just climbed. It was hard to see very far, the fog from that morning still not subsiding. I started to hear heavy breathing, it was so loud, it was coming from the lungs of something big. Out from the fog stepped the most belligerent being I had ever seen, the Ash Man.

I have never received a TLD inspired gift, but I'll tell you now. I always ask for MRE's, those things are the type of food that are so bad it's good!

Shortly after playing Episode 4 for the first time, which I really enjoyed, I shut my Xbox off to have a break. Little did I know this would be the end of its life, later in the day I go to turn it back on, and nothing! I followed all sorts of YouTube tutorials on how to fix it, tearing my Xbox apart multiple times. But nonetheless, I have come to the conclusion that my Xbox One, (original) has finally quit on me after thousands of hours. Good to know that the last game to ever be played on it was The Long Dark. I ordered myself an Xbox Series S, it’s time for an upgrade! Rest easy, old Xbox.

It’s quite a lot of information, lots of cutscenes, new gameplay elements, lots of audio, etc