There are four and a half shitloads of different weapons. There are (shh!) secrets to stumble across. From the moment your character (a professional courier who gets attacked and left for dead in the intro movie) wakes up in a backwater town, you’re introduced to a sprawling wasteland even bigger than that of Fallout 3. Now, if it’s purely size you care about, New Vegas has you covered. I’m talking long distance, reversed charges, not-giving-a-fuck. It is the sound of Obsidian phoning this game in.
Quieter than the cheery 1930s pop hits that warble from your radio, quieter even than the chirps of night-time insects, or the long gasps of wind blowing across the wasteland. There’s a distant sound that can be heard throughout your time with New Vegas. But I see you there, perched atop that blasted rock, canteen in hand, waiting for the official RPS review. Obsidian’s pseudo-sequel to Bethesda’s Fallout 3 hits the UK tomorrow, arriving amid a raft of positive reviews.
