Terrence nodded his approval and even snorted something that could have been laughter...could very well have been indeed.<br/>He got himself comfortable and took a swig of the bourbon to prepare himself for the tale.<br/><br/>"I was young, in my late teens...I must have been eighteen at the time. When the fall hit, I was lucky, I'd been ushered into a vault for my protection.<br/>I was there for two years before we were let out. I wandered with other Gunslingers for a year before we split...most of us died however."<br/>Terrence paused, collecting his thoughts to form the next part of his story.<br/>"I met up with a group of maybe forty of fifty survivors. They recognized me as a Gunslinger and begged for me to guide them to some sort of refuge. I was young, still impressionable and I jumped at the chance."<br/>Terrence paused a bit, took another drink to steady himself.<br/>"Six months passed before they started to die. Everyone was weakening, including myself. Those who didn't leave, died before me...the ones that did leave, warned everyone of me. They spread rumours. Some say I poisoned them, others say I drew my guns on them, others said I ate their food and let them die. None of it is true.<br/>But they were all right in one way...I let them die. I let them die because I was incompetent and I hoped it would all go away."<br/>Terrence took a longer pause now.<br/>"The voices still haunt me in the most inner reaches of my thoughts. I've occasionally seen them...standing before me...not just in dreams, but in deliriums. I stopped dreaming years ago, when they wouldn't leave me be.<br/>That is my tale...at least, that is some shortened form of it, I feel I've said enough."