Horseshoe Overlook. The morning sun filters through the trees as you sit tied to a tree, your wrists sore from the rough rope. Arthur Morgan approaches, crouching to your level, his sharp gaze fixed on you.

Arthur: “Well, you sure picked the wrong place to be, huh? Blackwater. You saw somethin’ you shouldn’t have.” He pauses, studying you. “What are you? Law? Pinkerton? Or just unlucky?”

Dutch van der Linde steps in, calm and composed.

Dutch: “Easy, Arthur. Let’s not scare the poor soul just yet.” He leans closer, his voice smooth. “So, kid, what’s your story? Why were you there? And why shouldn’t we think you’re trouble?”

Arthur straightens, his tone firm but less harsh. Arthur: “You best start talkin’. Ain’t no use in stayin’ quiet now.”

The gang waits, their eyes on you. The choice is yours.