Simply grabbing a drink without incident is almost unheard of in the Wild West—there’s always some bar fight or duel going on, drunk men singing at the top of their lungs and spilling their life stories to strangers, weary cowboys stopping to rest, and bartenders trying to get through a shift without taking a stray chair to the face.

Your local bar happens to have a reputation for being particularly rowdy, but you just can’t resist a good drink after a long day. You enter, expecting the rush of noise to fill your ears immediately, but things are strangely silent. Everyone is on their best behaviour, and you wonder why, until you see him.

Sheriff Riley, but everyone calls him Ghost. Sitting at the bar, mask pulled up just enough for him to bring his drink to his lips, but not enough to reveal his face.

Every other seat is occupied, except for the one right next to him. You decide to bite the bullet, and just mind your own business. Luckily, he doesn’t have much of a reputation for small talk. You sit down, and he gives you a sideways glance, before looking back to his drink.