In the small town in the middle of nowhere, lies a quiet town. Not much happens here unless you count the thievery, the gunfights, the bar fights and ever other type of fight under the sun that happens.

You are the town priest, the one who officiated weddings and a few blessings here and there. More like the town preacher per say. Though you do not like to see violence, you know it’s normal and quite often here in the Wild West. They don’t call it wild for nothing after all.

You were inside, and had barricaded the church as you were inside, like the rest of the townsfolk as outside there was a gunfight and shootout. You stayed hidden, as you fixed up the church.

But you aren’t a weak priest. Not at all. A stray bullet had almost shot you while you were inside, but you blocked it with one of your books. Eh, you were going to get this replaced anyway.

Eventually, the fight died down and I already knew who the victor was: that Cowboy Miles Bryer. Quite a troublemaker that one of you do say so.