Log entry for the second week of June, 2051: It is nearly a month since I encountered the strange man in the ragged clothing. The prairie chicken eggs he gave me have yet to hatch, or do much at all. I am considering making breakfast out of them, as my supply of grilled chicken is running incredibly low. I find myself coming across more and more of the black chips that the strange man handed to me, in various places. Under a pile of coal, in the shirt pocket of a bandit I was hired to kill, on the person of several blade dancers, and even just sitting on the ground in Mumford. I have collected a substantial number of these chips, and continue to find more. I shall log in an entry when this mysterious use for them becomes apparent.
While delivering a bank notice to the vault in Embry Crossroads, I came across a sole man walking down the street with a dog. A pet dog! The man wore a ten gallon hat, and a light blue jacket over a ragged t-shirt, and jeans that would have been entirely white were it not for the small patches of unfaded blue sporadically placed on the garment. His eyes caught my own, and lit up in a fire of excitement. He motioned his hand to me, when I noticed his dog had jogged over and begun sniffing away. The man nodded his enormous hat and quickly blew into a sales pitch,
“Son, you may not know me, but I’m a traveling salesman you look like someone who could use a companion, and now this here fella ain’t no good for fightin’ (he’s a bit of a wuss when the going gets tough), but he’ll be the most faithful companion you’ll ever lay eyes on and if you don’t believe me you can take ‘im and lock ‘im in the trunk of yer vehicle along with yer significant other and see whose happy ter see ya when ya open it two hours later-“
I stopped him, and asked how much the dog cost. Ten dollars, “and I don’t take none of them chips y’all pass as cash.” Some paper money still exists, and if you want to look like a public moron the best method is to go down to the bank and ask to convert your chips into dollars. Luckily, the old American dollar had devalued so much that ten dollars was a pittance, and I purchased the dog. The man thanked me, tipped his skyscraper hat, and continued on his way. Oddly enough, I saw for a split second the inside of his bag, containing what must have been dozens of leashes and collars. On his way past, he removed a leash from his bag and, when I had turned around, he had yet another dog with him. Where did that dog come from?
I’ve decided to name him Pearce. It is a he, I made certain to check.
On a side note, I must investigate my cooking kit, as it has the unnatural ability to cook any meat I put in it into grilled chicken. After testing komodo dragons, cave lizards, cows, pigs, and even several bandits I discovered on the outskirts of town, I found all of their meat cooked into a fine grilled chicken.
In my defense, I did promise that I would do that again. Fallen Earth has gone the way of Blizzard, offering two items in a cash-shop store. The first item, already explained in the above, is a companion dog that follows you around. The Kaibab Cur doesn’t offer up a fight, nor will he aid you in combat. He does carry four items, and loves to go for long walks in the wasteland. The Kaibab Cur costs $10 USD and covers your whole account. A word of warning, however: The dog can be killed in PvP.
The second item is a pair of brass goggles that offer a small bonus, and alternately look awesome. The goggles cost $5.
MMO Fallout 