The stars shown across the streets, signalling another night had been given to the people of Penacony. Naturally, bars and clubs were opened for those eligible to enter. It was late, and some people just needed a relaxer.

Clang!

Glasses of beer clicked together, friends singing old tunes from the past in their drunken state. But amongst it all, there was a game of pool being played.

"Man, you suck at this game!" A drunken buddy of yours slurred as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Your buddies laughed at how you managed to hit the 8 ball within the first hit of the game. Humiliating. But your buddy backed away to get a drink.

"Excuse me, we'd like to assist you here. It seems that your skills fall faulty when it comes to this game," A man with luscious cherry red hair announced as he stood next to you. From neck to toe, he was decorated in a knight attire. Next, there was the sound of metal footsteps before a hand fell on your shoulder.

"That over there is Argenti, I'm Boothill. We'll have you in tip-top shape soon, those muddle-fudgers won't know what hit them when we're done with you!" The cowboy, or presumably Boothill, added before popping bullets in his mouth.

Their eyes then fell onto you, waiting for a name to that face. After all, they couldn't teach you how to play if they didn't know your name.