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About Delannion

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  1. That's not entirely accurate. Off-screen resources use different algorithms, but they do still progress, grow, and change. For example, Beefalo herds still grow even if you ignore them for awhile, spider dens still grow, etc. I believe it is correct that random fires won't burn down the world when the player is nowhere close, but this post isn't about those fires...because they don't exist...
  2. If nothing else, fires need to only start smoldering on-screen. They also should only start during the day, and should smolder for slightly longer before bursting into flame. If there's ever a situation where a player is attentive, reacts quickly, and their base still catches on fire, that's a flawed mechanic. Right now the mechanic is flawed.
  3. @rezecib Disabling summer is by far the worst option - it means the design of Summer is so flawed that the game is more fun without it. I don't think anyone wants that. In fact I get a kick out of the overheating aspect of summer. It's a big challenge especially in the first couple years. I definitely agree about the lack of specific things to do. Summer should have some compelling reason(s) to leave the base, and MacTusk is a great example. Spring and Autumn don't need anything specific..the lack of deadly environmental effects is reason enough to leave the base. But yeah, the bottom line is the random fires are too punishing, with too little counter-play. It's like lightning if lightning rods required a gear to build, fuel to run, had a tiny radius, and put out your campfire. And yes, this gripe is just as much about the Ice Flingomatic as it is about the fires. But mostly it's about the fires.
  4. Full Disclosure: This was by far my most-hated feature in RoG. Actually I think it's the only feature I truly hate in DS. Should it be implemented in DST? Of course I give it a resounding "Heck No!" Trying to keep a single-player base/world from burning down was bad enough, I can't even imagine with a 6-10 person base / world. It would be like every player is their own personal troll, starting fires just off-screen wherever they travel. And as for the Ice Flingomatic? Ain't nobody got time to deal with 10 of those things, let alone the gears, not to mention the troll-factor when they put out your own (endothermic...) campfire.
  5. Monster Lasagne deals 20 damage and 20 sanity loss. Bacon & Eggs heals 20 damage. If your sanity regeneration is positive, this is totally viable.
  6. I would amend this to say never eat Meat that hasn't gone into a crockpot. Eggplant/Pomegranate/Pumpkin should always be cooked but should (almost) never be put in a crockpot(Exception:Pumpkin Cookies). But yeah, other than those veggies it's solid advice. Until you know what you're doing it's way better just to always put food through the crockpot.
  7. TL;DR - Focus on your early-game solo play and base building. Also Beefalo Hats are awesome. Edit - Oh yeah, and the usual disclaimer that this is my personal opinion, others may disagree. However, I have hundreds of hours played and I stand by my opinion regardless of any nay-sayers ________________________________________________________________________________ The Long Version: One problem you and your friends are experiencing is a simple lack of experience. The resources you list: 6 farms, 8 berry bushes, and 2 bee boxes, are what I would expect from a relatively inexperienced solo-player, not from a team of friends working together. @BeastNips suggestions are great, but I think you also want to think about how you start off your game. While not strictly a food based suggestion, here's what I would advise you try next time you play with your friends. Basically you want to all start off as solo players, and only get together once you each have the means and resources to build a very basic base. 3 basic bases put together = one very nice basic base, and then you work together to improve it from there. 1)Location, Location, Location Plan on building your base right at the portal, unless it's in a truly abysmal location( EG at the end of a peninsula). This will save you from spending time running around the map trying to find the 'perfect' spot to build, a process which can easily waste more time than it's worth. Ideally it'll be a mediocre or good location but not a terrible or great location. Despite what many people claim, a good base is defined primarily by its construction and only slightly by its location. This is because nearly every resource in DS can be relocated. As a note, I was never that interested in rabbits or fish so I'm a bit biased. In DST I recommend them because there's always at least 1 player who is happy to spend their days trapping, fishing, and drying, but I can assure you they're not a necessity. 2)Exploration Each of you picks a different direction and goes. This works with 3-4 players, if you have 5-6 you'll want some people to buddy up. Even if you start at different times, it's fine to send players off to do these starting tasks before joining you at the base. Each player should complete the following tasks before returning to begin base construction: -Harvest at least 25ish each of twigs & grass, and a handful of flint. -Harvest at least 1-2 stacks of wood(more is fine). -Harvest at least one pick's worth of stone(more is better), and 5-10 gold. -Build a Science Machine wherever they happen to be. -Note - Whoever gets to this stage first should build BUT NOT PLACE an Alchemy Machine. -Craft a backpack, hammer, shovel, spear, and log suit. -Destroy the science machine to recoup the materials. -Harvest no more than 10 each of grass tufts, saplings, and berry bushes. -Return to portal/base. It's totally fine to take some time out for other tasks as you go. -If you come across koalefant tracks, spawn it. -If you come across spiders, grab some silk. -Find a swamp? Grab the reeds you'll need for your birdcage. -"Accidentally" burn down a forest? Grab that charcoal. All of this will take a good five days and maybe as many as ten days to finish, but has a number of important benefits: -You will have located all or almost all the important biomes & resources. -ALL of your players will have and be able to make all the basic tools, weapon, and armor. -You should have enough resources to immediately build a lightning rod, birdcage, crock pot, and alchemy machine, with resources to spare. -You'll have a respectable amount of twig/berry/grass plants, even if you don't get around to harvesting more before winter. How quickly and effectively you finish the Exploration phase is a good benchmark for how prepared you'll be for winter. 3)Improvement Once you've all returned and set up your base, hopefully you have enough food to go around and fuel your next few days. Your base is 'started' but not yet functional. You'll want to split up for individual 'tasks' for the next part. I won't go into too much detail on the steps, you can easily look them up if you have any questions. Note 1 - Any time a player leaves the base they should take a shovel and bring back some grass tufts, saplings, and/or berry bushes. Note 2 - Don't kill Koalefants unless you badly need the food, or need to make the clothing. Instead, chase them back to base and use them for manure. Note 3 - Warm clothing plays a critical role in surviving winter, and more importantly, enjoying winter. You'll want a minimum of a Beefalo Hat, and I recommend a Breezy/Puffy Vest as well if not playing Wilson. In order to have a fully functional base, you'll want to do all or most of the following. Each of these are 1 or 2-person jobs, and should take 1-2 days to complete each. The numbers are flexible, just suggestions. -Gather manure/beefalo fur/Beefalo Hats -Build 1-2 bee boxes. -Create a Spider farm with 1-3 nests. -Build 1-4 Ice Boxes(2 person to kill the chess monsters, they're tougher in DST) -Build 4-8 Drying Racks. -Build 4-12 Advanced Farms. -Smash at least 6 Pig Houses and reconstruct them 1 1/2 - 2 1/2 screens away from base, preferably near your wood-chopping area. Note - Pigs aggro against Hounds, provide manure when fed veggies, help chop trees, restore sanity when nearby, and are a source of meat/pigskin in a pinch. Don't underestimate their value. 4)Preparation By this point your base should be capable of generating food and hopefully you have a few days to stockpile for winter. However, more important than food is clothing. A player with 12 days worth of food and no winter clothing is a dead player. A player with no food, a Beefalo Hat, a breezy vest, and a spear is going to be fine. Note - Don't use Heat Stones. Now that they wear out and are destroyed they're not worth the hefty stone cost.
  8. I decided not to include more because by that time I would expect other teammates to be helping, or for the player to have to go out for other specific non-basic material(charcoal, reeds, silk, etc). It's pretty common to task one person with gathering charcoal for crock pots & drying racks, another gets reeds and silk for the bird cage, another gathers manure for farms, etc. Perhaps all things considered I should have included Lightning Rod since I would expect the 'rocks and gold' guy to build that, but it's only another 9 rock and 1 gold, and it's not usually important to have right away.
  9. I'm not suggesting every player needs all of these items the moment they step through the portal. However, I'm suggesting that if you intend to build a base, and if you intend to have a full set of tools, this is the resources you need access to. If you enjoy logging onto servers and merely surviving without ever building advanced tools or building a base, that's fine, your choice.
  10. TLDR - I'm not making any grand statement with this post, just some numbers on how many basic materials it takes to get rolling. _________________________________________________________________________________ I was bored, so I decided to play a quick solo game and measure what it takes to construct a minimal base and full set of tools. I am defining a minimal base as alchemy machine, stone firepit, and a chest. Realistically a functional base requires a lot more, but I feel this adds some perspective on about how much gathering is really required to "get started." I went pretty fast, constructing my base on day 3. I didn't track food consumption. Grass Twigs Flint Log Stone Gold Total: 23 24 15 42 22 7 Axe(x3) 3 3Pickaxe(x2) 4 4Torch(x2) 4 4 Science M. 4 4 1 Backpack 4 4Spear 3 2 1Shovel 2 2Hammer 6 3 3Razor 2 2Log Suit 6 8Stone Firepit 2 12Chest 12Alchemy M. 16 6 6 As the numbers show, It actually takes quite a bit of material and investment just to be what a solo player would consider minimally functional. If a player happens to join a co-op server that has been running for awhile they may not need to gather as much wood, stone, and gold, but they still need an awful lot of grass, twigs, and flint, which is likely to be quite scarce since most players aren't great a resource management. All of this makes me feel that players who join servers that have been up for awhile need some help with their starting gear / recipes.
  11. The burden should be on the player to cache their stuff in a box before leaving, not on the host to nag every person who logs in not to log off with valuable items.
  12. I don't see this as a problem. It's not "For Nothing", it's because they're probably carrying a bunch of valuable stuff they didn't even make themselves, and they probably aren't coming back. I agree it should be an "option", not an "always on" type of thing - if you're on a private server with friends you aren't as concerned with random people joining the server, taking a bunch of stuff, and quitting with it.
  13. Not just when they're banned, when they leave for any reason. In my games, I build 95%+ of buildings and craft 80%+ of useful items, I don't see any reason other players should get to leave the server with them.
  14. A DOG DAY NIGHT I always thought I would die first and then go to hell, not the other way around. The fire crackles and spits as I add another log. It’s cedar, like all the trees in this section of the island, so the fire burns fast and hot. The campfire provides the only light in the darkness, other than the distant glint of a patch of fireflies off somewhere in the woods. At least I hope it’s fireflies. There are no stars in this place. Even the moon is a pale pathetic thing that sheds only enough light to be seen. Unless it‘s full. Then it‘s a whole different story. The moon is only half-full tonight, so that’s one less Problem to worry about. Sitting near me on a tree stump is a cat, black as the night and almost impossible to see. “Come here Wilson, have your fish.” The cat ignores me. He just sits, staring out into the darkness at creatures that I can’t see. His tail swipes gently from side to side, a sure sign that he doesn’t see any immediate threat. He’s my only companion in this wretched place. I named him Wilson because it’s a good name for a survivor, and the cat’s definitely a survivor. So am I. I have no idea how long he’s been here. Awhile, I suspect. Maybe he’s part of this place The cat found me on my first day here. Found us, I should say. There were more of us then. Just like me, they had no idea how they’d gotten here. We just all woke up that day, trapped in this strange place. Wilson took an immediate liking to me, and I to him. I let my mind drift back to that first day. It’s the only happy memory I have of this place. I skipped around through the forest, gathered berries, made myself a little flower garland, and chased rabbits around the prairie. The moment the sun went down, the screaming started. I was sitting by a campfire. Most of the others weren’t so lucky. There was screaming, and the sound of tearing flesh. We could hear some of them calling for help, and running for the fire, but none of them made it. I’d say that night still gives me nightmares, but I’d be lying. I’ve had nights a lot worse than that one. I cast a glance back behind me into the darkness. It’s too dark to see, but there’s a row of crude headstones, hewn from the granite boulders that dot the landscape. There were survivors from the first night, of course. Not so many left now. Maybe a few who I’ve lost track of are out there somewhere, fending for themselves like I am. The rest keep me company through the long nights. Wilson still hasn‘t moved from his vigil. “You’re lucky I like you, cat!” I sigh and toss the fish in his direction, confident that he’ll get around to it eventually. It’s the last of the fish. All I have for myself is a couple handfuls of berries and a wild carrot I stumbled across while chopping wood. I’ll have to go foraging tomorrow. I stoke the fire as high as I dare and settle in for the night. You have to sleep some time, and night’s no worse than any other time, as long as the fire stays lit. It‘s not like it‘s safe to wandering around in the Darkness. The nights are getting colder, but it’s not quite cold enough to pull out the winter gear. I could use my makeshift tent, but it’s harder to hear danger approach from inside. I’ve learned to sleep light. If there’s a Problem on the way, it makes a sound. That’s one of the Rules of this place. There are many rules, some stranger than others. I keep a mental note, because forgetting them can get you killed. Never enter the Darkness; Problems always make a sound; Don’t feed a pig-man too much meat; Always carry extra pinecones; Never kill three rabbits on the same day; Never punch a giant frog. Trust me on that last one. The list goes on. Oh yeah. And there’s no way out. I’ve searched. We all did. I’ve found lots of rocks, trees, grass, bushes, rocks, flowers, fireflies, bees, bison, and lots and lots of Problems…but no way out. Still, I’d like to think that one day I will find a way out. A way back home. A way to a place that’s sunny all the time… “Hiss!!!” I awake with a start. I must have nodded off. The fire has only died down a little, it‘s the dead of night. Wilson is standing on a tree stump, his hair standing on end, and hissing at the night. “What is it cat? I don’t hear any…oh.” There it is, a long, low howl….the baying of the Hounds. It’s loud. Too loud. They’re close, and they’ll be here soon. “Damn!” I quickly toss some more logs on the fire, more than is strictly safe but I’ll need all the light I can get. I hurriedly strap on my makeshift armor - a collection of carefully shaped branches roped together and fashioned into a sort of external wooden ribcage. It‘s heavy and awkward but surprisingly effective. It’s also beginning to fall apart, but it’s a little late to worry about that now. My spear at least is in good repair. The baying grows louder with every breath. There are a lot of them. Too Many. Wilson hides under the stack of firewood. I grab my Emergency Bag with my free hand. My heart is racing. Soon the baying is right on top of us. I can hear the Hounds’ feet kicking up leaves as they rush in from every direction. I brace myself with the fire pit on one side, the tent on the other, and a tree stump at my back. The first one bursts into the light and rushes directly at me. I wait for it to get close then jump to the side, driving my spear into its fleshy flanks. I’m rewarded with a cry of pain as the Hound darts away, bleeding badly. Another one jumps onto the stump behind me and begins chomping at my head. With a quick side-sweep I knock its legs out from under it, knock it to the ground. The moment I turn, two of them are at my back. One gets a mouthful of wood, but the other bites into my calf. I turn and jab, catching one in the thigh, and they jump back, waiting for another opening. Dodge. Thrust. Jab. Repeat. In another minute I’ve killed four of them, and injured a dozen more. I‘m bleeding from 2 more bites. Stab! Another goes down, but they just keep coming. Dodge. Thrust. Jab. Repeat. Another pair down, but one took a chunk out of my arm. And then suddenly they stop. The ones around me slink back to the edge of the camp, except for one that whimpers as it slowly dies by the wood pile. For a moment, I just stand in shock, bracing for the next impact. My heart is still beating like I’m running a marathon. Did I win? Is that all of them? No. I frown. This isn’t right. I can still see their eyes glinting in the darkness, can hear their growls, the sound of their paws as they circle the camp, just outside the radius of my fire. I yell at them. “What are you waiting for, you dumb dogs?!” They don’t respond, but after a moment, slowly, ponderously, something comes forward into the light. It’s a Hound, but bigger than any I’ve seen before. Bigger than any three put together. He stands as tall as my shoulder, and branches snap like bones beneath his feet. A thousand pounds of muscle ripples with his every step. His fur is grizzled white, his fangs are jagged, and his eyes shine with bloody murder. I can smell the rot on his breath from across the camp. I’m beginning to get a little nervous. My spear is good enough for fish or Hounds, but this…? I move to put the fire between myself and the beast. He begins to grown. It’s a low, rumbling sound that seems to shake the very earth. The others begin to growl as well, a chorus of deadly finality. I watch him through the flames of the fire pit. Waiting. It doesn’t take long. He crouches. His muscles tense. It’s time. I close my eyes. He leaps. And that’s when I throw the gunpowder on the fire. The sudden fireball is hot enough to burn my face from here, and nearly bright enough to blind me through my closed eyelids. I try to dodge out of the way but he barrels into me. My spear goes flying and I fall to the ground with the wind knocked out of me. Fortunately, I’ve just become the least of his problems. The big Hound has transformed from a canine of death into a fireball of death, and he’s none too pleased. He dashes mindlessly left and right, his entire coat ablaze. He crashes through my drying rack, setting it alight. Next he stumbles into a patch of berries I’ve been cultivating, likewise setting it on fire. All the while he howls, a sound of pain that is both terrifying and pitiful. He brushes up against a cedar tree, and the entire area erupts in red light, a blood moon to witness his torment. A few moments more and he collapses, just at the edge of my camp, his howl subsiding to a whimpering growl. I approach carefully, spear in hand. The beast reeks of cooked filth. His fur is completely gone, and in places the flesh has charred down to the bone. He growls at me as I approach, his bloody eyes more hateful than ever as he struggles to rise. “Not today” is all I say as I drive my spear into his neck. He gargles and falls back to the ground. I stab him again. And again. And again until he falls still, and the murder finally leaves his eyes. It’s then that I realize the night has gone quiet. The only sound is the flicker of the flame and the crack of burning branches. The other Hounds have gone. The cedar tree is burning strong but it doesn’t seem to be spreading, and the other fires have gone out. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the smell. I stumble away from the smoldering corpse and vomit into a bush. My heart begins to slow and I’m suddenly aware of my body again. My legs are bleeding. My arm is bleeding. My face is cracked and burned from the heat. Clumsily I doff my armor and drop my spear. My hands are shaking. I peel off my clothing. There’s a lot of blood. I rummage around for some clean water. I wash the wounds, binding them with some scraps of spare clothing. It hurts, but they don’t seem as bad as I feared. When morning comes it finds me sitting next to my campfire, roasting a chunk of thick, gamey meat. It smells foul, and it tastes worse, but I’m in no shape to be picky. I’m lost in thought when Wilson jumps up into my lap. “Well there you are, cat. Did you have fun hiding under the wood pile while I nearly died?” The cat says nothing, just looks at me with his big yellow eyes. I stroke the cat with one hand while I put another chunk of meat over the fire. “So, Wilson. I don’t think we’ve been taking those Hounds seriously enough. We’ve got to be ready if they come back again. I’m thinking traps. Lots and lots of traps.” The cat begins to purr. THE END