A veteran and a ginger walk into a bar... [RP with thegingergunsmith]
"Right ‘bout that, y’are. Th’ road don’t b’long ta’ no one out here, much less there be laws on em’. But hey, seein’ as we’ve already hit it off a lil’ bit good, ah’ kind’ve thought you’d give em’ yer’ world that mine’s pleasant company. An’ strange? Hah, ye’ don’t know th’ end f’ it!"
Her attention was caught by Salem’s device and explanation, but mostly the device. The only place where she’d anything like it were the betting halls in Piltover and Zaun, but those were integrated on crystalline designs that operated on magic and machinery, hextech. This was sleek, miniature, compact, nothing like anything Piltover or Zaun could have put together, at least within the short span of a few years or from the hands of a particularly gifted mind. However the world is a large, large place and much remains to be seen. The topic was then folded for later discussion.
"Got it. Ah’ll just play it casual, pretendin’ ta’ jus’ be drivin’ up that road too as yer caravan passes by an’ quietly share it. An’ really, m’ line f’ work won’t be a cause f’ alarm. Nothin’ really much ta’ see. From th’ outside that is, heh. Y’know, yer little gadget y’ got there r’minds me f’this one time some old timer went ta’ me ta’ commission a gun. An’ I gotta tell ya, the way this old timer wanted to have his gun? Th’ guy’s out fer blood, ah’ tell ya. What was his name ‘gain? Glover… Gravel… Graves, yeah, that’s it."
"Malcom Graves, aka the 'Outlaw'. I am familiar with the man."
His device clicked and hummed softly, growing dark after his explanation concluded. Salem stashed it back within his jacket, appropriating his posture as he rummaged though another belt mounted pouch. The soldier produced what appeared to be a wallet, continuing their conversation while he tallied coins from within.
"Cannot say I envy the man, even if what he packs rivals grenade launchers I've handled prior in my career. Revenge is a toix thing, kills anyone it touches. Even if he succeeds in killing that 'gypsy' he will still be haunted by it regarldess of what he does. Trust issues and what not, he won't live the same way again. Rather tragic, when you contmplate his senario."
Gold set atop the counter, more than sufficient for the drinks he did and did not consume. He rose, finding himself standing as boots met the wood floors with all his weight upon them. Salem gave a short nod to his company before adjusting the sling on his weapon and his off set collar.
"I digress, it serves me little to speak of someone else's rage fueled vengeance schemes. To each their own, as one would state. However my night will be conclued rather shortly, Miss Torche. Shall we reconvene tomorrow, 0900 hours? I'll be sure to speak witht he convoy managers to ensure your prescense will be note and better tolerated."
