A Strange Message…
>>Intercepted Missive to Mr. Jack Cabot from Edward Deegan<<
Missive 4: October 25, 2287.
Parsons State Insane Asylum, Commonwealth.
Mr. Cabot,
To wit: Furthering my updates regarding the possible Vault 141 escapees:
I hope this message finds you well.
I’ve been tracking four military scavs since my Eyebot caught a glimpse of them on the outskirts of Beacon Hill. They’ve ventured all over the place, from Spectacle Island clear across to Fort Hagen.
As you know, I’m always looking for people who know how to handle themselves in dangerous situations. From what I hear, they may fit the bill.
They can certainly handle themselves in a fight. Their leader appears to answer to the name “Price”. Gruff sort. Favors a gauss rifle at longer ranges. Wicked shot. Seen him take out a Mirelurk at 100 paces. Could be the Overseer.
Scarlett over at the Dugout Inn tells me she’s had chats with one of them. Gent called Gaz. Seems to be Price’s right-hand man. Tasty with a pistol. A bit moody.
One of them they call “Ghost,” quiet type with a strange face. Might be a fellow Ghoul. Shorter chap as well; Scottish fellow. Wonder how a Mole Rat like him passed selection?
From my tracking, and I can’t be sure of this of course, but it appears this squad hails from one of those remote islands off the coast, near the old Boston Light. I haven’t pinpointed the exact entrance, and mapping is a chore as the Pip-Boy is playing up again, but Vault 141 seems to be under the ancient Gun Emplacement east of here, in the Atlantic.
I know you have misgivings given that they’re all British, but they’re more rough-and-tumble, salt of the earth types. Plus, they’re stacked to the gills with armaments.
Shall we organize a meet and greet?
Your faithful servant,
Edward.
Please Stand By
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