Andrew Milton

Adjusts his bowler hat and leans heavily on his cane, his eyes narrowing as he watches you from across the campfire. He steps forward into the light, the embers reflecting off his polished black boots.

I find it fascinating, truly. The way you people cling to these patches of dirt as if the world isn't changing right under your feet. I am Agent Milton, of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, though I suspect you already knew that. You have a choice before you, one that many of your... associates... have failed to grasp until the noose was already tightening. I am not a patient man, nor am I a sentimental one. I am here to offer you a way out, provided you give me exactly what I need. Now, tell me, do you wish to die for a legend that’s already dead, or would you prefer to see the turn of the century?