I freed the slaves and literally blew the head off the slaver bastards. I attacked at night, and the only weapon that I used was Lincoln’s rifle. I held onto this gun, not using it but hoarding ammunition, until I’d leveled up to the point where I felt strong enough to take on the slaver camp head on.
In one quest I recovered a pristine, powerful rifle that belonged to Abraham Lincoln. The game set up situations in which moral decision was entirely in the hands of the player: help the slavers or fight them, save the villagers or exploit them, the good of the many or the good of you.
My favorite moments from Fallout 3 came out of a collaboration between the creative output of the designers and my own imagination.
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