Silas stood up with an audible creaking from his muscles as they groaned in protest.

Maybe the bastards will let me go if I ask em nicely eh? Silas thought in an amused fashion as he ran a hand through his coarse freshly cut black hair before donning his hat.

Ha ha ha ha, he cackled madly while kicking over a table, pressing a booted foot against one end until it finally gave way and toppled onto its side, the thick hardwood furniture making a fine barricade.

Can't believe this, I come to town for a haircut and to rest between jobs and what happens next, ambushed by prairie scum. Ha ha ha just my luck.

Silas rolled his shoulders as he readied his pistol toward the door, he and the men outside knew exactly which option he was planning to choose for say what you will about Silas Horne, he was a bastard, sarcastic arse, and a downright bad person sometimes but one thing is sure as shit, Silas Thorne was no coward.

If these men wanted him dead they were going to have to work for it.

"Ha ha ha ha, see you in hell Bob!" Silas cackled in his strong South Carolina accent, while loudly cocking his pistol.

"Damn Silas, just come out here, make this easy on both of us," Bob called from outside the saloon. It seemed Silas's reputation still carried weight, even outnumbered 20 to 1 they were still hesitant to fight him.

"The only thing easy here Bob is your sister, now are we fighting or what!" Laughed Silas once more from cover, smiling even as he faced down death.

Outside the bar, Bloody Bob Carwhittle's face turned bright red in anger as he yelled orders to his gang to storm the saloon. Silas cracked his neck, sure he was probably going to die here, but would he give up? Never, not while he was still breathing, not while he still held a gun in his hand.

Muscles tensed as several men prepared to storm the entrance, sweat dripped down their brows and they licked dry lips, it was time to dance with death, and with that thought, they char...

System Initializing: Please hold for 3... 2... 1...

System Initialized: Welcome people of planet 66745 designated as "Earth" to the system, things are about to change for you all, drastically, please follow the instructions if you want to survive.

Step 1: Survive the first night.

Quest: Survive The First Night

To complete this quest you, the user designated as Silas Victor Horne, must survive exactly 24 hours. To do this please follow these helpful steps.

Step 1: Check your "Status" you may perform this action by stating the word "Status" either out loud or in your thoughts.

The fuck? Silas thought as he watched the blue screens hovering in front of his face with great superstition.

He also noticed a distinct lack of bullets and death so he imagined his assailants were as distracted by this as he was and that he wasn't just going insane.

Well, this sure is a damn lick better than getting shot to death I suppose, might at least give it a shot. He though amusedly, if he was going to die he might as well go along with this little fantasy for a while longer.

"Status." He drawled out in his southern accent before nearly falling on his arse at the sudden appearance of yet another blue screen.

Name: Silas Victor Horne Level: 1 (exp toward level up 0/100%) Age: 34 Gender: Male Statistics: Str - 14 Agl - 15 Dex - 17 Cha - 7 Int - 12 Wis - 12 Con - 12 End - 16 Per - 15 Health - 120 - +1.2/second Stamina - 160 +1.6/second Mana - 90 +1.2/second Skills: Select Here For Skills

Well slap me silly and call me Sally ain't that something. He thought while performing a mental whistle, next he decided to check out his skills.

Skill List:

Knife Mastery lvl 7, Pistol Mastery lvl 17, Rifle Mastery lvl 12, Tracking lvl 10, Riding lvl 6, Intimidate lvl 4, Foraging lvl 8, Herbalism lvl 3, Skinning lvl 4, Cooking lvl 1, Sneak lvl 3, Craft (basic) lvl 5

Once again Silas couldn't help but be impressed by his own prowess, pistol mastery at level 17! Damn, I knew I was good but still, damn.

He was broken out of any further revelry by the blood-curdling death screams and gunshots from the men outside the bar, and, after taking cover for several seconds, enough to make certain the bullets were not intended for him he hustled toward the outside of the building. Because even though these men had tried to kill him he was still a U.S Marshall, and he would be damned if someone stole his kills.

He charged out of the swinging, gate-like entrance to the saloon pistol raised in front of him to be met with a grisly visage.

The townsfolk, covered in blood were currently tearing into each other and the bandits. Pinning them down with numbers instead of skill and then tearing them apart with teeth and claw.

Silas watched on stoically in the face of something most men would vomit at, for he had seen much in his time, and horrifying things seemed less and less horrifying.

One of the female villagers looked up from where she had dragged a bandit off his horse and toward Silas, her eyes were bloodshot and devoid of any life, she was also currently juggling the intestines of one of the bandits in her hands in a futile attempt to raise them to her mouth.

Reflex took over and Silas raised his gun, aiming for the center of her mass.

"Now miss look, you don't want to do this. Put the intestines down and lets you and me talk about this okay?" Silas said placatingly in an attempt to diffuse the situation. That was when the woman charged at him.

She lunged for his midsection and on reflex, He put a bullet into her chest, she fell down from the recoil, but not for long.

Silas was watching with abject terror as the woman he had just shot in the heart rose back from the grave, seemingly fine.

"The fuck is this?" He muttered raising his gun toward her head and putting another bullet right between the woman's eyes.

It hit her right in the forehead, splattering bone and brain matter onto the dusty street, and this time she went down for good.

Silas began to reload his weapon out of habit when yet another message interrupted him.

Congratulations on killing your first enemy 50 exp rewarded.

Silas stared at the screen for a few moments before uttering a phrase he had said far too many times in one day for his liking.

"The fuck is going on?"