[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/f8TSR3v/ezgif-1-302dff43e723.jpg[/img]
[color=00aeef]Location: Armadillo  ||  Mentions:[/color] [@RedVII][@Sad Ogo][@Berlin][/center]

[color=00aeef]"Okei Erik…hva nå…What now?"[/color] Erik was talking to himself, again like so many times he had found himself sitting by himself. Be it in a saloon, a church, a low-life dump of a shanty town filled with the dowtrodden and…himself. Soon Erik was given his drink of whiskey, to which he duly paid as he got it and starting drinking. Now he wasn't a heavy drinker, never had. It was only after the murder of his parents and burning of their farm that he started taking to the bottle. It didn't fill the hole in his chest, but it helped. 

So with the glass of whiskey in one hand and the wanted-poster in his other, Erik sat at the saloon counter and simply stared at the same faces he'd stared at so many times before. He was out of clues, out of leads and without any friends. [color=00aeef]"Come on, think. What now…"[/color]

Erik didn't expect anyone to answer his questions to himself, so when he heard the commotion going on behind him, he turned around to see what could be trouble. It was a saloon, trouble was a constant companion for these sorts of places. Erik couldn't make out all the conversation, but clearly someone was not happy with the outcome of a poker game and the Mexican-looking fella who won. Erik was about to get up, getting ready to step in and calm down the situation as guns were pulled, but someone else stepped in to play the role as diplomat. Good, things turned out better than expected. No one got shot, and even the barmaid thanked them with a bottle of their own. Now that was new, but Erik took that as the cue for minding his own business again. 

Not that he got time to contemplate his own troubles, as someone bull-rushed through the swing-doors of the Armadillo saloon, vaulted over the counter and rammed into a cabinet…What on Earth was going on in this town? But nothing bad was happening at the moment, and so Erik turned back to his whiskey. The Devil's water, but these days, Erik had made a few deals with Him for the greater good. 

[color=00aeef]"Well hello there, little Miss."[/color] Erik's attention was drawn to the little girl that walked up to the counter, asking the bartender for something less stingy than a wasp in a bottle. Poor thing, had some of these bastards tried to get her drunk? Turning to the same bartender the girl talked to, Erik pulled out some more money and raised his voice to her. [color=00aeef]"Hey bartender, get the girl a glass of lemonade. And no booze in it, woud you? Please and thank you."[/color] Erik ordered from the bartender, slowly not feeling surprised if anything like that could and had happened. But he gave them all the benefit of the doubt, and turned back to the girl. 

[color=00aeef]"Drinking booze at your age isn't something I would recommend, Miss. Trust me, I talk from experience. May I ask what you are doing out here at this time?"[/color] Erik began to talk with the girl, wondering what on Earth a little girl like her was doing in a saloon out of all places? Was she trying to find and bring back her drunkard of a father? Did her mother work here, either behind or in front of the counter? [color=00aeef]"My name's Erik, what's yours?"[/color] But As he still held the wanted-poster there, another question became more interesting for him. 

[color=00aeef]"Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen these men? You or your friends or parents?"[/color] Erik asked her instead, letting his previous musings go unanswered as he held out the wanted-poster for her to see. If she was in a saloon, God knew what else she could have seen. [color=00aeef]"These are some bad, bad men, let me tell you. Last time I've heard, they called themselves The Melbattons or something. Have you seen or heard of them?"[/color]

It wasn't supposed to be a quiet night in any manner, it seemed. Just as Erik had finished asking the girl about the gang he wanted dead, there was a series of shots coming from the outside. Erik was on his feet in a matter of seconds, having pulled out his revolver and making a run for the wall just beside the revolving doors of the saloon. If there was trouble ahead, Erik wasn't going to run away. Pearing his head out just enough to make out the scene on the street, he saw two men lying dead on the ground. One was the Mexican who had just won the poker game…

[color=00aeef]"You two, don't do anything more stupid!"[/color] Erik shouted at the two remaining men, who both turned as quickly as he had exited the saloon, guns aiming towards him. He had warned them, hadn't he? Before the two could pull off an easy kill on the blonde cowboy, Erik had planted two or three bullets in them and their guts. [color=00aeef]"…why do they always resist…"[/color] Erik holstered his gun, slowly making his way down the steps and towards the dead or dying men. The Mexian was dead, shot in the head. Erik sighed at the sight, closing his dead and empty eyes and quickly muttering something akin to a prayer in Spanish, before getting up on his feet and making his way back into the saloon. [color=00aeef]"Someone get the Preacher and the Sheriff, now. Looks like someone wanted revenge over justice out there…"[/color] He called out to the saloon, walking back to where he had been sitting only a few minutes before and downing the whole glass. [color=00aeef]"Duels…I hate duels, they never end good…"[/color]