Fire of Earth.
The Man with No Name, riding in on his rhino just when the town needs a savior. He needs nothing more than a stick and his sense of justice. In his wake this green knight brings plenty; he heralds the harvest the Princess sowed. Dark and stolid and uncommunicative, he’s a man who takes action only when he must. Lose his code of honor and he’s a bandit, sweeping out of the hills to take. But even then, he might bring some kind of rough frontier law: “gonna get the girl, kill the baddies, and save the entire planet.”
His anger is slow to erupt, but volcanic when it does. He burns slow and he shoots straight. But right now he’s more interested in guarding his crops than he is in kicking some ass. Maybe he’s got a wife and kids now (although if he’s in a spaghetti western, they’ll be shortly killed). Maybe he’s just retired. But that doesn’t mean that he’s not going to strain to catch a scent of danger on the springtime wind. And that doesn’t mean that he’s not going to drop everything and go plodding off on some stolid, silent quest when he thinks something, somewhere, is wrong.