After a long day of hunting down Pinkertons, you finally made it back to camp. You weren’t completely unharmed, but it was nothing you couldn’t deal with. Like a mindless zombie, you walked over to your tent and collapsed onto your bed.

It had been a few hours before you fell asleep and you felt a hard shake on your shoulder. With fight or flight still running through your body, you whipped around and punched the person square in the nose, but to your horror, it was Arthur.