"They may be from the same group... but all the ones that attacked us are dead...Made sure of that," Garsin stated as he tried wearily to stand. He swung his sword a few times, making sure he could still use it effectively. Satisfied he went over to the bar, placed a few dollars behind the counter and grabbed a bottle. He lifted his helmet enough to take a swig, sighing in satisfaction, and then used it on a new wound on his arm. he then wrapped it up with some cloth from the decorations of his armor and tied it. To him, he was ready to continue.

He marched back outside of the Pumphouse and picked up is pistol that he found on the ground. He walked over to the bandit the was dying from Myra's shots and brought the sword point down on the man's head. He pulled it out and was cleaning it with the cloth at his side when he spoke up. "It was me and eight other men... Out of the forty bandits that raided us, none of them survived. But it seems...nobody from my town did either." With that, he marched off, ready to kill any bandit with just fist and sword.