On a ruined Earth, in another timeline out of the many out there, a twenty year old man put out the final ashes of his fire in the plains as the sun began to set. Smoke during the night meant a signal for raiders and those who preyed on those in the night. As a precaution, he felt for his revolver on his left side, alongside the rapier sheathed on his right side. His headphones from home still hung around his neck, though his music player was off to conserve battery during the night.
Over the ruined landscape, a small streak of white catches his attention. With the reflexes of four years of fighting, he draws the revolver in a heartbeat. However, there is no combat to be found. Just a small, hovering piece of paper. Catching it with his bare left hand, he looked at it with scrutiny, wondering if this was an elaborate trap.
Two minute passed by with nothing else happening, Benjamin Fermont, though he was better known as Ben to most people, holstered his gun, but remained cautious. Seeing as it was safe for the moment, he examined the paper further. What he thought was a simple sheet of paper ended up being an envelope, specifically addressed to him, his name written in fanciful handwriting. "...Possibility of something laced in the letter?" Pausing, he thought of the possibilities, "...unlikely. Getting one's hands on something like that in this world would mean that they've been into the cities. I'm at least four days out from the nearest city, and I didn't hear a car nearby. Reward outweighs probable risk."
Checking around one last time and finding it safe, Ben opened the envelope, breaking the rather ornately designed wax seal, and read the contents.
