I lifted the book up to my face and blew a layer of dust off its surface. I felt like some kind of fictionalized archeologist. It occurred to me, briefly, that I should have replaced the book with something of equal weight, but I quickly dismissed the thought. I found a secluded place and began to pore over its content.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve been enamored with the Fallout world since its first iteration in 1997, Fallout: a Post-Nuclear Adventure. When its successor, Fallout 2, came out a few years later, I was hooked. Last November, Fallout 3 wasn’t just the icing on the cake, it was a whole new layer…or flavor…or…something else…cake related. And like cake, I devoured these games. I consumed every morsel of dark humor, vivid wasteland, and the immersive story behind it all. But my hunger wasn’t sated. I needed something more. I needed…dice.