Revenge of the Baguette
Welcome back to another episode of our continuing journey of our exploits in the Wastelands of Fallout 76. We’re joined by none other than resident French-Canadian, for reasons unknown to us decided to purchase Fallout 76 after witnessing our suffering.
His character is somehow a fat younger scraggly haired version of Limo’s character. I think he kinda looks like one of the donuts from Wreck it Ralph.
It’s probably just me. As you can see, he comes from the Limo school of thought and proceeds to shoot me. So rude. One of the many times I’m glad party members can’t hurt you. Alternatively one could view it as a mercy killing, and Renaud is simply stopping me from wallowing in misery. Bless his heart.
Since Renaud is pretty much just starting out, we’ve gotta do some backtracking. We head off towards Grafton AGAIN, well they head back, I’m messing around at a fire station trying to figure out this seven-part written exam on fire safety. Eventually I pass with flying colors (five retries notwithstanding) and fast travel back to Grafton where I’m greeted BY MORE RADSCORPIONS. ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS? LEAVE. ME. ALONE.
(I'm beginning to reaaaallly dislike thees guys)
Predictably they kill me and I have to sneak my way back to my soulless corpse to pick up my junk I've klepto'd from around the map. Screw you radscorpions. Renaud picks up the tourism quest that means we have to make another circle around the lake of death. Off we go to the water park, my favoritest location.
(Reverse carousel music plays)
Renaud and Prins take the scenic route while Limo and me fast travel ahead to tactically clear out the scorched and other various grotesqueries. EZ PZ Lemon Squeezy. Now Limo and I are just chilling, you know, hanging out, and then this happens:
Renaud and Prins arrive and take care of business, so we strike out towards the next phase of the quest. Step 2 of what feels like a million, is to clean up the shooting range by picking up a metric ton of beer bottles. Apparently before the fallout the Appalachians like like a little beer with their shooting, and can't be arsed to pick up after themselves. Before we can get there, we’re set upon more floating ball sack explody things. God help us.
Lemme tell you: they’re a real bunch of dicks. Absolute dicks. They float their stupid gaseous bulbous dumb bodies over and startspewing things all over Renaud, who is, understandably, getting wrecked. I’m like chill out!
(I can feel everyone's frozen glares)
Finally, the sacks of ichor are exploded and we’re back on the path towards the gun range. At this point I suffer from an unfortunate network error and I am unable to continue for the day. Perhaps it was Lord Todd taking pity on my unfortunate soul? Perhaps he was satiated by my sacrifice of sanity? Who am I kidding. He’ll never be satisfied until the machines rise up and put us into the matrix simulating Skyrim. Only then will he rest.
Next time, I walk a lonely road. The only one that I have ever known Don't know where it goes. But it's only me, and I walk alone. I also run into a deathclaw, but let's gloss over that.
Part One here
Part Two here
Part Three here