[ WP ] You are ronin . Masterless and in a foreign country .

The steps came slowly now, a hard clack and jingle as the boots creaked over the floorboards. 
 
 Above them, the man's duster swayed with each step, above it, a tan fist clutched a revolver, and above *that* a wide, gold-toothed grin spread itself underneath a cowboy hat. 
 
 `` Hands up!'' his voice rang through the saloon, `` This is a robbery!'' Behind him, his posse chortled, hands eagerly gripping their rifles and shotguns. Greedy fists shoveled money into sacks, and the criminals were about to escape into the Western day when... 
 
 `` You there!'' the bandit turned, `` Why ai n't your hands up?'' 
 
 Before him sat a samurai. His rice hat was pushed over his eyes, his body leaning back in a chair, one hand over his stomach and the other gently resting over his katana. The hat shifted gently with his snores; he was taking a nap. 
 
 `` Answer m --'' 
 
 A pale thumb flicked up against the sword's hilt, sending the pommel out from its sheath with a *shunk* and straight into the nose of the bandit. The swordsman sprang up, kicking the table into his adversary's companions and catching his katana coolly in midair. 
 
 `` Get'im!'' the robber cried through a hand over his bloodied nose, but a flash of metal interrupted him; a spurt of red and a cut appeared over his poncho. 
 
 By then, the posse had freed themselves from the burden of having a table offset onto them, and a staccato of gunfire erupted. The saloon's bottles shattered, one by one, following the swordsman as he swerved and dodge their bullets. 
 
 He leaped, running a bandit through with his sword. A revolver turned on him, only to find itself cut in two and its owner with a fist in his face. Withdrawing his sword, he sent it backwards, right at the neck of a robber sneaking up to him. 
 
 `` Leave.'' 
 
 The survivors stumbled over each other as they hastily retreated from the bar. 
 
 Slowly, the katana slid itself back into its sheath, and the samurai leaned over and picked his traveling pack back up. He started to the door. 
 
 `` What are you?'' The bartender peeked his head out from under the counter. 
 
 The swordsman turned his head slightly. 
 
 `` Ronin.'' 
 
 And with that, he set off into the desert day.
