The ruckus continued as both the lawmen watched it unfold. William let out a deep sigh as he stood away from it, watchful for anyone that used a weapon. Fists and thrown chairs were one thing, but if a dagger or gun were drawn then there was a greater chance of a life being taken. Luckily he did not see any of the brawlers make that decision, just honest punches and kicks. 

"These things tend to die quickly, son. Just watch if any of these drunks go beyond throwing punches." William exclaimed as a man was thrown to the ground to his left. Well if anyone decided to go after him or his kid then he'd be able to chuck them in the brig. Towards one side of the room the two strangers, Foster and Owen, had smirks on their faces. Owen had taken a right hook to the nose, and a bit of blood was leaking but it wasn't too bad. The situation was going just as they wanted.

As the fight dragged on noise came from outside the saloon. Horace sprinted out of a doorway, over one of his shoulders was a linen bag full of something. Guns, ammo, money, alcohol, tobacco, whatever valuable he had just gotten from the store he robbed. The sheriff's office had one deputy in it, some old fellow napping on the job. The robbed storekeeper had emerged a moment after Horace, a rifle in his hand.

"Ay! Stop that man, he just robbed my stock. Gonna give him a licking." The shopkeeper yelled, then rose his rifle up and aimed it towards Horace, the criminal kicking up dust with every boot that hit the ground. He squeezed the trigger and a bullet blasted out of the gun, it slammed into the ground just behind the thief. The gunshot drew the attention of everyone in the area, including many in the bar sober enough to realize it.

"Sheriff, someone robbed Smith's store! Look there!" Billy the pianist exclaimed as he pointed out one of the windows. Horace was still booking it away from the store as the shopkeeper fired another shot which went wide. The outlaw had drawn his revolver and returned fire as he ran, one of the two shots he fired had impacted into Smith's knee and sent him to the ground in pain. Horace kept on foot as townsfolk stared in surprise and shock.

William drew his own handgun and took one step towards the door, but another bullet rang out, this time from inside the saloon. The shard of metal slammed into the lawman's hand and exploded out the other side. William let out a scream and a loud profanity as his hand was punctured and his weapon bounced across the floor, far out of reach. He went down in pain, as blood oozed from the wound.

Foster's drawn revolver smoked as he watched the sheriff go down. Owen had dashed towards the back of the room and flipped over a table. He too had his piece drawn and cocked. As Foster aimed to fire another shot at William, and finish the elder lawman, a shot impacted inches away from his neck. It splintered the wood as Clayton Beck aimed towards his father's assailant, a look of intense rage on his face.

"Everyone, clear out of here! We got outlaws in Soursprings!" Clayton screamed as he squeezed the trigger of his iron once more. This time his shot made contact with Foster who yelped out in shock as he was hit in the left shoulder. The outlaw went to the floor behind an overturned table as Clayton fired another shot which sprang up more wood splinters but no blood. Many of the bar's patrons made for the exit, others laid on the floor with their hands over their heads.

"Owen, get outta here, go help Horace! Dewey you drunk fuck, kill that fucking kid!" Foster ordered from his position, Owen did as was ordered and launched himself out a nearby window. He landed in a heap of glass outside of the saloon but was one his feet as he sprinted after Horace who turned down an alleyway. The scarred Dewey and his three friends had drawn their pieces and taken cover around the saloon. One of them rose up and fired at the deputy.

Clayton grunted as he felt intense pain in his right leg. He had gotten nailed and it stung like nothing he'd ever felt before. He charged towards the bar and launched himself over it, glasses tumbled all over the place as he inadvertently knocked them off the counter. He clenched his revolver, his back to the thugs as they were zeroed in on him. Two bullets zinged over the bar and missed everything. He had his hands over his head as the situation continued to spiral out of control.

Total chaos continued outside of the saloon. Rio and Dillard emerged from the front entrance of the bank, each man with a bag of loot in one hand, and their revolver in the other. They rushed towards their horses as sweat poured down their faces. Inside the bank laid two dead townsfolk that tried to jump the bank-robbers. The bank teller was in tears at the carnage of it all. Behind the saloon a drawn carriage's cargo was revealed as the flap of fabric covering it was pushed away, five men emerged. Each one carried a revolver, several of them with their faces covered. They were more of the outlaws' assembled thugs. 

The group rushed in through the back door of the saloon. In an instance they poured in from the back of the bar room. Three knocked over a large table then tucked behind it, one more stayed in the back doorway, and the fifth ducked low as he aimed to get the jump on poor Clayton. All of the outlaw's eyes were on the lawmen, there was opportunity for heroic civilians to help fend them off.

([url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/126822-frontier-justice-wild-west-rp/ooc?page=10#post-3699412]Summary[/url])