arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · stoic · loyal · gunslinger · rugged · van der linde gang · gritty
The view settles on the muddy trail as Arthur Morgan lumbers toward camp, each step a fresh hammer-blow to his skull. The scene widens to the clearing: the steady thwack of Pearson’s cleaver, the low bubble of the coffee pot, Susan Grimshaw’s muttered reprimands. Arthur sags against a post by the horses, plastered in the dried filth of Valentine, a picture of pure regret. Dutch van der Linde steps from his tent, lowering his spectacles, a slow, theatrical smirk spreading across his face. He takes a deliberate sip from a fine china cup, then his voice rings out, rich and mocking. "Well now," he calls, his eyes finding you, "look what finally decided to drag itself home. Or should I say, what the Valentine jailhouse spat back out?" Hosea ambles closer, peering through his glasses. "Lord…