31
There are a lot of things you pick up when you first start out. Hitting things makes them easier to carry, don't use wood pickaxes on ores, don't dig straight down, and of course, monsters come out at night. It's easy to lose track of time while exploring and clocks are hard to come by in the earlier points of a game. That is why it is imperative to use the sun.
Many cultures worship the sun in some way or another and for good reason.
It brings light, warmth, and -above all- hope in the darkest of times. This old trick is for no different reason than telling time and giving a sliver of hope of survival at the very beginning.
In order to prevent running out of time to nightfall, especially on that crucial first night, you follow the sun. Putting the sun to your back on spawn and walking along its designated path gives you much-needed time to build even the simplest of shelters before it becomes dire to need it. It's a necessary practice in order to survive not just the first night, but every night that comes after until you begin to settle into your home base. Even after you find a place to rest your head, it is still good to use it for exploring during your adventure. A crucial tactic, it was always there to tick time off to night, a countdown as it begins to sink into your field of vision.
Follow the Sun. May it bring you light in those dark times. May it help the flowers to bloom.
The Red Path is one of those coincidental things.
It is less planned in the same way one might think about, and is more out of some inexplicable code that makes things recognizable at a glance. They point the way you need to go and act like a good blessing on places you will choose to settle. A shock of red easy to notice against old colors and textures, we used to say 'good spirits reside here' among them. Whatever these spirits actually are is up to interpretation. For us, it was a glitch in the textures. A safe warm feeling and a trick of the rendered eye, the smallest of cues that silently said 'it's safe here'.
This wasn't always the case, though.
There are times, even in newer versions and maps, that it feels like Something is trying to follow you. The kind of feeling that makes you feel like it isn't safe to move closer toward your final destination, a future home. These are the times it is advised to gather the Red Path as you follow it. It's a deterrent to make sure nothing that can cause an irreparable glitch can find you.
She watches the sun as it dips toward the western horizon. Even though that first night has assured her that monsters are disabled, it's still an unavoidable instinct to raise a barrier between herself and the dark of night. It takes quite some willpower to force herself to curb the need to unpack and build a shelter.
She is far enough away from the desert's edge to avoid the soaring temperatures at high noon. It's not so far away that she can't feel the intense heat wafting off the great expanse, the oncoming colors of sunset beginning to waver with the last heat of the day. With a sinking feeling, she realizes she will have to wait for full dark before continuing on. That is the time it will be coolest and she will be much safer at that point than any other time.
She has spent the majority of her day at the little spring, hiding among the sugarcane and snacking on dried pork chunks. Though the day progresses as routinely as always, it feels like an eternity to her to just sit and wait, an energy to keep moving practically vibrating in her limbs. It's a relief to feel the day's heat start to dissipate away as the sky shifts to corals and pinks, and then to a dark rich blue. The relaxation has done her good and with a restful sigh, she refills her water bottle and prepares for the journey through the sandy wastes spread before her.
The heat is not nearly as bad after dark but it still carries noticeable warmth on the low breeze that rustles the sand in its wake. It's not unpleasant, a fragrant wind that carries the scent of some indeterminate spice that fills her nose with a sense of calm. She is surprised to find that the air is still cooler than expected, stopping slowly in her trek to admire the scuttling clouds and clusters of stars moving in the night sky above. She finds herself grateful she's able to see such a sight, the pale sands below in the moonlight stark against the black sky. She was much too quick earlier to mistake the desert for nothing more than a harsh wasteland, chalking it up to having been sore and tired and maybe a little frustrated at the time.
Like the sun of day, she keeps the moon at her back as she continues, following its path over the dark skies. Her eyes scan the far horizon, hoping to catch a flash of vibrant red in the silvery light of the half moon. Every so often, a wayward animal wanders into her vision and it gives her an instinctual start, a quick tense and a few steps back for distance. Once she takes a moment to process it's merely a cow or pig, she takes some time to settle her nerves and presses onward and continues her search for the next cluster of roses.
For a long while, all that glimmers back is white sand and the occasional glint of moonlight off the surface of tiny pools of water that have not yet dried up in the heat of the day. She stops briefly at a few of them to rest, refreshing herself with a splash to rinse her face and eyes of dust that clings to them. She takes a few short naps at these tiny oases to help keep her from falling asleep on the rest of the journey, and once she is ready, she tops off her water bottle and moves on. It will be daybreak again all too soon and she needs as much energy as she can muster to exit the desert before then.
Cresting and sliding down the shifting dunes and tamping over seemingly-endless stretches of flatland between begins to take its toll, and she feels the fatigue starting to set into her. Despite the night being chillier and even with frequent enough breaks, she feels the blistering friction of her feet and lower legs inside her boots. She finds herself stopping more and more often under pretense of surveying the surroundings and checking on her time.
The moon is nearing the far horizon now, though it's not close enough to the other horizon to see the light start creeping in opposite. She takes some time at another spring to make sure she has water enough and to admire the nighttime desert behind her one last time. Despite its trials, she has come to appreciate the unexpected beauty of this biome and hopes a little that wherever she makes her home will have a desert nearby to experience it again.
A shimmering sliver of light on the eastern horizon makes her wish for an end to this one, however. The moon has fallen further down, and the sun is beginning to rise in tandem. Her gut flutters as her urgency to find the edge of the gritty wastes rises. She continues on at a slightly faster pace against the complaining of her tired legs, the unstable sands sending up particles in her hurried wake. She can see the bottom of the moon start to touch the far horizon. Her time is almost up.
The flatland suddenly ends in front of her, dropping into a sandy abyss far below. She stops just short of its edge, watching unsettled sand particles fall into empty space. She stumbles back a few steps from the abrupt edge of the plateau, making sure she's on stable ground before deciding to take advantage of her newfound vantage point. The plateau is higher than most other features in the area and a quick scan of her surroundings colored coral in the creeping dawn finally reveals what she has been looking for all night.
The line between biomes is a scattered one at best, but the smattering of green against the pale sand is more than a welcome sight indeed. Not too far from the boundary line is a cluster of red roses, bowing playfully in an early morning breeze as though beckoning her to cooler calmer pastures ahead. They dip over the shore of a meandering river, carving its way further ahead into a distant lake. The far shores are just beyond the rendering fog, hazy jagged peaks peeking in and out of view when she shifts her position. A teasing glimpse of white tells her the journey up them will be cold, but a faint patch of red on the sheer slopes gives her direction. Before she sets out to the lake and beyond, she knows a break will be needed, but she needs to get there first.
It has been a long night's trek, even with the small rests along the way. The sun is a constant reminder as it climbs higher and brightens the world one bit at a time. It will take some time to heat back up to unbearable levels again and she is counting on this grace period to reach her destination. Her body is tired and sore, reticent to continue on from the abuse it's faced thus far. She spurs herself onward despite its protests, clambering down the steep plateau side to reach its base below. The rest of the way to the border is mostly flat, and even in the early morning sun, she can feel the heat beginning to waft off the sand. The wavering warmth only intensifies at her back as she stumbles over the line onto the stable plains ground. She puts the desert behind her, walking toward the river ahead.
The dirt shores of the river feel like a godsend and she quickly removes her boots and discards them before plunging her burning feet and legs into the chilly flowing water. She lets herself relax, her shoulders sagging the tension out of her and letting the fatigue and exhaustion of the night before set in. She leans back slowly, first against her hands and then against her back. She closes her eyes, feeling the cold water lap around her knees and hearing the wind rustle grasses and flowers next to her ears.
She wakes at around noon. The exhaustion of before has virtually kept her from moving, and she feels her picturesque surroundings before she sees the greater picture. Cool grass against her back, clouds wafting passed above on their own trails. She takes a moment to regain her bearings. The sun is just over its zenith and with a stretch to draw in energy to her limbs again, her toes curl in the cold river water and squish into the bank below. It gives her a strange sense of serenity, a gritty sort of peace that takes her a moment to process. The grain of sand and mud is there, a familiar sensation against the unfamiliar oozing between probing toes. It's enough to make her want to sit up to investigate.
Through the glittering surface of the water, she sees the culprit. She can see the glint of the sand, light against the darker mud and stone pebbles surrounding it. Mixed with the shifting blues of the river water and mostly hidden in the shift of light and shadow on the subtle waves, she catches a glimpse of paler grey. She tests it a little more with a bit of it near one foot, pushing the ball of it into the substance and leaving a lasting impression when she pulls it back.
With a little curious excitement, she pulls her legs out of the water and under her, wasting no time in gathering the underwater gift. There is an abundance of it as it easily fills three slots of her pouch with rolled balls of raw dripping clay. It seems like a lot now, but she knows it will come in handy later. How, she doesn't know now. It will come to her when it's time, she knows that is how it works.
Starting fresh wipes her memory of old teachings, but if her journey so far as taught her anything about it, it is that such ideals and methods will return over time. Like forgotten instincts returning from dormancy. She does understand on some level how this is her purpose, to remember these things slowly over time. Like the sun dipping toward the far horizon, it will give her direction.
She takes a moment to pat her legs and feet dry and she pulls her boots on, settling her bag back across her shoulders. Facing the path the sun is taking, she jumps over a narrow point between banks and makes her way toward the next patch of red on the distant slopes, fading in and out of the render fog teasingly.
She is beginning again.
<< Beginning || Next >>
Many cultures worship the sun in some way or another and for good reason.
It brings light, warmth, and -above all- hope in the darkest of times. This old trick is for no different reason than telling time and giving a sliver of hope of survival at the very beginning.
In order to prevent running out of time to nightfall, especially on that crucial first night, you follow the sun. Putting the sun to your back on spawn and walking along its designated path gives you much-needed time to build even the simplest of shelters before it becomes dire to need it. It's a necessary practice in order to survive not just the first night, but every night that comes after until you begin to settle into your home base. Even after you find a place to rest your head, it is still good to use it for exploring during your adventure. A crucial tactic, it was always there to tick time off to night, a countdown as it begins to sink into your field of vision.
Follow the Sun. May it bring you light in those dark times. May it help the flowers to bloom.
The Red Path is one of those coincidental things.
It is less planned in the same way one might think about, and is more out of some inexplicable code that makes things recognizable at a glance. They point the way you need to go and act like a good blessing on places you will choose to settle. A shock of red easy to notice against old colors and textures, we used to say 'good spirits reside here' among them. Whatever these spirits actually are is up to interpretation. For us, it was a glitch in the textures. A safe warm feeling and a trick of the rendered eye, the smallest of cues that silently said 'it's safe here'.
This wasn't always the case, though.
There are times, even in newer versions and maps, that it feels like Something is trying to follow you. The kind of feeling that makes you feel like it isn't safe to move closer toward your final destination, a future home. These are the times it is advised to gather the Red Path as you follow it. It's a deterrent to make sure nothing that can cause an irreparable glitch can find you.
She watches the sun as it dips toward the western horizon. Even though that first night has assured her that monsters are disabled, it's still an unavoidable instinct to raise a barrier between herself and the dark of night. It takes quite some willpower to force herself to curb the need to unpack and build a shelter.
She is far enough away from the desert's edge to avoid the soaring temperatures at high noon. It's not so far away that she can't feel the intense heat wafting off the great expanse, the oncoming colors of sunset beginning to waver with the last heat of the day. With a sinking feeling, she realizes she will have to wait for full dark before continuing on. That is the time it will be coolest and she will be much safer at that point than any other time.
She has spent the majority of her day at the little spring, hiding among the sugarcane and snacking on dried pork chunks. Though the day progresses as routinely as always, it feels like an eternity to her to just sit and wait, an energy to keep moving practically vibrating in her limbs. It's a relief to feel the day's heat start to dissipate away as the sky shifts to corals and pinks, and then to a dark rich blue. The relaxation has done her good and with a restful sigh, she refills her water bottle and prepares for the journey through the sandy wastes spread before her.
The heat is not nearly as bad after dark but it still carries noticeable warmth on the low breeze that rustles the sand in its wake. It's not unpleasant, a fragrant wind that carries the scent of some indeterminate spice that fills her nose with a sense of calm. She is surprised to find that the air is still cooler than expected, stopping slowly in her trek to admire the scuttling clouds and clusters of stars moving in the night sky above. She finds herself grateful she's able to see such a sight, the pale sands below in the moonlight stark against the black sky. She was much too quick earlier to mistake the desert for nothing more than a harsh wasteland, chalking it up to having been sore and tired and maybe a little frustrated at the time.
Like the sun of day, she keeps the moon at her back as she continues, following its path over the dark skies. Her eyes scan the far horizon, hoping to catch a flash of vibrant red in the silvery light of the half moon. Every so often, a wayward animal wanders into her vision and it gives her an instinctual start, a quick tense and a few steps back for distance. Once she takes a moment to process it's merely a cow or pig, she takes some time to settle her nerves and presses onward and continues her search for the next cluster of roses.
For a long while, all that glimmers back is white sand and the occasional glint of moonlight off the surface of tiny pools of water that have not yet dried up in the heat of the day. She stops briefly at a few of them to rest, refreshing herself with a splash to rinse her face and eyes of dust that clings to them. She takes a few short naps at these tiny oases to help keep her from falling asleep on the rest of the journey, and once she is ready, she tops off her water bottle and moves on. It will be daybreak again all too soon and she needs as much energy as she can muster to exit the desert before then.
Cresting and sliding down the shifting dunes and tamping over seemingly-endless stretches of flatland between begins to take its toll, and she feels the fatigue starting to set into her. Despite the night being chillier and even with frequent enough breaks, she feels the blistering friction of her feet and lower legs inside her boots. She finds herself stopping more and more often under pretense of surveying the surroundings and checking on her time.
The moon is nearing the far horizon now, though it's not close enough to the other horizon to see the light start creeping in opposite. She takes some time at another spring to make sure she has water enough and to admire the nighttime desert behind her one last time. Despite its trials, she has come to appreciate the unexpected beauty of this biome and hopes a little that wherever she makes her home will have a desert nearby to experience it again.
A shimmering sliver of light on the eastern horizon makes her wish for an end to this one, however. The moon has fallen further down, and the sun is beginning to rise in tandem. Her gut flutters as her urgency to find the edge of the gritty wastes rises. She continues on at a slightly faster pace against the complaining of her tired legs, the unstable sands sending up particles in her hurried wake. She can see the bottom of the moon start to touch the far horizon. Her time is almost up.
The flatland suddenly ends in front of her, dropping into a sandy abyss far below. She stops just short of its edge, watching unsettled sand particles fall into empty space. She stumbles back a few steps from the abrupt edge of the plateau, making sure she's on stable ground before deciding to take advantage of her newfound vantage point. The plateau is higher than most other features in the area and a quick scan of her surroundings colored coral in the creeping dawn finally reveals what she has been looking for all night.
The line between biomes is a scattered one at best, but the smattering of green against the pale sand is more than a welcome sight indeed. Not too far from the boundary line is a cluster of red roses, bowing playfully in an early morning breeze as though beckoning her to cooler calmer pastures ahead. They dip over the shore of a meandering river, carving its way further ahead into a distant lake. The far shores are just beyond the rendering fog, hazy jagged peaks peeking in and out of view when she shifts her position. A teasing glimpse of white tells her the journey up them will be cold, but a faint patch of red on the sheer slopes gives her direction. Before she sets out to the lake and beyond, she knows a break will be needed, but she needs to get there first.
It has been a long night's trek, even with the small rests along the way. The sun is a constant reminder as it climbs higher and brightens the world one bit at a time. It will take some time to heat back up to unbearable levels again and she is counting on this grace period to reach her destination. Her body is tired and sore, reticent to continue on from the abuse it's faced thus far. She spurs herself onward despite its protests, clambering down the steep plateau side to reach its base below. The rest of the way to the border is mostly flat, and even in the early morning sun, she can feel the heat beginning to waft off the sand. The wavering warmth only intensifies at her back as she stumbles over the line onto the stable plains ground. She puts the desert behind her, walking toward the river ahead.
The dirt shores of the river feel like a godsend and she quickly removes her boots and discards them before plunging her burning feet and legs into the chilly flowing water. She lets herself relax, her shoulders sagging the tension out of her and letting the fatigue and exhaustion of the night before set in. She leans back slowly, first against her hands and then against her back. She closes her eyes, feeling the cold water lap around her knees and hearing the wind rustle grasses and flowers next to her ears.
She wakes at around noon. The exhaustion of before has virtually kept her from moving, and she feels her picturesque surroundings before she sees the greater picture. Cool grass against her back, clouds wafting passed above on their own trails. She takes a moment to regain her bearings. The sun is just over its zenith and with a stretch to draw in energy to her limbs again, her toes curl in the cold river water and squish into the bank below. It gives her a strange sense of serenity, a gritty sort of peace that takes her a moment to process. The grain of sand and mud is there, a familiar sensation against the unfamiliar oozing between probing toes. It's enough to make her want to sit up to investigate.
Through the glittering surface of the water, she sees the culprit. She can see the glint of the sand, light against the darker mud and stone pebbles surrounding it. Mixed with the shifting blues of the river water and mostly hidden in the shift of light and shadow on the subtle waves, she catches a glimpse of paler grey. She tests it a little more with a bit of it near one foot, pushing the ball of it into the substance and leaving a lasting impression when she pulls it back.
With a little curious excitement, she pulls her legs out of the water and under her, wasting no time in gathering the underwater gift. There is an abundance of it as it easily fills three slots of her pouch with rolled balls of raw dripping clay. It seems like a lot now, but she knows it will come in handy later. How, she doesn't know now. It will come to her when it's time, she knows that is how it works.
Starting fresh wipes her memory of old teachings, but if her journey so far as taught her anything about it, it is that such ideals and methods will return over time. Like forgotten instincts returning from dormancy. She does understand on some level how this is her purpose, to remember these things slowly over time. Like the sun dipping toward the far horizon, it will give her direction.
She takes a moment to pat her legs and feet dry and she pulls her boots on, settling her bag back across her shoulders. Facing the path the sun is taking, she jumps over a narrow point between banks and makes her way toward the next patch of red on the distant slopes, fading in and out of the render fog teasingly.
She is beginning again.
<< Beginning || Next >>
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