"Two-hundred thousand zenny, and this baby's yours." said the shady shopkeeper.
"Tell ya what, this desert's pretty hot, i'll give ya one-hundred thousand, and these here jugs of water." said Warren. Although he had plenty of money, Warren loved to haggle, and as he always said, you don't get my fortune by spending it.
"Oh fine, I'll do it, but just cause I like ya." replied the shopkeeper, a total stranger to Warren.
Warren smiled as he walked away with his new prize. He knew good and well what it was, even if the ignorant shopkeeper didn't. As he arrived at the inn, he put his new gun, alonside his old factory made arbalest. He admired his new prize more for its historical value, but he would definately use it for its intented purpose when he found the right task. His shiney weapon was mostly covered in the silver scales of the dreaded rathalos, nicknamed sol by many, and a gold-scale fin protruded, made from rathian scales, nicknamed luna by locals. This was the gun that belonged to the Guardian Angel. The shop keeper had found it in a rock-slide, and was unaware of its power. Warren had dreamed his whole life of owning this gun, which was called Profusion, by its previous owner.
Caught of guard while admiring his find, he almost fell over when he heard someone knock on his room's door.
"This is him huh? The fourth one?" said a soft wisper from the otherside.
Against his instincts, Warren opened the door. He was met by three men. Two of them were hunters, one larger than the other. The third was obviously a militiaman.
"Can i help you?" questioned the confused Warren.
"Yes, we need your assistance with a dangerous hunt. You in?" said the smaller hunter.
"What if I'm not?" challenged the gunner.
The large knight-like militiaman stepped forward. "You are." was all he said, before his large metalic fist raised up, and everything went black.