In the town of Silvergate, there's a saloon, a fairly large saloon that sits in the middle of the town. Many in Silvergate frequent it due to its supply and variety of liquors and such. A place that any respectable, dishonorable, or honest person may find some enjoyment of alcohol and music.

Outside this saloon, hangs a sign depicting a snake coiled around a bottle with the name "Snake's Poison". Inside, there were many patrons, but the most notable out of them was a young bartender with several pieces of equipment and armor on his body, his coat and stalker hat hanging nearby. A well kept repeater hangs on the wall behind the bar as well.

The young man is seen cleaning a glass and serving his customer a drink. Until an older man walks in and sits at the bar. Walking in front of him, the young man cleans another glass.

"What's your poison, mister?" He asked with a friendly smile he's put on a thousand times in his three years as a bar owner. His voice held a slight accent with his neutral tone.

"A shot of whiskey will do." The older man replied.

"What's your budget, mister? Got all kinds of whiskey, I gotta warn you though, the better the quality the more ya pay."

"Whatever this'll get me." The man places 10 Litas onto the counter and the bar man takes it and places the glass onto the counter.

He turns around and grabs a bottle of whiskey from the wall of liquor behind the bar. He turns back and pours the man's drink, the man then places 10 more Litas onto the counter.

"What's this? A tip?" The bartender looked at the Litas confused.

"For a tip." Was all the man's reply. The bartender's eyes narrowed and his tone turned cautious.

"I don't get your meaning, friend." He spoke the last bit aggressively as he discreetly picked up a Schofield revolver under the bar

The man picked up his glass and swirled it before he spoke again.

"I heard that in Silvergate, there was a saloon. It's owner is someone to go to if you wanna know something about something. Turns out, this is the only saloon here." He sipped his whiskey as the young man quietly cocked the hammer to his revolver.

"I don't understand, friend. You either have the wrong person or someone lied to you." He pointed the revolver at the older man from under the bar.

"I have friends in Silvergate, they told me about you. Told me how if you gave a tip, you'd get a tip." The man finishes his drink as the barman scowls quietly.

"You ain't law and I haven't seen your face 'round here before. Leave if you don't want to be lying under snakes." The young man said coldly.

"I'm looking for the Mortalis Gang." The man spoke plainly. The bartender's eyes widened slightly, his revolver lowered slightly.

"You're from Dead Basin, ain't you?" The man nodded at his question as he looked up at him.

"The soulless bastards killed my wife." The bartender dropped his head slightly and pushed the money back to him.

"My condolences, but if I tell you something about 'em I'd feel like I signed your death certificate, mister." The man shook his head.

"If you ain't gonna help me I'll-" Shots were fired outside.

Men hooted and hollered as they fired into the sky as they rode in outside of the saloon. They were rough and rigid looking men that looked like they were insane.

"Everyone upstairs, now." The bartender ordered his patrons, all of them except the man ran upstairs.

"Barman! You know who we are! Come on outside!" Their leader yelled as his posse laughed and smiled crazily.

"Well mister, you didn't have to look far. I'll handle this." He holstered both of his Schofields and threw on his coat.

"There's at least twenty five of those fucks out there! Let me help!" The man grabbed his arm as he looked at the man coldly.

"Clearly, you don't know who I am." He said sternly. He yanked his arm away and walked out with a calm and passive expression.

As soon as he walked through the doors, he was met with twenty five men, all were armed but only one had his gun on him, this man spoke.

"Well well, look at this, fellers. Barman's a kid." They all laughed maniacally as the young man looked over them.

"I'm out here, friends. Now, I'd like to know why you folk would disturb the peace of this establishment and town." The man with his gun on him grinned.

"Well, a few days back, one of my boys came by here without my expressed consent. You know him?"

"I get plenty of folk coming in for a drink. I don't tend to recognize all of them." The man chuckled at this and threw him a wade of Litas.

"I think you'd remember a face if they gave you a tip, Infobroker."

The young man eyed the money with a calm demeanor, but inside the man had grown irritated.

"Now I may remember this man. Though I don't know what that has anything to do with your being here."

The man had a wicked smile that showed off his yellowed and cracked teeth. It disgusted the young bartender.

"We hanged that feller by the neck in our camp, made an example of him. Tell everybody what happens to fools like him when you make it easy for the law to find us." The outlaw posse all laughed as he told of the poor man's fate.

"While that does displease me and is quite unfortunate, that still doesn't make it any easier to understand why y'all are here." The young man increasingly grew annoyed and disgusted, but didn't show it.

"Well, me and my friends here have decided to just kill you too. Tying up loose ends and what not." The outlaw and his posse all laughed. The young man's eyebrows raised.

"Now, now, gentlemen. Perhaps we can talk this out, no need for blood." The Barman raised his hands to his hips, palms out to them.

The outlaw only laughed and cocked the hammer on his gun.

"I don't think so, barboy!"

The young man scowled finally and spat at the outlaw. He had been disgusted and irritated by him enough.

"Clearly, you don't know who I am." The young man's words only humored the gang while all of them laughed.

"And who might you be, boy!" He heard one say. He could only smirk with a chuckle as he looked at their leader.

"The fastest gun this side of Silvergate."

The Barman drew a revolver from underneath his coat and fired a shot straight into the head of the man next to the leader. The entire posse went dead silent as the man dropped off his horse dead.

One of the outlaws off their horse shook out of his daze and charged the young man with a knife. He didn't even manage to get close as the young man drew his second Schofield and shot the man in the chest without looking at him.

As the rest of the gang recovered their senses, chaos ensued as the Barman ducked behind one of the saloon's many balcony columns as shots rained down upon him.

He fired back as he shot a man coming off his horse and another charging at him with a shovel. He shot a third in the neck, before being tackled by a scraggly outlaw with a rusty hatchet.

He managed to tilt his head away from the axe falling onto his head and brought a revolver to the man's neck before pulling the trigger.

The body went limp as he struggled to get it off of him as he shot another man from underneath the body. Finally shoving the body off of him, he shoots another man in the leg before finishing him with the other revolver.

Gaining his bearings, he reloaded his revolvers, then shot both a man charging him with a pickaxe and another raising his pistol to fire, at the same time. Both men are dead before they fall to the dirt and another gets kicked down the steps of the saloon and gets two cold pieces of lead into his chest.

Killing ten of the vicious bastards, the rest of the gang started to overwhelm the Barman as they pinned him down behind a wagon just outside of the saloon.

"Oi! O'Conner, catch!" An old man yelled as he threw a repeater down to the young man, now known as O'Conner, from the balcony of the saloon.

The young O'Conner snagged the repeater out of the air and inspected it with a smile. The old man, a long time patron, had thrown him his personal repeater.

He levered it and it made a satisfying hum that could only make him laugh in joy.

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"Oh, Y'all fuckers are done now!"

He peeked around the wagon and shot a bandit in the head, turning it into nothing but a spray of blood and gore. He levered the rifle and shot another in the chest, leaving a hole in it 5 inches in diameter. Then another man was shot in his shoulder, dismembering his arm from his body with half a scream, another shot finished him.

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O'Conner laughed as he walked out from behind the wagon as he vaporized another bandit's head and he began turning the tide as he cut down several more bandits, only leaving their boss and four others.

They aimed their guns at the young man as he stared them down.

"G-give it up, now! Y-y-ya goddamned m-monster!"

He slung the repeater over his shoulder and hovered his hand over his Schofield.

"I just slaughtered twenty of your boys, and you still have the audacity to tell me to give up?"

He quickly drew his revolver and, in the blink of an eye, the four bandits fell to the ground with a new hole in their heads. The leader trembled as he dropped his gun and fell to his knees as O'Conner slowly approached.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry! I-I'll leave ya be!"

The younger man said nothing as he unslung his repeater and levered it. The bandit grew frantic and started crying and screaming.

"P-please! I-I'll g-give you every Litas I-I got! Just let me live, please!!!"

He frantically searched his pockets and dropped a wad of Litas at the man's feet. The man looked at him with a cold glare before shooting the repeater into his chest, blowing his heart and lungs out of his back in a blood red mist.

"Sorry, friend, but you're kinda of an asshole."

The bandit looked at him and struggled to speak as the man picked up the wad of Litas and turned back. The bandit tried to gasp for air as he fell forward into the dirt, dead.

As the man walked back to his saloon, he looked around at the carnage he left and smirked. Turning to some of the frightened townsfolk, he ask for them to gather the deputies of Silvergate. A request they were quick to fulfill as they ran off towards the sheriff's office.

Back inside the saloon, as many of the patrons stayed upstairs to look over the street of corpses, O'Conner stepped back behind the bar and hung up his repeater.

"Just who the hell are you, feller...?"

He turned his head back to see the same man from before. He smirked and turned to him fully.

"I'm the fastest gun in Silvergate. My name is-"

Before he could finish, several deputies barged through the swinging doors, guns out and ready to fight. Turning to the Barman, they lowered their weapons.

"Devon! What the hell happened out here?! I count over twenty dead men outside!"

The man, full name Devon O'Conner, sighed deeply as he pulled a bottle of Brandy from the shelf behind him.

"Mortalis Gang. Wanted to kill me, on account of a little information that was brought to my attention."

The deputy chuckles and steps up to the bar.

"Looks like they crossed the wrong man."

Devon let out an amused grunt as he poured the deputy and himself a shot.

"Sheriff coming?"

"You know how much shit he has to put up with. That's why we're here."

They both down their shots and the deputy sighs as everyone comes down from the balcony and heads home.

"Well, you wanna get rid of the gang that's been plaguing the surrounding areas?"

The deputy turns to him with a cocked eyebrow.

"Whatchu mean by that?"

Devon smirks as he leans onto the bar.

"The poor fool I got the information from mentioned that Mortalis was hiding out at Hollow Ridge for the time being, and boasted that they was forty men strong."

He points out the door and the deputy's eyes follow.

"Now if you do the math, that's twenty five of em dead outside. Meaning, that there's only fifteen of em back at Hollow Ridge. Manageable enough for a good group of lawmen and some hired guns."

The deputy shook his head and sighed.

"Hollow Ridge is pretty open ground heading there. They'd see us coming and gun us down."

"That's where you'd be wrong. Yeah, it's fairly open, but you bring twenty five men, they'll most likely think it's their own coming back from killing me. You'd be able to get close enough before they realize."

The deputy took a moment to think over it all, then chuckled.

"You seem pretty knowledgeable about this, more than I anticipated."

"Underestimate me like them out there did, and you'll be in for a rude awakening. Besides, knowledge is power, how do you think me and my enterprise has gone this long?" Devon smirked smugly as he spoke with sure confidence.

"I suppose so, Devon. I think I'll heed your advice." The deputy finally accepting his idea with a smile.

The deputy turned and started for the door, before Devon called out to them.

"Since you're heeding my advice, why don't you take him? He seems like a good gun."

He points to the man from before. Confused, the man pointed to himself.

"Wait, what?"

The deputy eyed him up and down. Studying him. When he was done he nodded.

"I don't see why not, come along then. Let's go."

Devon called for them to wait as he pulled the wad of Litas the bandit gave to him in desperation. He split it half and handed it to the man.

"A little bonus for handling those bastards for me." The man seemed hesitant but eventually accepted it.

"Thank you, sir. I won't forget this." He smiled before joining the deputy at the door.

"Oh, and deputy?"

The deputy turned to him and tipped his hat up a bit in acknowledgement. Devon put the bottle of Brandy they drank before on the counter and gestured to it.

"Before you leave to get the fools, tell Sheriff Ryan if he sends some folk and a wagon to clean up my doorstep, he's got the rest of this Brandy waiting for him."

The deputy laughed as he assured the young man that he would relay the message as they all left to clean up the gang of scum.

Devon meanwhile swept down the bar and a glass, then poured another shot of Brandy.

"If the Sheriff don't come soon, there ain't gonna be much Brandy left for him."