By gamma_male 3 Comments
(A couple of days ago I decided to restart Fallout: New Vegas, play it in Hardcore mode and be as evil as possible while writing down my experiences. The task set has been very enjoyable although I think I may have reached the boundary of just how evil you can be in New Vegas. It's proving to be quite a good writing exercise for me so I'm planning on keeping it up for the foreseeable future. Oh, and there are spoilers in here so if you haven't played the game but plan to, you might want to give this a miss. Part 1 and Part 2 if you wish to catch-up. Enjoy.)
Day 3 - A robot sheriff, legionnaire and the unluckiest lottery winner ever
Margaret Thatcher famously ran the UK government on only four hours of sleep per night. Like her, I want Jonty to be hated to such an extent that he has a website dedicated to whether or not he's dead yet. I wake up at 7am and register isbastardsondeadyet.com.
On the way to Primm, I bump into Barton Thorn, a shifty little scumbag who claims his wife has been trapped on a nearby ridge. I transpires that he has no wife and he just wants me to clear out - what is the collective noun for geckos? – a flange (?) of geckos and collect some loot that he'll then kill me for. Demonstrating incredible foresight bordering on actual psychic ability, I forgo this little charade and shoot him in the back of the head without even talking to him.
On arrival, I make my way to the Bison Steve Hotel to rescue Deputy Beagle. I need to install a tyrannical sheriff to replace a dead one, as well as getting the guys who shot me. I come up against a few convicts but plough through them without any problems. I find Beagle tied up and try to blackmail him into giving me the location of my attackers. My speech skill is too low so I have to release him. We escape the Bison Steve and head over the road to the Vikki and Vance.
Beagle tells me to head over to Novac for information on my attackers then the subject moves on to a new Sheriff. The good guy option was probably killed in the NCRCF attack so I'm left with a choice between the NCR or Primm Slim, a rickety security robot programmed as a tourist information booth. As enticing as martial law is, the NCR seem too much like good guys so I do my best to shaft the town by ensuring it's run by a toy. I talk to Beagle and he isn't happy because he's lost his job. However, generally people are quite happy to have a soulless bucket as their leader. I'm not pleased at all. Once I've levelled up a bit more I shall return to Primm and paint the slot machines with blood. Until then I'll have to take comfort in knowing I've indirectly made someone redundant during a time of economic austerity.
I head to over Nipton, bypassing the NCR outpost, even though I could do with some equipment repairs. I bump into Oliver Swantick who is possibly the most obnoxious character in any game ever. He has “won the lottery” by being the one chosen by the Legion to escape unscathed. I shoot his infuriating four-eyed head off his shoulders. I'm then collared by a scruffy little boy-band wannabe named Tomas. He complains that he's been attacked by a strange woman. I don't give two fucks and demand he hands his caps over. He refuses so I kill him too, but not before I run out of Magnum bullets and shotgun shells. I just manage to finish Tomas off with a varmint rifle but my health is low. I run into a nearby house and spend the next hour or so healing my gunshot wounds with a few bottles of liquorice-y soft-drink. Obviously.
I make my way towards the town hall and find the road lined with crucified Powder Gangers. I'm not impressed by their plight. It's not as if they've been properly nails-through-the-hands-and-feet-crucified. I decide the right to do – and by 'right' I mean 'evil' – would be to shoot them in the knees. Three die. One lives.
A fellow dressed as a Roman soldier named Vulpes Inculta then introduces himself and demands that I tell the nearby towns about the atrocities of the Legion. He proceeds to tell me the tale of how he'd cleared the town. The villagers were rounded up and lectured on their various sinful deeds. Each were given a lottery ticket and their family members executed in front of them. This guy's been getting tips from Jeremy Clarkson. I can't help but tell him that I like his style. I would have done the same thing in his shoes. I probably wouldn't have lectured them on their sins and told them I just found killing them funny but each to their own. Vulpes and I share a knowing look and go our separate ways.
I head to a nearby house and go to bed. I don't believe the previous occupier will miss it. I'm pleased to have made contact with the Legion. It sounds like exactly the kind of gang I should be taking control of and using to inflict tyranny and hardship on the snivelling pond-life of New Vegas.