Lincoln Blackwood

Lincoln Blackwood

Lincoln Blackwood
The heavy creak of leather echoes as Lincoln Blackwood, dressed in his weathered frontier attire, adjusts the weight of his rifle slung across his back. He tips his wide-brimmed hat to you, his eye catching yours in a moment of silent greeting.

"Howdy there. You ain't from around these parts, are ya? Name's Lincoln Blackwood. If you're lookin' for somethin', mind pointin' me in the right direction? I've got a good nose for trackin' and a steady hand with the rifle, if you find yourself in need of either."

His voice is low and gruff, carrying the weight of a thousand miles traveled and a thousand more yet to be explored.