Gunslinger in westores

It was sixteen years ago when Ned had met the man; he had tools that were of foreign land; he wore black trousers, a queer cap that was leather and molded in such a fashion it was meant to block the sun and rain. He wore a leather coat, a brown one, and had that queer weapon to his waist he called a gun. A revolver, he said.

 It was some moons ago when the rebellion occurred; there were very few men to guard the north, raids had occurred more often than not, and lords and a bannerman were asking for gold to protect their lands. He had come to a raided town near the creywens and the pool lands. Some wildlings had come from beyond the wall. Raiding and pillaging, raping, and killing anyone they saw. Elijah, on his horse he called Midnights, hunted them down one by one. It was a fire that came from that weapon, and it was not just one that he had but two of them on his waist and another at his back, but that was kept on the side of the horse, he claimed, that if he were too lazy to chase a man, then he would put a hole to the back of his spine or blow his head off.

Small villages and towns in the north had begun to hear of this man, who said. "if you give me a small amount of food and mead, then I will do the job for you." And that he did. They offered him the little they could, and soon, he rode after them, shooting them as they ran or ganged up on him, thinking he was only one man. And indeed, he was, but this man showed no fear when it came to numbers; he shot them down one by one and only spared the woman and children of the wildlings, the children that were too young to understand what had occurred to their parents.

How lord Stark, the warden of the north, met the man was shrouded in mystery; however, it was a simple story. Elijah had come to Winterfell; the warden of the north had heard of him and how he releases fire from his hands. And offered a good some of coin to the man. Elijah had gone on to call himself a bounty hunter.

What that was, lord Stark did not know, but he had an idea: you give me a coin or whatever you could pay with, and I will do the job required of me, in this case and matter. It meant killing and endless killing.

Of course, that is not how they met; the job was only Offred as a rouse. However, the danger was real. "you say that there are bandits in the Wolfswood, and lord stark wishes them gone?" Elijah asked an elderly man; he was looking at a post, a parchment nailed outside a building that was made of old brick stone. "What part of that did you not understand? Wildlings, bandits, thieves, he wants them gone." The man snapped. His hair was old and grey, and his eyes were a deep blue hue.

"Lord Stark would have gone himself, but Lady Stark, well, she doesn't want him to risk going to another battle just yet, the rebellion and all that, well will you take the job?"

"Aye I will," Elijah said. this was new. Usually, it was the leaders of small villages that would hire him, but to think a lord of the north would do the same. Perhaps there was more to this. "which way to the Wolfswood." He asked.

" Hold on, young man, you can go on the morrow; it is almost dawn; by tonight, the Wolfswood would be a freezing nightmare for any man; you would turn to A Other. The elder warned.

" an Other," Elijah laughed. "You are a funny man. However, I have not earned the name fire hands for no reason; I am hot as I am good at killing; tell lord stark that I want my pay tonight." The elderly man took a long look at the man before him, and as Elijah moved to the side and pushed out his jacket to rest his hand on his revolver, the man saw it. He fell back and said, "It is you," he exclaimed. "Me, I am me," Elijah said.

"You are that bounty hunter, the man who kills hundreds and leaves only a hole in bodies; I have seen your work." However, the elderly man had more of a confusion look then one of fear. "You are so young; we could have used you in the rebellion." The old man was known as a grey beard, he was part of Ned Starks host, for when he called the banners. And part of the very few who survived.

"I have heard about that; I recently came to this land a few moons ago; what was that about this rebellion?" he asked.

"You don't know." The grey beard asked. "The rebellion, the old mad King killed Lord Stark's older brother Brandon and his father, lord Stark; his son kidnapped the lady Lyanna and took her god knows where. And the old king asked for the heads of Lord Stark and Robert Boratheon, the new king of the seven kingdoms."

"No, wonder why they keep saying seven kingdoms; now that makes sense," Elijah said. he was confused about why they kept calling this land the Seven Kingdoms; they were a strange people, calling him lord and whatnot; he had gone over to the sandy shores once and saved a village there; they called him the lord of that land. Though it was a nice place, he had spotted sea wolves there, a rare species of wolves that hide from human sight.

"Where have you been this whole time? How do you not know there are seven kingdoms." Greybeard said. "I don't ask a lot of questions." He turned to his right and began to walk. He had on his black cowboy hat, and his boots were made of leather with large soles that made a fine print on the ground he stepped on.

He walked past the many people who were in Winterfell; behind him followed his black stallion; he walked over to the hunter gate. To go to the wolfwood. "who goes there." He heard one of the guards say.

"Elijah." He answered. "I was told if I wanted to go to the Wolfswood, I would need to go through this gate, I have some hunting to do." The guard looked at him and around his horse. "You have no bow and no sword. Have you not heard of the news of the wolfwood? Bandits and wildlings have overrun it. Turn around now, boy." The man warned.

The guard was a young man in his mid-thirties. His eyes were deep green, his jaw had a grey beard, and the crown of his head was balding. "I have my weapons, " Elijah said, pushing the flap of his jacket aside to show the revolver. He looked back on the side of the saddle of his horse to show the Winchester rifle with a long optic. "You're him," the guard said, and the others around him pricked their ears. "Fire hands."

"People keep calling me that, but since you know me, would you please let me handle this for our liege lord?" The guard was more than willing to help. He allowed passage and even praised the man. The others around him bumped him with their elbows to determine who that man was.

"He is fire hands, the man who killed hundreds of wildlings all over the north, he is all the lords of the north speak about. He is here in Winterfell; someone go tell lord Stark that Fire hands is here." A small child listened in on the conversation; he had no tongue and wore garbs; in his hands, he had a small book to write what was said and walked away. Spies.

The news was brought to lord stark of the man he had been looking for; he needed such a man in the North, perhaps to be one of his guards. He had done a great deal of service for the north, helping him fight back against the wildlings.

Elijah, ever the nonchalant person, walked in the snow of the north; his weight made the snow under him weigh under his foot and pressure; harsh winds blew to one side, making his jacket lean to one side.

His gloved hands could now feel the cold temperatures. He needed to reach the woods. "Come on midnight." He said, leading the horse by the reigns; he was atop it, riding. They could not ride hard and fast. They knew not what was underneath the snow. Soon enough, they reached the lines of the snow and trees. And entered.

Here, snow was stopped by the tall trees of the forest, the pine trees grey astronomical heights. Taking off his hat, he shook some snow off of it. and dismounted. The old beast. "And led it to a nearby tree. Tied the reins on a small branch of wood. "Stay." He said, giving a simple command.

He could already feel it. The day's hard work coming, killing and gunslinging is all he has known; in truth, this pursuit of such things did not come for the selfless need to protect others but a selfish one. revenge. In the words he had read somewhere. When seeking revenge, dig two graves. However, Elijah made ten graves and one for him waiting at home, the place where it all began.

His father, a generous man, had invited some old man into their home; this man was lying on a rock, dying in the heat of the old west near the border of Mexico. His mother was an Indian, and his father was a white man with red hair and blue eyes. He had inherited his father's blue eyes but his mother's olive skin and was tanned like a Dornish. His hair had whisps of red and a deep jet black; he cut it to the sides and made it shorter to remind himself that the revenger had been served. For fifteen years, he had chased the man who killed and hanged his father's corpse like a hog, raped, stripped his mother, and allowed birds to feast on her flesh; he had cut off her teats and raped her dead corpse. A small boy of ten had to see all that.

It does things to a man, to a child to see a thing like that; you're never the same, all the sense of happiness, sadness, anguish, all of it gone, but anger. Like a brimming fire, it burned. And when he had finished placing those bodies in those graves, there was nothing but emptiness. He died alone.

However, he realized it now. He had a chance now; this whole thing of knights and chivalry was new to him. But he figured he could give it a try. A family, a wife, and servants—based on the system here, it was easy to do. So, he would do that. His reward would be a lordship, and perhaps he would create one of those keeps. In his spare time back then, he would read books about building stuff. Why not here?

He had been walking a while now. Nothing in sight but snow and green grass, with small broken branches. But as he looked to the tracks, he had been following all this while, he knew there were close by. It was not until the sound of a broken branch came to him that he knew he was surrounded.

"What do we have here, a lone man in the Wolfswood." Said one of the men. Some of them wore pelts, and their eyes crazed with greed; they had knives to their waists and hats made of squirrel and raccoon pelts. "Kill him and be done with it. We don't want our position to be found." There were fifteen of them all looking at him, as he had said nothing until now.

"Before you kill me, would you do me a favor?" One of them laughed at Elijah, who only offered a small smile. "A favor? Who do we look like, Boy? We are poachers, but I will hear of this favor," the man said.

He was a broad man with black hair and greyish hair, and he was the oldest of the men who stood with him. he had an axe in his hands and a large dagger to his waist that could carve into a man, perhaps cutting them In half.

"Would you stand over there when you are about to kill me?" Elijah pointed to where all the others were. And like a fool, the man agreed. By this time, dawn was here, and the hues of the sun had turned orange, and if the first shot rang out, it would attract all matters of enemies.

He was quick with his reach, taking the handle of his revolvers; both hands swung out in a cross manner and began to shoot. Each man was given a bullet in their chest; others were not so lucky, and their heads exploded, the base of their skull split wide open, and brain matter flew everywhere.

There was a loud, deafening sound that came. With the shots and when all was done, there was nothing but silence. All were dead within minutes. The sound traveled to Winterfell as the guards on the walls looked to the Wolfswood and saw flocks of birds flying from the tree into the sky. Lord Stark was above the walls when he, too, saw it.

It was in the dark when Elijah returned; the gates of Winterfell were closed, and the castle was asleep. Some guards had managed to find a seat to relax when sleep came to them, too. However, a bright torch in the Wolfswood led them to wake. Their brothers on guard woke them by patting them on the shoulder or chest. "Look there." Elijah was atop his horse, and behind him were poachers, wildlings, and bandits; they all surrendered to one man. Fire hands. It was not he was below the guards that he could speak.

"These are now lord Stark's prisoners; I have poachers, wildlings, and bandits." There was a gasp and a pause. "Bring them in, lead them to the cellars, and we will speak of this on the morrow... so they were led into the cells and crowded the dungeons of Winterfell.

"Might I find a place for me to sleep," Elijah asked.

"Not in Winterfell, you won't, but in winter town, knock on the door and give some coin to the tavern or brothel owner; here, one of my men will lead you." He did not know who he was speaking to at that time, but it was Ser Rodrick Cassel. It is one of the vassal houses to the stake that were stationed in Winterfell... Elijah arrived at the brothel and asked for a room, he was given one, and he went on to sleep.