Maybe if I’d had the toilet paper I’d have been more cautious and let them fight each other while I tried to make myself smaller and less shootable? I’ve since stalked around Tarkov as stealthily as the controls will allow. I’m not sure there’s even a lesson in that. I shot at him and missed, the guy I had been tracking dropped back into a room, and the new player shot me in the face. Then the door into the building opened and another played entered. I can feel all those crosshairs converging on me as I type this. What a clumsy idiot I must have been! A walking target, crazily mumbling about commodes. This is how I learned that you really, really need to take your time and plan every step as you hunt for loot. It was like looking at myself many deaths ago. I settled into a prone position and watched, fascinated. I crouched and backed up the corridor as another player emerged. So I backtracked downstairs and froze: half the doors were now open. This is a world with more shotguns than sponge soft shitter sheets.
Escape from tarkov hidden water full#
When I discovered a body pile on the roof it was full of worthless military doodads. I found piles of crap and burnt-out detritus, but no loo roll. I stalked the corridors, cracking doors and checking rooms, closing them as I went, because I was taught to be respectful even during an apocalypse. Dark, claustrophobic, and a place where high-level NPCs spawn. Like dorms everywhere, they’re incredibly unwelcoming. I somehow made it there alive, and snuck in. There’s no guarantee with RNG, but I figured that there was a good chance that I’d uncover my totemic toilet roll in that squat little collection of buildings. Google told me the dorms in the Customs map was a known loot haven. You don’t learn by doing you learn by dying.Īnd using the internet. Death was around every corner, hidden in every shadow, squatting in every bush. It was starting to feel like the only way I would escape would be to load into the level and run straight for an exit. Then I learned that doing the same, but crouching, just made you dead in a more compact position. As I traipsed across the warehouse strewn Customs map, I learned that running full pelt around the map was a sure way to get dead. Stances and speed are adjusted in small degrees. It’s built for stealth, with a control scheme that plays like an accessible Arma. It’s chaos! I chose to focus on that single item, hoping I’d learn the rest of the game by Andrex osmosis.Įach round has a time-limit hanging over you like someone banging on a toilet stall demanding you hurry up, but it’s not a swift game. Looting requires you to take the time to uncover what you’re looking at, leaving you in prime position to be turned into a corpsey lootbox for someone else to rifle through. When you’re asked to Escape-as the title behooves you to do-you need to work out where the unflagged escape routes are (there are in-game maps, but every single person in the community will tell you to use the game’s wiki). So I had a purpose, which was good because it was a rare moment of clarity in a game that thrives on obfuscation. Hygiene is important, especially during an apocalypse, and somehow, somewhere I’d already found some soap. I wanted an armoured vest, and the vendor needed some loo roll and soap alongside payment. Vendors in Tarkov will often require additional items to trade alongside rubles. It was an easily understandable requirement in an otherwise baffling game. In my opening days as a scavenger, a roll of two-ply with a puppy on the wrapper was about all I could focus on. You don’t need to be the last man standing, but you do need to have netted something for your time. It might play a bit like a survival shooter, and it might also feel like a battle royale game, but “winning” is simply a case of getting out of the vast levels with more stuff than you entered with. All the gruff men scouring the levels, with their carefully arranged layers from a tactical Urban Outfitters, are basically popping out for something from the shops/corpses. Though there is no military value in bog roll, Escape From Tarkov thrives on loot. After reeling from the dead I click into Tarkov mode… Someone in that pile might have a roll of toilet paper!
Four, no, five bodies stretch the length of the hall, slumped and discarded. Deep in a rusting warehouse, in a broken Russian state, I scope around a corner and stumble across the site of a massacre.
0 kommentar(er)
