Ice, Ice Baby – Or: How Dave Weaponised Confidence and Lost a Horse
In other words – any plan that involves shooting a polar bear can only end badly – just ask Dave’s horse.
It’s kind of like when Dave says – I have a plan.
Which, in our group, is less a reassuring statement and more of a public safety announcement. Sirens should sound. Lights should flash. Zaph should appear out of nowhere just to say, “No.”
Winchester 2.0: Now With 300% More Poor Decisions
With Zaph away (clearly the universe removing adult supervision), Dave declared it the perfect opportunity to work on Lakehouse 2.0.
Or as I have officially, cartographically, and spiritually named it: Winchester.
Dave’s “small extension” plan included:
Extending the workshop
Expanding the kitchen
Re-roofing the second storey
Which would “make room” (Dave optimism scale: extreme) for:
Two relocated beds
A biofuel oxite dissolver
A glass working bench
A fabricator
A forge
An upgraded textile bench
In essence, we were converting a lakeside retreat into an industrial complex powered entirely by copper shortages and denial.
Meanwhile, I was handling farming plots, watering duties, and gathering sulphur—because someone has to keep the group alive while Dave builds increasingly unnecessary infrastructure.
Dave took a break from construction to visit the automated mines, swapping empty biofuel cans for full ones and returning like a triumphant pack mule with Aluminium, Charcoal, and Gold.
We then did a full mining circuit for exotics and ores to feed Dave’s building spree. Every floor tile required iron nails. Every wall demanded leather, wood, and stone. Every device consumed copper like it was a lifestyle choice.
We even installed an automated copper drill behind the trader. Not because we were prepared. Because we were desperate.
Craig: Now With Flamethrower (What Could Possibly Go Wrong)
Back at the house, Craig was performing his assigned chores:
Feeding animals
Gathering wood for tree sap & biofuel
Collecting fibre
Mining silicate
Producing charcoal
Given last week’s revelation that Craig cannot be trusted with open fires, Dave proposed the obvious solution:
Give him a flamethrower.
A significant amount of valuable resources was poured into crafting this instrument of selective environmental collapse.
And then—against all logic—Craig used it responsibly.
He cleared vegetation.
He burned trees carefully.
He showed restraint.
This was deeply unsettling for everyone involved.
Musical Interlude (Rewritten for Legal Reasons and Emotional Accuracy)
With Craig refusing to immolate the countryside on cue, the planned Fire performance was abandoned. Instead, Dave delivered something closer to a dying walrus attempting rhythm:
Yo VIP, let's kick it Ice, ice baby Ice, ice babyAlright stop, collaborate and listenIce is back with my brand new invention – a water reservoir, and an Ice BoxSomething grabs a hold of me tightlyFlow like a harpoon daily and nightlyWill it ever stop? Yo, I don't knowTurn off the lights, and I'll glowDeadly, when I play a dopeAnything less than the best is a felonyLove it or leave it, you better gangwayYou better hit bull's eye, the polar bear don't playIf there was a problem, yo, I'll solve itCheck out the hook while my DJ revolves it
This would later prove to be less a song and more a prophecy.
The Ice Plan (Which Was Definitely About Ice and Not Death)
Like all great tragedies, this began innocently:
“The kitchen could use an ice-box.”
We also needed a water reservoir. Dave built both, then handed out shovels and declared we would go collect ice.
Already, the signs were there.
The Expedition: South, Because Of Course
I checked the map. We had two choices: west or south.
Like a fool, I asked Dave.
Dave noted there was a world boss to the west and immediately chose south—because clearly, that direction had never gone wrong before.
We set out:
Dave and I on horses
Craig on his buffalo
Progress was slow, as Dave stopped at every berry, soy bean, watermelon, and carrot like a man determined to forage his way into irrelevance.
Eventually, we neared our destination. I spotted a brown bear and advised caution.
Dave snuck up, took careful aim, and released.
One shot. Clean kill.
Dave immediately began questioning Zaph’s competence with bears.
This was the turning point. Hubris had entered the chat.
The Polar Bear Incident (Also Known As: The Beginning of the End)
At the pass, we began digging snow.
I spotted a polar bear and advised immediate evacuation.
Dave responded by sneaking up on it.
At this exact moment, Craig and I were both peacefully digging ice on the edge of the ice field, blissfully unaware that Dave had decided to initiate Operation: Poor Life Choices without notifying command, support, or anyone possessing a survival instinct.
He drew his bow.
He fired.
The arrow struck the polar bear… in the arse.
The bear flinched. Looked around.
Dave fired again. And again. Each shot landing with increasing concern and decreasing effectiveness.
Then the bear locked onto Dave.
And charged.
I yelled at Dave, cursing him for shooting a bear without warning anyone.
Dave, at this point, was fully committed to the “run and regret later” strategy.
The bear struck.
Dave was flung through the air, painting the snow in a tasteful red motif.
He attempted to mount his horse.
The bear disagreed.
As Dave lay dying, his final vision was his horse bravely fighting the bear—and losing.
Score Update
Polar Bear: 2
Dave & Horse: 0
Recovery Operations (Featuring Craig, Somehow Competent)
I lured the polar bear away on horseback while Craig—yes, Craig—snuck back and resurrected Dave.
Dave recovered the saddle.
“I will never forget you – Iron Hauler 2.0,” he sobbed.
Which would have been more moving if he hadn’t immediately gone back to digging ice.
Because He Learned Nothing: The Black Bear Sequel
I returned to scouting and issued another warning:
“Be careful—black bear incoming.”
Dave stopped digging. Drew his bow. Crept forward.
You already know how this ends.
Black Bear: 1
Dave: 0
Craig resurrected Dave again.
At this point, we had transitioned from expedition to mobile revival service.
Return to Winchester (Now With Ice and Emotional Damage)
We returned home, loaded the water reservoir, and stocked the ice chest.
Dave, now traumatised by nature, retreated indoors to play with the glass working bench.
He produced reinforced glass windows and doors.
We ran out of materials with eleven gaping window holes in the second storey.
Winchester continues to evolve in ways no one understands.
The Beacon of False Hope
I asked Dave when my encrypted communication beacon would be ready.
I had everything except titanium plates and composites.
We used the fabricator to make the titanium plates.
All that remained was composites.
“How do we make those?” I asked.
Dave opened the Icarus knowledge base.
“Uh huh… got that… got that… we have some of that…”
Pause.
“Oh.”
I gave him the look.
“What do we need?”
“Electricity,” he said. “And an electric metal refiner. And some other thing. And a power substation.”
“So next week then?”
The Mysterious Burning Bridge
We ended the night with what can only be described as a literary masterpiece:
The Famous Five and the Mysterious Burning Bridge
I stepped outside, looked over the lake, and noticed something deeply wrong.
“Who built the busted wooden bridge out over the lake?”
Craig denied everything.
Dave pointed out that he uses stone now, citing the lake walkway as evidence of personal growth.
We went to sleep.
Moments later, Craig woke us:
“Who set my bridge on fire?!”
We looked.
The bridge was not on fire.
Craig insisted it was.
We both streamed.
Craig’s stream: bridge on fire
My stream: perfectly fine
At this point, the possibilities were:
Icarus itself rejecting Craig’s construction
Dave secretly acquiring the flamethrower
Reality giving up
Some mysteries are not meant to be solved.
Lessons Learned (Debatable)
We learnt:
Craig can be trusted with fire
Craig cannot be trusted with construction
A small success goes to Dave’s head, driving logic out
The biofuel composter would work better if Craig stopped stealing the inputs
Achievements
Dave: Thirsty Work, Idiot (killed by a Polar Bear)
Myles: Herding Cats
Craig: For Me (burn down a forest using a flamethrower)
Zaph: Night Off
Next Week
We attempt to install a waterwheel on a lake with no flowing water to generate electricity to power something to make composites so I can unlock harder missions.
Because clearly, what this group needs…
is more complexity.
Footnote: The Bit Dave “Forgot” (Conveniently)
* It should be noted for the official record—since accuracy matters, and Dave’s memory is apparently selective at best—that Dave also forgot to mention the bit where he abandoned me in a mine, left to process the iron ore in the forge—alone—as the night and a storm closed in.
Only to have a Black bear start eating my horse, which required me to single-handedly kill it, because clearly that was now my problem.
Immediately following this, a large spider decided to join the evening’s festivities, which I also killed—again, alone—because teamwork had apparently been cancelled for the night.
At this point, having reached my quota for “unexpected wildlife encounters while unsupervised,” I packed up the ingots and the forge, and headed out into the storm to try and find my way home before dying of exposure.
It was a rough night.
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