Big Bill elected to follow quietly at the back of the group through the tour and lecture, taking the time to familiarize himself with his stat card while listening carefully to the instructions and explanations being given.

He wore a curious expression as they entered the training room. The place had a strange, familiar weight to it; clearly a room which deserved some form of veneration, but had been forgotten in recent times. The rancher slipped the card into his pocket and focused his full attention on the receptionist as she began to explain the "classes" and "skills" they had all been assigned.

At last, he made his way over to the available weapons and armor. Bill found a long jacket made from heavy, quilted fabric amidst the available armors and was quick to shrug it over his shoulders, being pleased to found it fit him. Skimming through the weapons, the cowboy found a plain but sturdy hunting knife and sheath which he added to his gun belt. He also snagged a handful of random bullets in hopes of finding one which would work in his single action army. "Really hope I ain't gotta make mah own shells. I can do it, but it is such a pain in the rear." he mused, stepping away from the gear and wandering towards the center of the room.

"Y'all, listen up. If yer a Gunsman and you ain't never fired a gun before gitcher ass over here once you find somethin' to shoot. I'll be teachin' y'all the basics." he belted, drawing the old revolver and flipping it in his hand a few times. "We can't just rely on them skill thingies in a firefight, and shootin' properly takes practice. No magic card in the world is gon' teach ya' proper marksmanship."

[@NightmareInd][@Duthguy]