Day 215: maps

Day 215:

I feel pretty comfortable that my maps are correct and I’ve made some paths through space that make it easier to get from place to place. It appears that, using the standard measurement system we use at The Company, the structure that I’ve made is about 15 Levels deep, though not all of them are mined out. Here’s a thumbnail of what I’ve got.

an incredibly complicated map of 15 levels (from above) in multiple colors with stairways and waterways and lava all marked.
Sorry if it’s a bit fuzzy-looking. My latest batch of ink is crap. Still working on that.

So that’s a thing I’ve accomplished. Not sure it’ll ever do anyone any good, but when they come to rescue me I’ll probably leave it on the table for the next stranded soul.

Day 214: back to the pits

Day 214:

Arm’s feeling good enough to go do some light mining. I’m staying relatively nearby one of my more fortified locations and I’m really wishing this planet had painkillers. But I’m also finding coal, which I need pretty badly if I’m going to smelt enough metal to make more boots.

Yes, plenty of waterlogged leather boots from an assumed-ancient civilization are available, but they don’t do much to protect me from exploding giraffe-corgis, and my feet are only just starting to feel normal after that last run-in.  So it’s solid stone or metal boots, or nothing.

I’d love to find more of that diamond-like stone because it made for pretty good body armor when carved correctly. But one can’t have everything.

Because if one could have everything I wouldn’t be eating leftover ducken-carrot stew for lunch

Day 213: poor weapons use

Day 213:

The zombie that attacked me when I went outside to try to dig up some carrots was wielding a bar of iron.

But not like a steel pipe. More like an ingot.

I don’t know whether it was supposed to be the world’s worst set of brass knuckles or what.

I ran him through on my sword with my good arm (go me!) and went back to digging up carrots.

Day 212: slow fishing

Day 212:

Since my good arm’s still wrenched I’m teaching myself to fish with my other arm, while I’m still convinced the good one will at some point heal. After all, if it gets blown clean off I’d rather already be able to use the other one.

Pulled up:

  • an ancient fishing pole
  • 3 bowls
  • 1 hook of some sort
  • 1 animal name tag collar thing?
  • a large wad of spider silk
  • 18 fish
  • 1 pair of boots (of course)

The pole looks the most interesting because it shimmers funny, and because it seems light and well-balanced. My current pole I made myself and it catches fish, but it’s not always the easiest process to haul them in. This new-to-me-pole is much better at that, good enough that I was able to catch the rest of the stuff.

Day 211: Sick day

Day 211:

Okay now this isn’t a day off because if it was a day off I’d be enjoying it.

Instead it appears I wrenched my back and shoulder hauling that anvil across the great wasteland underground yesterday, and now I can’t pick up anything heavier than this pen with my right hand. (Seriously. Not even the ink bottle.)

So it’s all about hot soaks and eating protein and sleeping for now. Wish me luck.

And alcohol. If somehow you could wish me a bottle of whiskey that would be amazing.