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it is 1865, in last chance, colorado. the sun is blazing, without mercy in the hot summers, and more gentle during the cooler seasons. deserts stretch for miles, forming into prairies and rivers, mountains and platueas. cattle are scattered over the rolling hills, men on horseback watching over them with rifles at their shoulders and hips. water-filled flasks, and the occasional whiskey-filled one, are at hand, hanging from the western saddles upon their stocky mustangs and range horses. calm is about the area, and peace is like a blanket over the range.. but it is only for the time. the civil war has ended, just a few months back, and the blacks are now free men. lynch mobs are just starting up, and the cattle-dealing business is booming. outlaws are strengthening in numbers, such names as billy the kid, wild bill hickock, jimmy miller, jesse james, john wesley hardin, john king fisher, jim willy, frank leslie, henry starr, the apache kid, bill moone, billy and ben johnson are becoming more infamous with each passing kill. women live in fear of rape and the murder of their husbands, while women of the evening drown their misery in bottles of whiskey with their partners of the night. cowboys toss their monthly wages onto poker tables, losing all, winning a night beneath the lean-to for a bed. a new boomtown, last chance, it offers cash, women, a good bottle of whiskey, and good housing. hospitality is an unspoken law, no matter the visitor, as well as the protection of cattle. your cattle are you money, the more the richer. cowpokes grow more miserable with each passing season, arms weary with the long prods used to load the stubborn stock into the train cars, and the main focus of the town being the stockyard where around 1200 cattle can be handled per season. mexicans are just as hard-headed, refusing any sip of any alcoholic beverage, probably the most focused and most fierce breed of man out on the expansive ranges. this is 1865, last chance, colorado. you are here on your own, way out west, with a meager wad of cash, one horse, one packing ass, and one hope for something better. can you make it, or are you just another outlaw waiting for your early end? 1865 | Civil War | Town Wars | Old West Cowboys | Toteros | Outlaws | Prostitution Creativity | Talent | Respect | Imagination Rated: PG13-R | Violence | Language PWN3D & [c] MiTCH  Last Chance v.1 Desertion www.geocities.com/lastchanceatlife05/intro.html HTML & LAYOUT [c] MiTCH |