After 15 years and 323 hours, I’ve finally beaten Fallout: New Vegas, and this game doesn’t need mods as much as you think it does

I’m a lifelong RPG reroller: I’m obsessed with restarting these things over and over until I’m sure that my first time hitting the credits will be perfect. My white whale for the past 15 years? Fallout: New Vegas, one of my very favorite games, which I finally completed for the first time after 323 hours and I don’t know how many characters.

Part of my problem was New Vegas’ myriad mechanical and story possibilities: Cowboy sniper, or unarmed ninja? Yes Man, or NCR? After a propulsive and semi-linear opening that takes you in an arc from Goodsprings through Novac, the game opens up in pure open world possibility.

The fact that you can’t keep playing after finishing the main quest incentivized me to try and do everything before heading to Hoover Dam⁠. I’d always take a break to play something else before achieving that goal, and by the time I came back to it? New character, baby.

That midgame was one major filter for me, another was hesitation of a different kind at the start of a playthrough. I realized recently that I’ve literally never played New Vegas without some kind of mod: Even by the time I got it for Christmas 2010, the scene was already out in full force tweaking the game.

A bizarre, high-contrast close-up shot of Daniel from New Vegas' Honest Hearts DLC. — (Image credit: chrisgreely1999 / Bethesda)

This time around, I went minimalist, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it was the first time I ever made it to the credits. Hear me out: If you’re a lifer and it’s been a long time since you’ve played the vanilla game, or you haven’t beaten New Vegas at all, you should try taking it easy on the mods.

Hatsune Miku NSFW Companion NVSE Required

I love mods and I love modding⁠. I think mods should always be allowed, if not encouraged by studios. I never want Bethesda modders to stop being authentically themselves, no matter how many AI voice catgirl companions they inflict upon the world.

But I’m more in it for bug fixes and standalone experiences as I get older. Most of the explosively popular Bethesda modding communities are focused on experience tweaks⁠—visual, mechanical, sometimes story changes to the base game to make it better fit the mod author’s (and potentially other players’) desires. I never want to yuck anyone’s yum, as the kids say, but this can get out of hand.

“Skyrim Transformed: 1,000 Mod List 4K Remaster 2026 RTX 5090,” harangues some YouTube title under footage of a game that is simply no longer Skyrim, the analogue, no-AI predecessor to Nvidia’s disastrous DLSS 5 showcase. “Oh yeah, New Vegas is the best game ever, but I could never play it without my 90GB modlist,” your most annoying friend will assure you. “Just follow this 17-step guide and decide whether you want the ‘vanilla++’ or ‘turbo overdrive’ version.” Enough.

New Vegas has tacticool weapons packs that John Wick would find a tad overwrought, and some real out-there sex stuff that would make the Marquis de Sade blush. At a certain point, it might be too much choice, and your experience can stray too far from the certifiable RPG classic at the heart of it.

It’s no longer a discrete game, but an open-ended wish fulfillment platform, one whose definition and structure can liquefy in the face of so many 4K texture packs and combat overhauls. You may have seen this sentiment expressed before, maybe a meme about it, or even felt it yourself: “I spent three hours figuring out my Morrowind modlist, made a character, and never got out of Seyda Neen.”

Creative restriction can be a beautiful thing, and I find I bring more to a game when it’s demanded of me by that game. Being able to tweak and customize every minute detail of the experience risks adulterating it, like bowling with bumpers. The promise of fully bespoke AI games and TV shows that react to your every whim is the dark logical extreme of this drive.

Just a little a mod, as a treat

Fred Durst New Vegas — (Image credit: Obsidian, lb8068)

This isn’t my moral screed against using these experience tweak mods at all⁠⁠—with the notable exception of all the tacticool ones and at least some of the sex ones. They will not be allowed into the Kingdom of Heaven. But it can be helpful to give yourself permission to play these games un-, or at least minimally-modded.

I’m sure the Viva New Vegas project is great, and I respect the work they do, but trying to figure out how to make its nested .exes and dependencies work on Steam Deck felt like doing my taxes. Instead, I just dug up the same bug and crash fixes I’ve been using since like, 2013:

I also allowed myself the indulgence of two experience tweaks: Ranger Helmets Neck Covers⁠—I mean come on, all the official art has those necks covered⁠—and Improved Ranger Coats, which makes New Vegas’ signature outfit fall flat like an actual longcoat instead of billowing like a cotillion gown.

I found it very gratifying to have this (relatively) back-to-basics experience with New Vegas, and it paired well with my first time trying its “you have to eat and sleep now” Hardcore mode. It felt fitting to have my least-modded playthrough be one of my most memorable and successful.

Of course, I’m also a filthy hypocrite: I’m eyeing one major mod for my next playthrough, and I don’t think anything can dissuade me. I’m talking about the JSawyer Mod, New Vegas lead Josh Sawyer’s unofficial collection of mechanical tweaks to make the game much harder, particularly in Hardcore Mode. But hey, it feels like less of a mod if it’s from one of the lead devs, right?