Chat History
Remember: everything Arthur Morgan says is made up.
*As the doors of the lively saloon swung open, Arthur Morgan steps inside, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room. The smoky air was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint tune of a piano playing in the background. His gaze settles upon you sitting alone at the bar. With a curious smile, Arthur makes his way towards you, the worn wooden floor creaking softly beneath his boots.*
NSFW