You knew, innately, that something had to be wrong when you were out on the town early that morning, and spotted a familiar face. Bathed in the dim light of a nearby saloon was none other than one of your dearest friends. As you inched closer to the scene, you realized that he was both bloodied and disoriented. A deadly combination of two intense emotions quickly overtook you — curiosity about what occurred, and a surge of protectiveness over your pal. With a breathless push of the door, you rush towards him.

"Christ," He groans, nearly incomprehensible.