The Old Grind
Posted: June 20, 2012 Filed under: Dungeons and Dragons, rules 2 Comments
I was reading Paul’s “Quickly, Quietly, Carefully” blog recently where he was posting about treasure and XP. Paul was looking at a published dungeon and pondering how much XP could be gathered from it in the form of XP for monsters, gold, etc., and whether or not that would be enough to raise the average party to the appropriate level for the next dungeon or adventure and it made me think a bit on of one of the staples of the old school games that seems to have fallen out of favor with many contemporary players… a little thing we call “The Grind.”
“The Grind” is where you have to earn x amount of experience points in order to advance in power so you can advance to greater challenges. The adventurer’s desire for more power turns him/her/it into a little XP whore who may start killing everything and looting everything just to earn the needed XP for ‘one more level.’ This can seem dull and mechanical, hence the term, ‘the grind.’
And ‘grinds’ seem to have fallen out of favor, at least in gaming circles I am in touch with. I used to count up every monster killed, treasure found, etc., after the session and calculate it all up, then divide it by the number of participants (with NPCs getting 1/2 share) and then letting everyone know how many XP they had at the start of the next session. I was never particularly good at (or fond of) math, but I remember enjoying this bit of book keeping, maybe because it made me feel like the rewards (XP) were not handed out by me via some system where the DM gives the players XP like some nobleman distributing favors to his courtiers. I liked to establish rules (you will get XP for X, Y and Z) and players knew the rules and would get whatever XP they earn.
One of the arguments against the grind is that it can lead to ridiculous situations in which players will notice they are just a handful of XP away from gaining a level and will then wander around looking for some weak little monster to kill so they can earn the last few XP they need to level up. Many groups of players I am familiar with simplify or handwave the process — “everyone earns X number of XP per session” or “You level up every X number of sessions,” etc. I understand why people would want to do of this: less book keeping and the rules for XP seem somewhat arbitrary (i.e.: 1 xp per gold piece FREX). I also remember the silly players in my teenage group (myself included) would do in order to earn the XP needed. I seem to remember a debate as to whether or not fireballing a herd of sheep would earn the handful of XP needed to push a character over the threshold…
However, the ‘levelling up by DM decree’ or ‘everybody gets XP just for showing up’ can also feel like the race where everyone gets a trophy no matter when they finish. One loses the feeling of accomplishment you get when your little hero earns just enough to hit the next level. When you have had to scrabble for every point, a ‘level up’ can feel like a real accomplishment.
Mob Rule
Posted: June 20, 2012 Filed under: bitching, douchebaggery, ideas 3 CommentsI was reading J.R. IV’s post, “In Case Anyone is Unclear,” over on his blog this morning. I wanted to comment there, but comments are disabled, so I’ll do it here.
I don’t know what ‘shit storms’ James is talking about (perhaps something on Google+ ?*), but I believe that reading (or writing) a book like Lolita does not make you a pedophile any more than singing the words of ‘The National Anthem’ makes you a patriot. Prometheus and Humans
Posted: June 19, 2012 Filed under: movies 1 CommentThe internets have been ablaze with white-hot nerd rage over Ridley Scott’s movie,’Prometheus.’ “Absurd and unrealistic,” the masses cry. “Geologists getting lost? Never going to happen! People taking their helmets off on another planet when the risks are obvious? Nobody could be that stupid! Completely destroyed of my suspension of disbelief!” And etc., etc., etc. and so forth.
As far as “people being stupid” is unrealistic, well, given the evidence that surrounds us — constant, non stop stupidity, I’m surprised that we expect fictional people to be smarter than actual people. In the real world you see people crowding around those concrete ashtrays with cigarettes outside of hospitals. I wonder how many of those smokers are going to go take care of cancer patients after their smoke break? If you didn’t think the eidence was clear that humanity is a pretty self deluding species, consider this: Burger King thinks a bacon sundae is a good idea. And then there are those three words that prove that humanity is just smart enough to get itself into all kinds of complicated messes but not smart enough to get out of those same messes: sub-prime mortgage crisis.
And as far as geologists getting lost in tunnels, well, I can completely buy that. NASA spent 125 million dollars on a Mars probe in 1999 that failed because one team was doing calculations in metric while the other was doing calculations in miles and quarts and pounds. I would have thought someone at NASA would have asked, “What does this ‘km’ after this number mean?” or something similar before they sent 125 million up into space, but apparently not.
And a helmet isn’t going to help you anyway:
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| Fred Phelp’s nightmare. |
Entertain Me
Posted: June 18, 2012 Filed under: art, creativity, movies Leave a comment
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| Not a scene from Prometheus… this is a parasite in some dude’s eyeball |
Due to a combination of getting a new day job (been on it since May 2nd so it still feels new)… and this being gardening season (so I’m doing a some work outside on the garden — and, yes, it is a garden since we are growing food and flowers and not grass and shrubs) plus some commissions, I’ve been pretty busy and the blogs have been languishing a bit. I’ve closed the other ‘word press’ blog down for now just to reduce the number of things I am ignoring, intending a re-design. I don’t know when I’ll get to that… if I never do, no big loss. Since I’ve been ignoring the blogs and haven’t been writing anything controversial or interesting anyway, my readership seems to have plunged, so I guess the world can afford to wait.
I never know how much to say about commissions I have been working on. If it is for a published product, I think it is probably best to let the publisher make the first announcement, and, once they do, I’ll try to make a mention of it here. I think I can say that there are some crowdfunding projects I have been associated with that are bearing fruit and others that are not without stepping on any toes. There are also some new adventures and things coming out of Goodman Games that I have been working on (some for DCC game, others not specifically aligned with DCC but more ‘general game freak interest’ things).
I have a bunch of artwork I would love to put in the etsy shop, but have been having trouble even imagining first matching scans and prices and sizes and descriptions with artwork, then loading all that info up on Etsy, then packing it all and shipping it out… taken by themselves, each of those tasks seems tiny, but you add ‘em all up and start wondering where your break-even point is as far as hours and aggravation spent versus dollars obtained.
This brings me to a problem. I like a lot of ‘bubblegum’ movies for what they are… thrills and action and near-mindless entertainment… so it seems unfair to compare ‘John Carter’ with ‘Prometheus’ simply because Prometheus was much more ambitious in its storytelling. And, honestly, the only reason I think to compare them are the fact that they are both ‘sci-fi’ and we happened to see them both on the same weekend. In the end, ‘John Carter’ failed for me because after the first 30 minutes I was willing to turn it off, whereas halfway through Prometheus I had to go to the bathroom but didn’t want to leave the theatre because I didn’t want to miss any of it. And I guess that was the key difference between the two films for me. One of them left me not caring whether or not I saw it and the other had me wanting to see the whole thing. Maybe thats the thing I want from art/entertainment/whatever. I want it to be like an addictive drug. I want it to make me keep wanting it.
Things I learned from Fallout 3
Posted: June 15, 2012 Filed under: Uncategorized 2 CommentsThings I learned from Fallout 3:
A bomb made from a child’s lunch box, an explosive fruit, 10 bottle caps and something called a ‘sensor module’ is a lot more deadly than a ‘frag mine’ manufactured according to military grade specs.
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| “Rock-it” Launcher. |
A weapon called a ‘rock-it launcher’ is made from the spare parts of a leaf blower and a vacuum cleaner and fires teddy bears, pool balls, books, boxes of detergent, coffee cups, empty whiskey bottles, etc. It is a lot more effective than most pistols if you goal is to kill your opponent. I shot a raider in the forehead with a 10mm pistol and he cursed at me and stabbed me with his knife. I had to shoot him several more times before he went down. I then used my rock-it launcher to shoot his buddy in the face with a box of detergent and his buddy’s head exploded.
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| Super Mutant head shot |
If you shoot someone and they explode into fragments, you only need to find one fragment, no matter how tiny, and search THAT fragment in order to retrieve all of their possessions. There was a raider up on a balcony shooting at me, so I shot him with my hunting rifle. His head exploded and I found an eyeball lying on the ground. I ‘searched’ the eyeball and was able to retrieve his weapons, his ammo, his armor, etc. Later I went up on the balcony and found his headless body lying there, dressed only in his boxer shorts and a t-shirt.
The ‘Fat Boy’ will allow you to launch miniature nuclear bombs, which is great fun. You can use your Fat boy to kill a whole mess of raiders all at once and scatter their broken bodies all over the landscape, but the Fatboy will not blow a rotted wooden door off of its hinges, shatter an empty whiskey bottle or kill a child.
Some things look like weapons and ARE weapons. Other things look like weapons and are not weapons. You can hit an enemy with a tire iron, pool cue, baseball bat or sledgehammer and hurt or kill them. You cannot injure or hit an enemy with an ordinary hammer, wrench, crutch or frying pan (unless you are firing these things from the aforementioned rock-it launcher).
Reading a comic book will make you better at smashing your enemies with a baseball bat. Reading a book about Nikolai Tesla will make you better at shooting them with laser guns.
When I fire my weapons, I can see the brass cartridges fly out of the gun and land on the ground. Then they quickly evaporate.
Raiders are bad-guys who look like those dudes from the ‘Mad Max’ movies. They have mohawks and wear S&M armor outfits that consist of leather straps, codpieces, spiked shoulder pads, etc., and this raider armor leaves most of their torso bare. If you kill a raider and take his/her armor, you will suddenly see him/her lying on the ground wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, even though previous to you removing their ‘armor’ all they had covering their chest was a few straps and maybe a metal bra-like thing if they were female. So, somehow, mysteriously, between the time you killed them and the time you took their armor, they somehow managed to put on a white t-shirt, despite being dead at the time.
I’d be flattered if they used my noggin…
Posted: June 15, 2012 Filed under: Uncategorized Leave a comment![]() |
| It’s not as if he used it much anyway. |
HBOs “Game of Thrones” apparently featured a scene where a mask of George W. Bush’s head (43rd US president) appears briefly as a prop head of some poor unfortunate who has been executed and had his head impaled on a stick (one of the few historical accuracies to make it into “Game of Thrones.” I’m no historian, but even I know that heads ending up on sticks happened a LOT in the past).
How they recognized G.W. in that ratted out hair-band wig is beyond me, but politicians and pundits from the right side of the aisle have reacted with the easily predicted outrage whereas the ‘less to the right’ Dems (I hesitate to call them ‘the left’ since they really don’t fit the definition) have said nothing — I’m sure they would be squeaking in outrage if Bill Clinton’s or Obama’s noggin had also appeared on a stake. HBO has promised to excise the head from future pressings and ‘not do it again.’
No spoilers please. I never watch anything in real time and have only watched a couple of these on disc… I think I’m on episode 5 or 7 or so. Sean Bean is in prison. That skinny wierdo who sold his sister to the horseclans leader as a bride just got killed by having a pot of melted gold poured on his head. The dwarf from “The Station Agent” has just had a chilly reunion with his prick of a dad. There’s something with some creepy “Leche society” queen and her weirdo son. Somebody lost a sword fight and fell through a hole in the floor. Things are not right in the frozen north. And that’s all I know.
Episode 01: DCC RPG
Posted: June 1, 2012 Filed under: campaigns, DCC RPG, Goodman Leave a comment
Episode 1, Session 1: The Portal Beneath the Stars
Good Evening and welcome to Jon’s Dungeon Crawl Classics Campaign. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we will be entering ‘the funnel.’ The basic premise of ‘the funnel’ is that each player generates a handful of 0 level mooks and those that survive get to become actual characters. We had a fullhouse; Dave M., Dave P., Mike C., Mike D., Reuben, Kevin S. and me (in addition to Jon C. as DM) and each player had 3 characters rolled up… so that means we were starting with 21 zero level characters! Needless to say, I don’t remember most of their names.
Some of the players(like Dave M.) had appropriate figures picked out to represent their mooks on the battle mat; others used small plastic tiles marked with cryptic hieroglyphics (Mike D had a beer stein, a pair of buttocks and what was eithersome pasta or waves drawn on his tiles) or initials and numbers for identification,so game 1 was a bit of a clusterfuck… but that was how it was supposed to be. So goodnight, good bye and good luck — you will need it… (warning: long and chaotic story follows)
I can’t tell you much about anyone else, but I can tell you about my characters. I started off with Slobodan the Beekeeper (yes, I rolled ‘beekeeper’ on a chart so it is officialand everything) who was armed with a jar of honey and a hammer, Gregor Samsa the Elven artisan who had a staff and a lump of clay and Marlowe the elven candlemaker who had 20 candles and a pair of scissors. With our 18 assorted companions (who included peasants, a butcher, a wainwright, at least one noble, a tax collector, and an outlaw and who knows what else and were variously armed with a pushcart, a sheep, a chicken, pitchfortks, glass beads and other random things), we were attending the bedside of one of the stalwarts of the village who was drawing his last breaths. From his deathbed, old man Roberts pointed a shaking finger out the window at the rarely seen ‘Emptystar’ in the sky and wheezed that many years ago, when he was just a young shaver, he had seen that fateful star in the sky in the vicinity of an old monument near the old stone mounds… a gate had opened up to another world — a gate that gave access to treasure and danger, but Roberts was too afraid to pass through… much to his regret, for he had to spend the next 50-60 years plowing the soil and shoveling pig shit just to barely get by… if he had taken the risk, perhaps he would have gotten rich. Now the star had reappeared but he was too old… gasp, choke, cough, mumble grumble…
We of course set off immediately for the old stone moundsand found the monument since we were familiar with the area. The monument in question looked like a stone arch without wall or door; it was an ancient thing and no one knew its purpose since it predated the village.However, today the gate looked different. Instead of being just a pile of stones with a hole in it big enough to walk through like a very modestly scaled and unornamented Arc de Triomphe, we could now see an extradimensional stone hallway through the old stone gate instead of the mounds and grass one normally might expect to see. At the end of the hall was a door. Eagerly, we butchers, bakers and candlemakers crowded in, elbowing each other out of the way in our eagerness to get rich.
The door did not budge to our gentle prodding but we did note a few small chips of gemstone embedded in the surface of the wood. One of the more well educated of our number noted that the gemstones were arranged in an order similar to the stars of the night sky… and, if one were patient, the stars ought to assume exactly this position in relation to ‘The Empty Star’later this very evening. Not content with waiting, BigShitz the dwarf (I’m not sure that was really his name — it sounded something like that) and Lenny tried to force the door. There was a flash of light and the smell of brimstone and one of them (I think it was Lenny the wainwright) fell dead on the floor; burned to death by some sort of fire trap. Lance said, “I could have told you that was going to happen,” in a nasal voice.
But the door was open and we could see a room where 4 statues dressed in lacquered armor holding spears stood flanking a door. As we strolled through the doorway, statues began chucking spears and those who were not killed gained spears which were much superior weapons when compared to our butter churns or bedwarming pans or whatever else we were armed with. Mooks named Marcellus, Mallikar and Othellus get either knicked by or killed with spears… Markbar the glassblower gets impaled as well…Lance said, “I could have told you that was going to happen,” in a nasal voice. But all I remember is that my three mooks are in the back so by the time I get to the doorway, the statues are out of spears to throw. Unfortunately for us, they are also out of spears to loot, but Slobodan, Gregor Samsa and Marlowe notice that the armor on the statues looks real… and we begin undoing straps and removing the armor to wear ourselves. It’s a bit bulky and musty but it fits!
Meanwhile, the rest of the group has proceeded through the next door, driven forward by greed despite the death of 2 or 3 so far (this just means we will have to split the treasure fewer ways, right?). This is a large square room with a door in each wall and a tall statue of a barbarian with a broadsword and a grimoire standing in one corner. The statue is of obvious ancient origin, and, although crude in execution, Gregor Samsa the artisan has to admit that it had a certain barbaric vitality and the sculpture was obviously quite old, but, at more than 30 feet in height, it is not portable enough to be considered treasure. Ptath the apprentice went to investigate the sculpture and try to read the runes engraved upon the stone statue’s grimoire while Bigshitz sniffs around for gold or jewels. A few scorched patches are observed on thefloor by Ptath but he chooses not to share this information. Bigshitz then opens one of the doors other than the one we just came in from and the statue turns on its base and fires agout of flame from its hand, burning the dwarf to death. “Alas poor Bigshitz; I knew him not at all,” Marlowe muttered as he appropriated the late dwarf’s pitchfork. Lance said, “I could have told you that was going to happen,” in a nasalvoice.
After a few more doors are tried and a few more mooks are scorched, Tor and Vos (both noblemen) decide that the statue can’t point in two places at once and both try to open and jump through doors at the opposite ends of the room simultaneously. The statue spins quickly, both Tor and Vos make it through with only slight scorching. Slobodon the Beekeeper, who is standing to one side minding his own business, gets caught in a stray gout of flame and dies a horrible death, illustrating perfectly the noble-commoner relationship. The nobles do whatever the fuck they want andthe commoners die because of it. Lance said, “I could have told you that was going to happen,” in a nasal voice.
Vos finds himself in a musty crypt with seven niches filledwith crumbling bones. He notes withinterest that there are armor and weapons mounted on the walls and the bonesseem to be moving! The bones are old andbrittle and don’t move very well, but start crawling towards him in a menacingmanner. A skull bites him and Vosdecides he has had enough and retreats, somehow surviving the firetrap. The bones do not follow. Lance said, “I couldhave told you that was going to happen,” in a nasal voice.
Another gout of flame kills Mosair the elven glassblower. KreglarPoagseeker scavenges a hammer from the corpse of the beekeeper and attempts topound a spike into the seam between the base of the statue and the floor in order to keep it from spinning. This spike was previously the property of Lenny (I think?) but then appropriated by Gregor Samsa. After a promising start,the Poagseeker manages to bend the spike beyond usefulness and returns it toSamsa with a shrug. Lance said, “I could have told you that was going tohappen,” in a nasal voice.
Tor, meanwhile, managed to get into a short hallway thatended in another door. Eager for fameand treasure, the impetuous noble heads for the far door…
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Marlowe and GregorSamsa are done mourning the loss of Slobadan the beekeeper and agree that theywant to try to get some of the valuable weapons and armor in the tomb room thatVos just vacated. They manage to getinto the room without getting burned and the piles of bones slither towardsthem. Marlowe destroys one bone pilewith his pitchfork. Gregor whiffs, getsbitten on the ankle and falls over, impaling himself to death on a shard ofbone. Marlowe quickly does the math andsees six piles of bone coming after him and decides that discretion is thebetter part of valor and bugs out. Lance said, “I could have told you that wasgoing to happen,” in a nasal voice.
The gang’s only female, a somewhat addlepated tax collectorwith a name that sounds something like “Melanie Assneck,” runs through the doorthat Tor passed through backwards andit seems to work… the flames miss. A sheepfarmer who may or may not have been The Poagseeker sends his sheep forward andsees it blasted into muttonchops by the fire. One of Reuben’s characters tries to shield himself with a handcart thatwas formerly the property of another dead party member. Slightly singed, Tor and friends see achamber with clay tablets fastened all over the walls and a stone throne in themiddle of the room. A giant snake with asingle horn on its head crawls forward, hissing, “I am Ssserangnag (orsomething like that) and you intrude upon my guardianship!” Tor slams the door in the snake’s face andretreats back to the statue room, shouting “Snake! Snake!”
Lance said, “I could have told you that was going to happen,”in a nasal voice.
One of Reuben’s mooks decides he wants Samsa’s armor andrigs a hook onto the end of a ten foot pole to drag the corpse out of the roomwithout activating the bone piles. Bythis time the statue trap seems to be out of oil… it keeps turning andsputtering as doors are opened but we are safe for now. Just as Reuben dragsthe dead Gregor Samsa from the room, Torruns up to him, waves his sword under his nose and says, “Bugger off! The armor’s mine!”
Lance said, “I could have told you that was going to happen,”in a nasal voice.
The snake is now trying to open the door while the rest ofus are trying to hold it shut. Inspired,one of Reuben’s characters uses his 10 foot chain to attach the door handle tothe statue’s leg. It holds until one ofthe other mooks opens the door in the north wall. The statue turns to spray the door, pullingthe chain and ripping the door off of its hinges. The snake slithers into theroom. Lance said, “I could have told you that was going to happen,” in a nasalvoice.
One of Reuben’s characters throws a net over the snake andit shakes back and forth, trying to get the net off of its horn and head. The one hitpoint wonder, Marlowe, stabs itwith his pitchfork and Vor slashes it with a sword. Almuric the hobbit kills it with a slingbullet (lucky shot!) and the snake melts into ashes, leaving only the horn whichis snatched up by Kreglack and coveted by Ptath.
At this point, half of the party decides to explore the roomwith the throne and the other half decides to explore the newly opened door. Thetablets on the walls of the throne room appear to tell the story of an ancientalien intelligence from beyond the stars that visited our planet in eonspast. With their aid, a barbariansorcerer king rose to power with his seven lieutenants. We surmise that the lieutenants are buried inthe room with the alcoves. Marlowe sitson the throne and discovers that he can see s window filled with stars abovethe doorway, but the stars look unfamiliar.
Meanwhile, Tor, Vor, Melanie Assneck, and Zordunir theoutlaw explore another room. It is longand dark, with pillars and a pool in the center that appears to reflect starsfrom the night sky. Glowing figures ofcrystal move slowly from the far end of the room. Ina panic, Melanie Assneck jumps into the pool and discovers it is only 3feet deep. Zordunir attacks one of thecrystal men, knocking a chunk out of it, and it attacks him back. They seem to be attracted to light, however,and Zordunir retreats as someone else throws a torch across to the far end ofthe room. The crystal men shuffle offtowards the light. Tor sees a door atthe far end of the room, and, eager as always, opens it and discovers a set ofstairs. Drawing his sword, he descends the staircase.
Zombie attack in Florida
Posted: May 28, 2012 Filed under: zombies 1 CommentThe police in Florida would have you believe that the incident that involved a naked man being shot by police after he had been ordered to stop eating another man’s face is just a case of a guy in a drug induced psychosis, but you and I know the real truth. Yes, my fellow Americans, make my words — on Memorial Day Weekend 2012 we had the first case of the Thanatos Virus reported in the US. And zombies are like roaches… for every one you see, there are ten more, so it will only get worse!
I hope, for the public’s sake, that the victim is isolated and restrained. Perhaps it would be a mercy to put a bullet in the man’s brain — I know that’s what I would want if it were me.
I guess I better call in tomorrow. I will need the whole day to stock up on plywood for the windows, canned food and water as well as ammo.
Chuck Brown has Gone Gone
Posted: May 17, 2012 Filed under: Uncategorized 2 Comments
Sad news for funk lovers, Chuck Brown, father of Go-Go, died yesterday. I wish I could claim I was so hip and smart and knew all about him for years — truth is, I only found out about him a few years ago thanks to some mix tapes that Annie plays sometimes in the evenings… I kept hearing these songs that sounded familiar, like “Busting Loose,” but I couldn’t quite place them… like a dose of James Brown with a pinch of Kid Creole, maybe… I found out that the group in question was Chuck Brown and The Soul Searchers (no relation to James) — at 75, he had lived a full life, had many hits and ups and downs… I’m just sorry it took so long for me to find out about this true talent.Fallout 3
Posted: May 15, 2012 Filed under: games, inspiration, post apocalypse Leave a comment![]() |
| Kapow! |
I seem to play video games 3-4 years after everyone else has already gotten sick of them. Part of it is just my contrary nature; when something is being hyped, I don’t want to like it… which helps me to continue to delude myself into seeing myself as an independent thinker. And I am in need of a tech upgrade before I can run any of the newer titles. So, Fallout 3 (released years ago) has finally made it to my desktop. And I love it.
If you don’t know anything about Fallout 3, look at things like this wikipedia article. Fallout 3 is to Oblivion what Gamma World was to D&D. Back in the Halcyon days of my youth, when I was less jaded and still liked things and video games needed you to put a quarter in to enjoy the sweet stick figures of games like Venture, we played D&D a lot. And we loved it. Then one day, my friend Alan picked up Gamma World, and that was even more fun, simply because the game lent itself to a certain black humor and had fewer pretensions to realism or seriousness (at least in our game group).
I really like the art direction that Bethesda used for Fallout 3. Ruined technology and cars looked like what people in 1950s America thought the future was going to look like — lots of rivets and vacuum tubes rather than transistors and solid state. Everywhere is dangerous. And there is some great old-timey music in the game, including Bob Crosby’s “Good Hearts and Gentle People.” When you shoot people and creatures, their limbs and heads tend to fly off if you score a critical. If you use V.A.T.S. (a special targeting system), they explode in slow motion and you get to watch it in 3rd person. And there are lots and lots of guns. My only complaint is that the monsters and NPCs are sometimes just pretty stupid, and I wish the game had a more extensive bestiary — thus far I have fought mole rats, mirelurks (which are crab people), human bandits, bloatflies (which are giant flies that shoot larvae at you like bullets) and giant scorpions… and as I get tougher, I suspect other monsters will be encountered, but, still, I’d like more variety. D&D spoiled me because there was always a new monster.
I’m only about 5-6 hours in, but having a blast. It is usually the simple things that make me happy.







