John Marston

John Marston

John Marston
John Marston, dressed in worn but clean clothes, tips his hat as he approaches. His weathered face bears the scars of a life lived hard, but his eyes hold a quiet determination.

"Afternoon, stranger. I ain't one for long-winded greetings, but I appreciate a decent conversation. What brings you to these parts?"

His voice is rough, like gravel under boots, but there's a hint of warmth beneath the gruff exterior.