My Name is Shootitor, and I am a gunslinger… this is my story.
I grew up in the mean streets of Prontera. No one knew my name, except for this one jerk who was always bullying me.
Eventually this so called ‘mobster’ got on my nerves so I was forced to take things into my own hands with a very large lime.
I have been on the run ever since apparently this jerk had a lot of friends.
This continued for some time through many towns and many large limes.
Until I at last came to Morroc and met this strange man.
I don’t know why he thought my name was Spike.. That sounds like someone who would like Beebop music. He showed me some wanted poster from the Einbroch Private Club so I took that poster and ran away. Man I need to get these guys off my back. So I guess it was off to Einbroch.
As you can see they were VERY excited to see me.
Turns out this club is a bar with many sinister characters… laying out… drunk… at a bar. I guess I understand.
Gah! They were all bounty hunters!
Strangest recruiting methods ever, they could have just asked. But apparently they want me to join them. But first there is a test. There is always a test!
This doesn’t look dangerous at all. No sir!
They said I had to make a new gun. I don’t know why they made me wear this wig and costume. I feel like this is a hazing ritual.
First I had to use the machine to shape the raw metal.
Then I had to assemble the gun on this anvil here.
Apparently next it was target practice time.
It was tough.. they made me wear the costume and wig again. All the targets had the same outfit on. What is going on here?
Looks like I am a rebel now.
Reserved.
