Day eight in the wasteland.
It’s all over. Cass is dead.
Damningly, I know I could have survived that fight, hopeless as it seemed. In my inventory was a dose of thorazine I found on a dead raider in Sniperton, and if I’d hit the big guy with it, he’d have been paralysed. I could have cleaned up the smaller ones and either run for it or grenaded him to death.
But alas, even in death, hindsight is 20/20. Even if I had lived, I would be alone, injured, and barely able to walk, much less fight. There was nothing in any direction for miles, save for wild animals and god knows what kind of bandits and monsters. I am disappointed. I am frustrated with myself, and saddened that Cass is dead.
To tell you the truth, I was tempted to play on. I agonised over a sneaky reload and a redoing of that fight. I could have jabbed the big guy! I would have fought better without the distraction of screenshots and videos! I only left town so soon because I didn’t want this blog to be boring! I don’t want this to end so soon, I’m having too much fun, and have barely established an audience!
But no. I knew that it was wrong. If I’d broken my biggest rule it would ruin this, and the very reason this was so tense and Cass so important was because she had but one life.
So what have I learned? Well, I’ve learned that with the right mods, Fallout 3 is transformed. It’s bloody terrifying, and even more harsh a struggle to survive than I’d anticipated. The typically neglected skills become rather important – I’d even say that Barter, the universally crap RPG skill, may be worth tagging on a similar character. The sheer scarcity forces you to buy more, and at 10 caps a bullet and 170 per stimpack… well, you saw what happened to Cass.
Unarmed saved my skin too, not least as ammunition was so scarce I barely had enough rounds to fill a pistol all week.
This was a game all about decisions, and it was my decisions that killed Cass. Using my shotgun instead of my fists. Going behind that desk proved useless. Entering the powerplant at all was a mistake. Going north instead of back to megaton was a mistake. Dashing across the road to ambush the sniper. Entering sniperton. Not investigating the scrapyard. Leaving town at all. Walking off instead of saving up for a caravan escort.
All small mistakes. Any one of them alone would have been fine, but the combination of them all did me in. Such is life. Experience is the name we give to our mistakes.
I’m glad I did this. I was very attached to Cass, and I may quietly play on with her in a parallel dimension. I’ll certainly be playing more Fallout and FWE, but am undecided on whether to share those adventures on this blog. Perhaps I will, alongside the next story.
I have another, similar project already lined up, involving a very different, much more obscure game, but one I will enjoy, and hope you will too. If anyone has been lurking, please do let me know your thoughts. I hope you’ve had fun, and rest assured there’s plenty more to come.
Ultimately, despite her premature end, I take comfort in knowing that Cass died the way she would have wanted to – surrounded by the bodies of her enemies and a pile of exhausted guns and bullet casings, her fists swinging defiant, death-dealing blows to the very end, and of course lonely.
Lonely as a mushroom cloud.