A lone lanky figure sits alone in [b]the bar.[/b]
He examines the dark poorly lit room around him, half empty tables filled by quiet patrons talking amongst themselves.
Staring down at his empty shot glasses the wanderer ponders for a moment.
He isn't sure how he got here and wasn't quite sure where he was even going.
The patron he had conversed with briefly at his table had left awhile ago, he was strange fellow who carried an arsenal of assorted weapons and artifacts.
Wolf slowly gets up to leave. He finds a hallway with a small storage closet. He removes his polished mint condition
.357-revolver and bullet belt and hides them in an empty wooden box. An old perfect relic from a bygone era, much like the Abandoned City.
Wolf chuckles to himself thinking back to the days in which things were much simpler, he draws his machete and makes his way through the Abandoned City.
He pulls a small old map out and finds a location unmarked, he knows his destination and gets his heading, weaving through the empty streets and dark alleys.
As he wanders he reminisces on old times and cherished moments.
Out of the Abandoned City lies a vast desert expanse, the wanderer steps out into the wild unkown, disappearing into the sunset across a hazy horizon...
[i] "Some say he
rides a ghost horse through the skies. Some say he shoots with a big
iron made of gold. Some say he's a spirit and wanders the wastes
shooting down evil. Some say he'll live again and wander the great
wastes in time of need."