RIP - Smith Weston

Dark hair, Strong Chin.

Description:
Bio:

…Well, as a boy my parents couldn’t keep me outta trouble, stealin’, vandlizin’, all round trouble makin’, and as I got older I became a much worse, robbery, gamblin’, women, murder you name it, pretty soon I found myself in a posse of no good outlaws. They knew what they were doin’ and they were damn good at it too. In a single year we had committed crimes in several different counties, I took a trophy from each job we went on. indicates to the belt of what seem to be random nick-knacks on his horse. eventually we found ourselves against a rock and a hard place when the law came after us while we were in injun territory. Anyway, somehow I found myself separated from the others, and had to hunker down in a cave for the night. When I woke up the next morning, the cave entrance was gone, like it was never there, but I could see light behind me. I approached the light, but for the longest time it never seemed to get any closer, I tripped on a rock and fell, when I opened my eyes, I found what the light was comin’ from, a case a case made of shiny black rock, covered with gold trimming. There were latches on the front but at first they wouldn’t open, then I noticed that on the top of the case was a design of a hand, it seemed to be perfectly my size. I placed my hand on the design out of curiosity, from the moment I did my hand was stuck the box pricked my hand in my palm and each of my fingers, and on this box I could see the blood draining in to tiny little veins on the box until the blood reached the latches. That was when I saw my first vision of hell, my skin burning, while I’m torn apart by those I had wronged in my life who all wailed “Why!” at me. When the vision ended, my hand was released and I reeled back, sweating and breathin’ hard. The latched on the case released and it slowly opened, revealing inside, this Winchester ’73 and eight etched bullets. I was breathin’ so hard and fast that I passed out, and when I woke up I was at the cave entrance, holding that gun and wearing a bandolier of those bullets. From that point on I decided that I was done doing bad, and that it was time to begin a new life, a life of good. I returned to my home town to apologize to my family for the horrible things I had done, but no one knew who I was, not even my own mother and father, they looked to me as if I were crazy. So, I began wandering the wests…

RIP - Smith Weston

Storms a' comin' MasterGameMaster sacredfire80