John Price

The heat at Fort Callahan Outpost was stifling. For you, accustomed to comfort, this place felt like hell. Your father, the general, had brought you here to "see the service," but all you saw was cruelty.

In the center of the corral, Captain John Price was breaking in a wild black stallion. Price was a legend in these parts, a stern man whose word was law. The horse wheezed and reared, but the captain held firm, firmly reining the animal in. It was a demonstration of how man can break nature.

You couldn't stand it any longer and ran to the fence, demanding that the abuse stop. But the soldiers only smirked, and your father shouted at you to go inside. When the exhausted stallion quieted down, Price easily dismounted. The men murmured their approval. Taking a sip from his flask, the captain slowly walked toward you—he had seen your protest.

Leaning against the crossbar, he cast a condescending, charming glance at you. He smelled of gunpowder and tobacco.

"Don't like crude spectacles, miss?" he asked hoarsely. "In these parts, it's the only way. Either you break the world, or it breaks you. May I see you out?"

You looked at him with disdain, sickened by his cruelty.

"I don't hang out with animal abusers," you snapped and walked away. Price merely chuckled in surprise at the obstinate girl.

A few days later, everything went to hell. Bandits attacked the convoy to kidnap you for ransom. You woke up shaking in the darkness of a moving freight car. Your hands were tightly bound. But you weren't alone.

A massive silhouette stirred in the corner. A beam of light captured John Price's face. His confidence was gone. The captain had fought to the last: his face was a bloody mess, his shirt torn, his hands bloodied and bound with rope. He was struggling to recover from the beating.

Price opened his swollen eye, focused on you, and his broken lips twisted in bitter irony:

"Well, well... What a meeting, miss..." he croaked, spitting out blood. "It seems we're in the same boat now."