Chomp warned me the road ahead was very dangerous. A plan forms. I love sledgehammers, and he has one. I ran on ahead and a Deathclaw, a powerful bi-pedal lizard, appeared. As soon as it was aggroed, I fled back to the prospectors. Chomp, high on adrenaline and Stimpaks, manned up again, running at the scything, ugly beast. There’s a reason it’s called a Deathclaw. It clawed Chomp to death. Weight of numbers brought it down, eventually, but I got in the winning blow with the dead man’s sledgehammer. Life in the Wasteland is hard enough for his team to not begrudge me the prize. I should feel bad, but it’s a really nice sledgehammer.
I never played Fallout 3 as a survivalist. It was too silly. The apocalypse became a playground as I ran around in pyjamas, wearing wig and splatting orcs with a steampunk hammer. New Vegas gave me a sledgehammer in the first hour. I really can’t wait for the next 34.
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