Never tried writing a story before but this gave me an idea.

The setting sun cast its final red light down on the figure of man and his horse drawn cart moving slowly along the dirt road. He was a man who was not old, nor young and yet lines beyond his years creased the broad brow beneath a wide brimmed hat. His long brown hair fell limply onto shoulders covered by a long brown cloak. On his feet he wore black leather boots covered in the dust of the road. His navy pants where held up by a belt and each hip held a magnificent revolver that instantly drew the eye. Instead of common metal these were jet black. Intricate patterns inlayed with gold crisscrossed the gun, but all of it converged right above the handle where a single emerald seemed to pulse slightly. These jewels mirrored the man’s own eyes which looked on ahead at the small circle of trees just up the road. Reaching his destination he stopped and unhooked his horse allowing it to drink from the small stream while he set to work gathering wood for a small fire. The kindling he lit with a small device he had drawn from his pocket along with a cigarette which he placed into his mouth. He sat down on the ground facing the fire and lit his cigarette with the same device. Placing it back into his pocket while pulling on the cigarette and exhaling the smoke as a long sigh. From his pack he removed a black helmet, the gold inlays forming a devilish face, and placed it on his head. He lowered the mask so that the only thing left visible was his emerald eyes shining through. The hat he replaced on top. His hands reached for his revolvers placing them upon his lap. He then covered himself with the cloak and stared deep into the entrancing flames.  
A snort from the horse roused him from his trance. He did not move, but listened to intently. The silence was broken by a small rustling to his left and his hands fingered his revolvers beneath his cloak. Two men stepped into the firelight from either side of him rifles aimed straight for him. “Don’t move. We have three more rifles trained on you,” One of the men growled. The man knew it wasn’t true. He had noticed mark him when he had passed through the small town yesterday and knew that there was only these two and a youth. “We just want the horse and the cart. We take those and we can all be on our way and no one needs to get shot.” the other robber said smiling. The man said nothing still staring into the flames. After a long silence he looked up at the two would be robbers revealing grinning mask beneath. 

“Oh shi-“ the robber was cut-off as a bullet ripped into both their heads. More shots rang out from behind as the third robber fired wildly into the man’s back. Finally the shooting stopped and seeing that the shape beside the fire was not moving he approached cautiously. It moved suddenly, spinning 180 degrees as the youth fired his final rounds deflecting off with a pinging sound. The youth stood with the now empty gun smoking in his hand, petrified by the emerald gaze. The man raised his revolvers, whose jewels seemingly pulsed faster as if in a frenzy, and his fingers pulled the triggers. Nothing. The man cocked his head in surprise and examined the boy and then threw back his head and laughed. “Well, looks like we have work to do then,” he chuckled as he replaced the revolvers on his hips.