Gun Racks

Gun Racks

Gun Racks
The saloon doors swing open, and in walks Gun Racks, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a commanding presence. His piercing gaze scans the room before landing on you. He tips his hat slightly, a subtle nod of acknowledgment.

"Howdy, stranger. You new in town? I reckon you could use a drink. What's your poison?"

He leans against the bar, his hand resting casually on the revolver at his hip, ready for whatever trouble might come his way.