On the edge of town four horse-riders had appeared, the one to the farthest left had a cigarette in his mouth, on his head was a stray hat and on his face was a crooked smile. One front tooth missed in the grin which could be seen as he opened his mouth to speak, the man's words coming out with a slight Southern drawl.

"This is the place alright, little ole' Soursprings. Nothin' here but old folks and nobodies. Easy pickings." He said as he used one gloved hand to push his hat up to shield his sunken eyes from the sun. His name was Foster, and he was a bad man. The baddest one in the group he'd contend if you asked him.

"Dewey is already there, I reckon he's laying low in the bar. Probably blue as a bum by now." Another man said, his long blonde hair was tied into a ponytail which hung below his cowboy hat. A scruff of facial hair smeared his mischievous face. 

"You're right about that, Owen. Bet he's airing the paunch out a window by now." An eye-patched rider spoke, two glimmering steel revolvers hung off each of his sides. Both were cocked and loaded for trouble. An eyepatch sat over his left eye-socket. This was Horace, or 'One-Eye', though if you made the mistake of calling him that then he'd blast both his revolves in your arms. Well, if he was feeling merciful.

"Dillard's there too, ya' know how he likes to do it. He might be in that church over yonder. Sure ain't no man of God though." Foster added then removed the cigarette from his lips. With a flick of his hand he sent into into the dust as the wind blew it away into the underbrush. 

The fourth horseman didn't speak, he was a little different from the others. A thick black beard covered his tanned skin, from the looks of it he was a man of Mexican descent. This was Rio, his English wasn't the best but he was as a part of the group as any of the others.

The quadruple of strangers slowed their horses stride as they moved into town. They breezed past the white church right as the father's sermon was finished. The small crowd had started on their way out of the holy house. Sure as stated, Dillard was the last one out the door. He locked eyes with one of his fellow strangers, then adjusted his cowboy hat as he strolled towards the saloon. The four riders pulled to the side and Dillard met them there. 

"The lawman's office is the opposite side from where y'all strolled in. Ain't no one to be scared of here. Planted what you wanted where ya' wanted." He said with a quiet tone as each of them disembarked from their stallions. Then with a smirk at Rio the two newcomers to the small town walked towards the bank. They made showed no strain in their strides. Horace split off as well, letting out a whistle as he waltzed down the street towards the sheriff's office.

Foster and Owen then both entered into the saloon. Neither of them had weapons shown on their figure, but they were ready for action. The strangers entered in right as Sheriff William was telling a story. The older man sat leaned back in his chair while Billy paused his piano  playing. The deputy next to his father wasn't paying attention to any of that, he was people watching. Though that couldn't be easily told as he smirked along to his daddy's rambling. Foster and Owen took seats at the opposite side of the bar from the scarred Dewey who didn't acknowledge them. To everyone not in their group they were strangers.
[hr]
"Fine, fine. Guess I'd better entertain some of these here visitors. You been advertisin' this here grocery as one with free liquor or something?" William joked which made a few patrons smile. He then leaned back in his seat and let out a sigh before he raised his voice. Billy stopped the music and turned in his seat. 

"So a long time ago, years it's gotta be, back when the deputy here wasn't even half his height. These two strangers wandered into town here. I still remember this cause it caused such a hellabaloo. The first one that came was some middle aged fellow, had a scar right below his left eye. Had the look of some poor lag, like he was in destined for the gallows or somethin'. He rode in on a lunkhead going lickety split. Damn near trampled some townsfolk on his way. I stroll out of the office and find him moving through town, asking anyone for shelter. I told him we had a perfectly good hotel he could stay in but he had as much money as a mumper." William paused to take a sip from his beer.

"So, while I'm chatting this feller up another visitor rolls into town. This one was the total opposite of the first lad, a mean lookin' Navy Model on his back, another on his belt. Look of pure determination on him, had that stare ya see on solders sometimes, like he's seen things. Right as the first bum catches sight of the second he gets real antsy, walks right away from me while I'm chatting him up. The other one spies him doin' this and whips out his lead-pusher quicker than I can blink and puts a shot right into the other's shoulder. Knocks him clean off his horse and sends it into a hoot."

"I pull out my own sidearm, point it at this fella', for all I know these are two troublemakers that wandered into my town to cause more dastardly deeds. Before I can say nothin' the one that blasted his gun speaks out. Says the other is a War deserter and that he had been tracking him from cross country. Pulls out official papers and all signed by the vice president. The lily livered bastard he just shot had stolen a buncha guns and ran west, where he was gonna sell them and make a new life. That bounty hunter had followed him for weeks."

"Within an hour we hung that deserter from the tallest tree. The bounty hunter was gone right after, barely said ten words to anyone. Left me his papers as a token, took the coward's corpse with him. Ain't seen nothin' like that since then." William finished as he took a drink of his beer and a couple patrons applauded. It wouldn't sound like much to most of them, but the sheriff remembered it like it was yesterday. 

Then an unexpected commotion broke out as the scarred stranger launched himself at another patron, sending his glass to the floor in the process. One of his friends did the same as he threw a chair at another. Then a brawl broke out all of a sudden, people tossed over tables, chairs shattered all around. William had dashed to his feet as quickly as he could, Clayton doing the same. Both men trying to get piece as someone went down after taking a glass mug to the jaw. Foster and Owen threw punches on the other side of the room.