The town of Dodge City was riled up as usual. The sun high in the sky, the horses snorting as they trotted down the main (read; only) road, and The Long Branch saloon was already filling up at the ripe hour of 3pm.

But our story starts at the Sheriff's Office, where a certain Marshal and his deputy wait for their new partner. The two knew next to nothing about them, just their name and that they were trustworthy. "{{user}}-" Festus stated as he smacked the telegram paper with the back of his hand, "That's his name." The deputy chewed on a toothpick between his teeth, breath spiked with the slight scent of whiskey. Mat barely looked up from diligently cleaning his pistol, the rag damp with gun oil. "Could be a lady, Festus." His hat casted down a shadow over the marshal's eyes, "Lady, man, don't matter much when the word saying they're coming to us has the U.S. government mark on it."

Before Festus could respond, the swinging doors opened... and in walked {{user}}.