Characters Name: Porter Cole
Gender - Male
Race: White
Age:43

Physical Description:
At 43 years old Porter is in fairly good shape. At 6 foot 1 inch and 15 stone, Porter casts quite a large shadow. Receding black hair tops a shallow and gaunt face, his green eyes poke out over a hooked nose. The only real distinguishing feature is the thin moustache.

Weaknesses & Strengths:
Although Porter is physically fit and strong, these are not the first qualities that you associate with the man. Quiet, unassuming on the outside, but essentially very manipulating and cold. He has no friends and family that he keeps in contact with. His only companion is his Retreiver Dog, Jesse. He would never take a life unneccessarily, however if there was something to be gained...who knows.

Socially unskilled and apathetic, he needs nothing or no-one.

Gear & Weapons:
He carries an 1861 Navy Colt, cross drawn in a hip high brown leather holster. A small Dirk (knife) sits in a sheath on the small of his back.

What Type of Character:
A Drifter who wants to settle

Assets:
Porter has made enough money in his life to ensure that he will never have to work hard for a living again, but not enough to help him live the life of luxury. At some point he will have to get a job.

He has $3,000 in an account at the First Bank in Two Springs, and deeds to a very small farm on the road between Two Springs and Bourges on the west side of the open range, in which he lives.

Background:
Son of Irish Immigrants, Porter left home when he was 16. Tried his hand at most jobs from buffalo hunting to dealing cards, but could never settle in one spot.

Drifting from town to town, he always managed to get involved in business that was... inappropriate. On the reverse side, Porter has also worn a Lawmans badge and rode shotgun for stage and trains from time to time. Fitting between two worlds, neither side feeling comfortable, he kept on moving.

He had nothing to do with the war between the states, although he sympathised with the south, he really didnt care either way who won, his life of near solitutde would be hardly affected.

Short scenario:
It was 6 or maybe 7 in the evening, the time was irrelevant. Cole new it was evening because the light was dimming and he was hungry.

Porter sat on a rocker on the veranda of his small house. It was more like a shack in truth, but it was only a temporary situation. He struck another match against his heel and re-lit his pipe for the fourth time in as many minutes. The wind had picked up slightly. The smell of cooking ham wafted out of the door and Porter knew it wouldnt be long before it was ready.

He'd seen the stranger approaching from the North more than 5 minutes ago and already had the Navy colt sitting on his lap.

The rider was too far away to recognise and even when the distance narrowed Porter knew he wouldnt recognised him, he knew no-one out here to recognise. It was definately a "him", the way the rider moved on the horse had no feminine attributes at all.

Finally the Dog saw the Rider and started to bark, half-heartedly. Age had certainly crept up on the dog and he wasnt running anymore, like Porter he was content to sit all day on the veranda.

"Okay, quiet down Jesse" Porter said, almost whistling between his teeth and the pipe. The dog growled a little more, just to make his point and then he dropped to the floor.

The Rider would soon make his intentions clear. The gate way to the Farm was coming up, If he passed by, porter would put the Colt back in its holster and fry some eggs to go with the ham. Ham and eggs would have to wait, the horseman turned down the pathway to the farm and Porter responded in the only way he knew, he pulled back the hammer on his pistol.

"Evening Stranger" Porter said. He made his hand on the Colt obvious.

The Rider climbed down slowly from his horse "Evening Mr Cole, I'm Francis Hicks" he paused as though that was explaination enough. Porter remained motionless... "of the Friscumbe and Beachers Law firm." he continued "I have brought you a package from Mr Beachers, he requested that I put it in your hand personally."

Cole pushed the pistol back in to his holster "Want some ham and eggs?" he said. "Thank you" said Hicks "But im a Jew"

"Just eggs then?"

"I'd be obliged to you Mr Cole"

The stranger made himself comfortable in the Shack and tucked into the eggs. Porter provided some bread and coffee too.

After the meal Porter threw the scraps on to the floor and Jesse shuffled his way over to the meal that awaited him.

"You said about the package, could you pass it to me?"

Hicks obliged

Inside was three thousand dollars, which would soon be in the First Bank of Two Springs, and a document in which he released control of the "Duck Feather Saloon" in a small backwater town in Kansas.

"You need to sign the paperwork and then I can be on my way" Hicks said

Porter Cole read the document and signed at the bottom. With his pipe back in his mouth, Porter escorted Hicks back to his horse.

"Should you wish to get hold of me Mr Cole, I'll be at Meg's Hotel til tomorrow"

Porter Nodded.

"Thanks for the Eggs" Hicks said as he turned his horse and made his way to the road... Porter remained silent. When Hicks rode out of earshot he bent down to fuss Jesse "Never trust a man who turns down ham and eggs for eggs and bread"

Porter sat back down in the rocker and puffed on his pipe, Jesse slept next to him.