Fallout 3 Editorials
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Go! Gaming Giant tells us why the PC version is the way to go:
When the PC version of Fallout 3 was released Bethesda also released a very handy tool called The G.E.C.K. Being exclusive to the PC version, The G.E.C.K allowed users to edit, modify and create just about anything in the game. Imagine having a great game in front of you and the tools to easily change or create anything you want to be in the game.
The community loved it. Within weeks people had created entire new lands, new weapons, new characters etc. It was like a virtual playground. People could make their own games centered around a game they already loved, Fallout 3. Some people created their own game modes. Ever tried to play Fallout 3 as an RTS? What about in a Nazi Zombie type mode? These things exist. Tired of looking at the dreary Big Town, no problem, install a mod that adds grass and colour to the city and makes it look like something from paradise. Some of the mods and creations people produced were absolutely fantastic. There were no limits to what people could do, hell someone even made a mod that allowed you to fly through the Wasteland.
Straight.com explains why all five DLC packs are worth your money:
Fallout 3 hit shelves on October 28, 2008. The final chapter of the game, Mothership Zeta, found its way onto the Xbox Live service on August 3, 2009. In October, a Game of the Year edition of the boxed game, which includes the main game and all five downloadable pieces, comes out on PC, PS3, and Xbox 360.
Publisher Bethesda, meanwhile, collected $70 for every copy of the main game sold, and an additional $10 for each extra chapter. A total of $120 from the likes of me.
But you know what? It was worth it.
And then Crispy Gamer tells us why the aliens of Mothership Zeta deserve to be wiped out:
Recorded Log 9 is among the shortest of a couple dozen tapes you can discover on the aliens' ship. It contains the terrified last words of an unnamed woman who falls victim to a genetic experiment. Aside from an undertone of perversion ("What's that thing? Get it out of me!"), there's nothing unusual about it. The closing is what struck me. As the woman on the tape succumbs to the alien assault, she makes a helpless plea for her life, along the lines of "Please stop, no, that hurts..."
It's a generic damsel-in-distress script. Yet something about the confusion and panic in the audio clicked me into vengeance mode. The gun was in my hands. And while the perpetrators of the horrors on the recording were gone, those Workmen were a fitting proxy. So I acted, and not even rashly. I pulled up my V.A.T.S. display to pinpoint where my blaster would separate the pathetic, obnoxious, squeaking Alien Workmen from their skulls. "These men weren't complicit in the atrocities on that tape," I reasoned as my first shot reduced Utterly Harmless Alien Dude No. 1 to a pile of ash. "They've shown me no ill will," I considered as a slow-mo blaster beam split the face of Just Want to Go Home to My Wife and Kids No. 2 down the middle.
