I needed Necropolis's water chip. I was at the pump's location, but I forgot the parts/tools or something that I needed to fix it so they wouldn't need the chip anymore. I thought to myself that I would just take it and come right back (within a few days due to travel time) so all the ghouls wouldn't die. So that's what I did. I brought the chip back to vault 13, got kicked out, and rushed back to Necropolis to fix the water system. When I got there, most of the ghouls were already dead and the ones still alive were pissed and came at me. I ran away and never came back. Oops. The end.
Your Fallout stories
- Thread starter zombiejoe
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Well, there IS my own mod I'm developing, but that's not really quite a story...I use a heavily-modded version of FO3, to include "Return of the Settler", the "Manchester/Tiger" quests, "enlarged" versions of Megaton, Big Town and Canterbury Commons, and top it off with "Alternate Roleplay".
So...my story?
I've led a failed life as a talker, rather than a fighter, trying to get people in the D.C. Wasteland to pool their resources and skills together to make something more lasting and worthwhile. There's a caravan network and some significant towns already, of course, but so much MORE could be done if...if if if. Almost everyone was still too mired in the fight for daily survival to talk about the long haul.
It was a rotten world for a would-be politician, really. It drove me to drink.
There I lay, having blown nearly all my caps on a let's-go-out-in-debauchery batch of piss-poor whiskey, wearing my finest old business suit and sunglasses amid a pile of empty bottles. I'd hoped I wasn't going to wake up after that binge, but no such luck...the noonday glare seared my eyeballs even through their closed lids.
It's a funny thing about being hung over; you want to just lay there until you die, but in the meantime merely existing sucks. I decided that I should at least drag my carcass into some shade to reduce my internal pain to a manageable level until the end drew nigh. But of course, once you start moving around, you've broken the spell.
The hot, cracked asphalt burned my hands, forcing a hiss from between my teeth. It was going to be less painful to walk than crawl to the blessed cover of a nearby ranch house, so I stood uneasily, staggered a few steps...and was promptly bowled over onto my ass by a damn pack brahmin. I cursed uncreatively for several moments, until I realized someone was standing over me...his presence providentially providing a bit of the shade I longed for.
"Whoa, there. Sorry about old Bess knocking you down. Here, it's the least I can do."
He extended a hand, I took it, he looked me up and down. "You look like you've been around, stranger. Me and my friends here," and here he gestured to a pair of fellow travellers, "we're looking for a place to settle down. Know anywhere we might find someplace worth the trouble?"
That was how it all started, honest Injun...whatever an "Injun" is, or was. I led those first few settlers from the outskirts of Big Town, where they'd found me waiting to die, to another life just south of Canterbury Commons. I'd already met and talked to Uncle Roe, the guy who ran the place as a hub for the caravanners, and with the new guys in tow I helped him out with a couple of jokers who called themselves the "AntAgonist" and "Mechanist".
The job set us up with a small pile of caps as well as a newly-vacated pre-war electronics supermart. It was big inside, the Mechanist had made it his own home beforehand, and there was plenty of useful machinery too. Not to mention a big parking lot on top of a natural plateau with only two ways up...very defensible.
Over the next few weeks, our town began to take shape. I spent most of my time, at first, scrounging around the place for junk and scrap, then using it to get shelters and some initial sandbag walls put up. It wasn't much, but then we didn't have to deal with much other than the occasional critter wandering through.
When we'd gotten settled in, I decided to make a run to Megaton to sell off some of the better junk we'd found and raise some caps. That led me to Moira Brown and her crazy ideas for this book she was writing, a showdown between Sheriff Simms and an even crazier guy who called himself "Mister Burke", and a young girl named Lucy West.
...and the funny thing? Everyone seemed to think I was the spitting younger-image of this guy who crawled out of a nearby Vault. If I'd known how much pain, heartache and stupidity THAT was going to cause...well. On second thought, I prolly wouldn't be here today writing at this terminal, would I.
So...my story?
I've led a failed life as a talker, rather than a fighter, trying to get people in the D.C. Wasteland to pool their resources and skills together to make something more lasting and worthwhile. There's a caravan network and some significant towns already, of course, but so much MORE could be done if...if if if. Almost everyone was still too mired in the fight for daily survival to talk about the long haul.
It was a rotten world for a would-be politician, really. It drove me to drink.
There I lay, having blown nearly all my caps on a let's-go-out-in-debauchery batch of piss-poor whiskey, wearing my finest old business suit and sunglasses amid a pile of empty bottles. I'd hoped I wasn't going to wake up after that binge, but no such luck...the noonday glare seared my eyeballs even through their closed lids.
It's a funny thing about being hung over; you want to just lay there until you die, but in the meantime merely existing sucks. I decided that I should at least drag my carcass into some shade to reduce my internal pain to a manageable level until the end drew nigh. But of course, once you start moving around, you've broken the spell.
The hot, cracked asphalt burned my hands, forcing a hiss from between my teeth. It was going to be less painful to walk than crawl to the blessed cover of a nearby ranch house, so I stood uneasily, staggered a few steps...and was promptly bowled over onto my ass by a damn pack brahmin. I cursed uncreatively for several moments, until I realized someone was standing over me...his presence providentially providing a bit of the shade I longed for.
"Whoa, there. Sorry about old Bess knocking you down. Here, it's the least I can do."
He extended a hand, I took it, he looked me up and down. "You look like you've been around, stranger. Me and my friends here," and here he gestured to a pair of fellow travellers, "we're looking for a place to settle down. Know anywhere we might find someplace worth the trouble?"
That was how it all started, honest Injun...whatever an "Injun" is, or was. I led those first few settlers from the outskirts of Big Town, where they'd found me waiting to die, to another life just south of Canterbury Commons. I'd already met and talked to Uncle Roe, the guy who ran the place as a hub for the caravanners, and with the new guys in tow I helped him out with a couple of jokers who called themselves the "AntAgonist" and "Mechanist".
The job set us up with a small pile of caps as well as a newly-vacated pre-war electronics supermart. It was big inside, the Mechanist had made it his own home beforehand, and there was plenty of useful machinery too. Not to mention a big parking lot on top of a natural plateau with only two ways up...very defensible.
Over the next few weeks, our town began to take shape. I spent most of my time, at first, scrounging around the place for junk and scrap, then using it to get shelters and some initial sandbag walls put up. It wasn't much, but then we didn't have to deal with much other than the occasional critter wandering through.
When we'd gotten settled in, I decided to make a run to Megaton to sell off some of the better junk we'd found and raise some caps. That led me to Moira Brown and her crazy ideas for this book she was writing, a showdown between Sheriff Simms and an even crazier guy who called himself "Mister Burke", and a young girl named Lucy West.
...and the funny thing? Everyone seemed to think I was the spitting younger-image of this guy who crawled out of a nearby Vault. If I'd known how much pain, heartache and stupidity THAT was going to cause...well. On second thought, I prolly wouldn't be here today writing at this terminal, would I.
First ever playthrough. When on my way to the Super Dupa Mart I heard gunshots and assumed it was just the Raiders going up against an Eyebot or something. I rounded the corner to see a Death Claw standing over a fallen Wastelander. Fortunately it was half dead and was quickly wiped out afterwards. Fun times.
i think i play too much fallout.
i killed everybody, stole everything and now there are no more stimpacks in the capital wasteland or anything else that worth taking, i completly destroyed the fallout economy because nobody can find things in the wasteland to sell to the only living vender harkness because i own EVERYTHING!!!!the only money left is the unlimited $ in the citidel for cameras and sensor modules
also once when fighting a radscorpian it hit me and the blood on the left hand corner of the screen was making my "vision" blurry so i tried to wipe it off MY face. if that is not immersion i dont know what is!!!!
final note i 1 shot deathclaws but feral goul revers still piss me off
i killed everybody, stole everything and now there are no more stimpacks in the capital wasteland or anything else that worth taking, i completly destroyed the fallout economy because nobody can find things in the wasteland to sell to the only living vender harkness because i own EVERYTHING!!!!the only money left is the unlimited $ in the citidel for cameras and sensor modules
also once when fighting a radscorpian it hit me and the blood on the left hand corner of the screen was making my "vision" blurry so i tried to wipe it off MY face. if that is not immersion i dont know what is!!!!
final note i 1 shot deathclaws but feral goul revers still piss me off
I was exploring randomly. Still low level, best gun was hunting rifle, and I happened upon Old Olney. Had to reload from an earlier point...
Fallout 1 - Tried playing and hated it. Gave it a second chance, thoroughly enjoyed it, although the time limit meant that side quests were limited to how easy and quick they were. So I probably missed out some interesting things.
Fallout 2 - Was apprehensive of starting off as a "Tribal" person, it seemed out of place. Enjoyed the game more than the first to start with but have had 3 game breaking bugs screw me over to the point where I consider just giving up (I even have the Restoration Project installed).
First my car disappeared straight after me buying it.
Secondly I stole, got away with it. Then started getting shot by a guard who was okay ten seconds before.
Thirdly, 3 NCR guards shoot me for no reason. The rest are okay until the others start shooting. It happens to be the three near the fucking exit.
Fallout 3 - Easily my favourite, although the lack of humour and detailed NPC interaction is saddening (especially the hilarious flirting). I have been an explosive expert who became a member of Reilly's Rangers. A stealthy Ninja who no enemy ever saw (100 Sneak plus Chinese stealth Armour obtained at the start) as well as many others.
Bring on New Vegas.
Fallout 2 - Was apprehensive of starting off as a "Tribal" person, it seemed out of place. Enjoyed the game more than the first to start with but have had 3 game breaking bugs screw me over to the point where I consider just giving up (I even have the Restoration Project installed).
First my car disappeared straight after me buying it.
Secondly I stole, got away with it. Then started getting shot by a guard who was okay ten seconds before.
Thirdly, 3 NCR guards shoot me for no reason. The rest are okay until the others start shooting. It happens to be the three near the fucking exit.
Fallout 3 - Easily my favourite, although the lack of humour and detailed NPC interaction is saddening (especially the hilarious flirting). I have been an explosive expert who became a member of Reilly's Rangers. A stealthy Ninja who no enemy ever saw (100 Sneak plus Chinese stealth Armour obtained at the start) as well as many others.
Bring on New Vegas.
i amlost forgot ive crashed fallout 4 times and now Asher is a zombie he has no head and is missing his left arm has both eyes part of his brain and jaw floating about a foot above where his neck is ripped from his head and he walks around his office in hellfire armor and if i shoot his head in vats the shot just goes insane and does nothing at all
also 250 hours after the distruction of megaton im walking around the empty underworld for some reason when i see sticking out of a wall a locker labeled Craterside supply now everybody in megaton died befor i blew it up so that lady never became a goul so why is it there
p.s. I have played fallout on the xbox 360 not the computer
also 250 hours after the distruction of megaton im walking around the empty underworld for some reason when i see sticking out of a wall a locker labeled Craterside supply now everybody in megaton died befor i blew it up so that lady never became a goul so why is it there
p.s. I have played fallout on the xbox 360 not the computer
Well, if we can count all games in the Fallout series, I got one for the first game, just to show how awsome the Vault Dweller is. At least in my game....
While in The Hub, I take a job for the caravans, looking for some lost ones when I came across the dreaded Deathclaw. Unfortantly, to prove my manliness, I had forgone my weapons and relied purely on my own two fists, becoming a puglist of the wastes. To that point, I had happily punched giant rats and the occational raider to their deaths, but here I was in a real pickle. I was armed only with my favorite set of brass knuckles and a tough, albeit spartan, piece of leather armor I pulled of a dead gang member in Junktown. My only companion was my faithful canine friend Dogmeat, my other companions having fallen to a lucky raider attack before arriving. And he was either too afraid or had found an interesting piece of rock to sniff, so I was on my own. Faced with a desprate situation, I downed a dose Buffout and Psycho, narrowly avoiding addiction and becoming a 5'9" incarnation of The Hulk. The Deathclaw and I traded blows, many of mine missing. However, either because of the drugs or my own toughness, the 'claw did little to no damage, never needing a single Stimpak the entire fight. Then, out of the blue, I land one lucky punch, killing it and taking it's entire upper half with it, (Bloody Mess). That's right, I punched a Deathclaw in half, with my own two hands!
Let that go to show you, you don't always need fancy Small Guns to get you through every mess.
While in The Hub, I take a job for the caravans, looking for some lost ones when I came across the dreaded Deathclaw. Unfortantly, to prove my manliness, I had forgone my weapons and relied purely on my own two fists, becoming a puglist of the wastes. To that point, I had happily punched giant rats and the occational raider to their deaths, but here I was in a real pickle. I was armed only with my favorite set of brass knuckles and a tough, albeit spartan, piece of leather armor I pulled of a dead gang member in Junktown. My only companion was my faithful canine friend Dogmeat, my other companions having fallen to a lucky raider attack before arriving. And he was either too afraid or had found an interesting piece of rock to sniff, so I was on my own. Faced with a desprate situation, I downed a dose Buffout and Psycho, narrowly avoiding addiction and becoming a 5'9" incarnation of The Hulk. The Deathclaw and I traded blows, many of mine missing. However, either because of the drugs or my own toughness, the 'claw did little to no damage, never needing a single Stimpak the entire fight. Then, out of the blue, I land one lucky punch, killing it and taking it's entire upper half with it, (Bloody Mess). That's right, I punched a Deathclaw in half, with my own two hands!
Let that go to show you, you don't always need fancy Small Guns to get you through every mess.
The salver looks demented so he could play around with the slaves in very interesting ways. He could do test and stuff. Maybe a quiz for items.Nitpicker of the Wastes said:
You should add a vote at the end and whoever gets the most votes dies. That way the group tries to make friendship and empty promises.Nitpicker of the Wastes said:
I was the legendary sniper who took down Evergreen Mills with a Sniper Rifle (acquired from Crowley) and 20 rounds (scavenged from the Bethesda Ruins). My mythical perception and intelligence meant I picked out every target. First two shots took down slave pen owners (one of them even fell into the slave pen!) third shot hit the generator on the behemoths cage. He got out and smashed the poor raiders while I picked off those clever enough to flee. I then dropped down off the cliffs and onto a shack roof. Snuck inside while the behemoth was still alive outside and wasn't even noticed until I showed myself to Smiling Jack (already pickpocketed all his caps) he repaired my sniper rifle (with the caps I stole from him XD) then I killed him and everyone else inside with the 'Terrible Shotgun' and came back out - The Behemoth was still alive and alone now he'd killed everyone else. Hit me and nearly killed me (nearly no points in Endurance and wearing light armour) one desparate hipfire sniper shot got him in the head which exploded and he died.
I faded away into the night......
Oh and later I was confronted by a 'mugger' who demanded my caps. Staring down a sawn off shotgun double-barrel I plucked up the courage to tell the poor soul his gun wasn't even loaded. As he walked away in shame I shot him in the back and dumped his body in the Potomac.
I faded away into the night......
Oh and later I was confronted by a 'mugger' who demanded my caps. Staring down a sawn off shotgun double-barrel I plucked up the courage to tell the poor soul his gun wasn't even loaded. As he walked away in shame I shot him in the back and dumped his body in the Potomac.