Raymond didn't sit still very long before his eyes began wandering around. What was it about the eerie view in the distance? He'd seen big buildings before, but none so close. It looked like a few miles away at most. Anything civil that was standing in the wasteland, whether the settlement be small or large, was either taken from someone else or built from the ground up. And Raymond had seen many things made into settlements. Shacks made of scrap metal in the middle of nowhere, lives built in caves, subway stations with beds in them, houses suiting several families. Towns like this were the good ones, but as Raymond stared out at what was once known as New York City, he couldn't help but think about what it was once like. What was waiting in that city anyway?<br/><br/>His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps that were getting louder than the voices, some quiet and some loud. Raymond's head turned to see a man that just didn't belong. He looked as though he was groomed, and his clothes didn't show any signs of wear and tear on them. His clothes were formal, something Raymond thought only mattered in places like New Vegas. And yet, hear this man was, in a suit. Black, as though he was attending a pre-war funeral. The man just calmly walked towards him, without worry or fear.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"You're new in town, I see."</span>The man said, his voice came out more raspy than Raymond expected.<br/><br/>"I am. Just passing through. Why?" Raymond spoke, almost defensively. His lack of how to sweet talk didn't land him any browny points.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"I can just cut to the chase-"</span>The man said, taking a seat across from Raymond.<span style="color: #FF8000">"or, we can talk all day. Travelers need work. Do they not?</span>" The man said, spotting a sly smile afterwards.<br/><br/>Ray continued to look at him, a little skeptical at first. It was true, he did need work, but this didn't set right with him. "Say your piece." Raymond finally replied.<br/><br/>The man's grin remained on his face.<span style="color: #FF8000">"My name is William Purnell. I come from an association that would very much like a less broken version of this."</span>The man pulled out a key, or the half in which someone would use to turn it. The other half was missing.<br/><br/>"I don't really deal in metal wor-" Raymond began to speak, but was hushed by the man.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"You said to say my piece, and now I am."</span>Raymond shot him a very dissatisfied look, but kept quiet.<span style="color: #FF8000">"See. There were a great number of these keys made. They were made using sciences not available to me or my associates. There's a number printed on all of them."</span>William slipped a piece of paper, something not so common these days, to Raymond. All that it read was '08131942' in black ink.<span style="color: #FF8000">"A good amount of these keys were stored in Manhattan, that's a section of that big city you're gawking at. Others were spread around in the city. If you find the means to bring one of these keys back to me, I'll pay you more caps than you can possibly hold on your body."</span><br/><br/>"How many caps are we talking?" Raymond asked, almost with instinct. In the wasteland, bottle caps, which were the new currency, could be the difference between comfortable life and a slow painful death.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"A half a million caps. Whether you wish to seek these out alone or with others, whoever brings me the key will get a different key. One that opens a storage container with the reward."</span><br/><br/>"I thought nobody that entered New York City came back alive?" Raymond questioned.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"That's quite frankly, a lie. The Brotherhood of Steel operates in the city quite often. Though, they're quite commonly hammered out of their positions. They keep it pretty well hidden by accident, as they aren't able to save many people who wander the streets. You'll find some feral beings around, but if you play your cards right, you'll never have to worry again."</span><br/><br/>Raymond paused to think about it. "Where... where should I look? What does the key even lead to? Why do you need it?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">It's for my associates, and they're not the kind to hire people who can't keep a secret. You'll have to find your own way. And if you do, I'll be here. If not, I'm sure someone else will.</span>And with that, the man walked away. He didn't even ask for Raymond's name, much less treat him properly. Still, for that amount of money, Raymond couldn't argue. It wasn't long before he was getting up to leave the saloon, he'd have killed to have had a pipboy. The kinds of maps they'd offer would have been priceless in this scenario.