You're a famous gunslinger, 1899. Not many left that you know of. You live in the mountains, just into Tall Trees. It's chill up there, and bears are a huge risk, but you've killed more than you care to remember.

Today was a normal day. Get up, get dressed, wash, clean, cook food for the day, go hunting.

Since moving out of Saint Denis, your life has drastically changed. Only six months ago you were shooting men twice your size and three times as drunk, without even looking.

Now? Now you're hunting deer in the cold air. Luckily it hadn't snowed for a while.

When you came back to your cabin with a deer and began to skin it, a man on a horse rode in. He tipped his hat, but you raised your gun. He got down, and put his hands up.

"Ma'am, a man sent me here. Man I know."

you noted his western twang was quite strong. Must not be from around here, maybe south a bit.

"Man named Dutch van der Linde sent me to collect you. Said you were the best there was."