((Curt, I sent you a PM a while back. You thought about the proposal?))
The stranger leaned onto the reiling of the balcony and watched the people go about on their business for a while. It was a hot day and it seemed like the sun was burning right above the town. The well in the middle of the town was low on water, as the mayor had been having some trouble with the neighbour town which held the only water tank in the nearby area. That meant that the well wouldn't be filled until either the two mayors managed to strike a deal or rain came. Inthe latter situation, the water would have to be purified, which would instead cause trouble as the government didn't want to transport low quantities to small places instead of high quantities to larger areas.
The rider picked up his rifle and took it with him as he left the balcony and entered his hotel room. Taking off his poncho, he revealed a shirt and below that a skin-right bullet-proof vest. He checked the vest for wear and tear before putting the shirt back to cover it and then the poncho ontop of that and the cowboy hat on his head. The man opened the saddle bag and took some ammunition for his revolvers and several throwing knives which he placed into slots on his belt before walking to the door. It was highly unlikely that the mayor hadn't sent people after him, so he got ready before opening the door. As he closed the door and was ready to lock it, a man jumped into the hallway from the staircase leading to the next floor. The stranger dove back into his room right before the sudden arrival's shotgun rang out, tearing the walls with buckshots. As he entered the room after the stranger, he treaded carefully, not knowing where his target for assassination was. After going all the way to the balcony, he found out. The click sounding from the cock of the hammer alerted him of the figure mere inches away, clinging onto the wall like spider man with a gun. A gasp of air. A boom. Splatter of blood on the open balcony door. And on top of that, civilians and the Sheriff looking that way. The stranger grunted, holstered the revolver and threw the body off the balcony and in the middle of the street with the shotgun. He tilted his hat to the sheriff and looked at the blood on the balcony door. He walked back inside, closing the door and going all the way to the hallway. The stranger locked the door and then walked to the reception area.
"Sorry 'bout the mess. Put it on my bill" he said while he walked out of the hotel and looked at the crowd suddenly changing side of the road or disappearing into the alleyways and into the piles of trash. The man merely smirked and started to walk towards the nearest store.
Support your local Pirates - So the feds won't go Orwellian on your ass.
"Either we, as a society, decide that copyright is the greater value to society, and take active steps to give up private communications as a concept. Either that, or we decide that the ability to communicate in private, without constant monitoring by authorities, has the greater value - in which case copyright will have to give way. My choice is clear."
- Rickard Falkvinge