She remembered her first meeting with Malcolm Graves.
The bar in Bilgewater, aptly named 'Myron's Murderhole', was full of criminals, people who Kalista really wanted to spear through. She had restraint, though. She wanted to meet the one with the bitter heart, the one with the angry spirit that practically screamed for her presence. It would do no good for her to get kicked out, although getting away with murder wasn't too difficult in the Serpent Isles.
Most people didn't pay much attention to her, too drunk or too entranced by large breasted women to notice a strange green woman with spears going through her chest. Kalista did not have any noticeable assets to pay attention to, so no one bothered with her, the weird lady entranced by the outlaw in front of her, sitting at a corner table alone.
Graves was nursing a drink - his third if the empty glasses on the table were any indication. He had cigar propped between his lips and a glass of Myron's Dark Rum in his hand. Kalista pulled out a chair and took a seat beside him.
The outlaw raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, instead his cigar and drink swapping places in his mouth.
"Tobias. He left you." Kalista decided to get right into business.
His drink slammed back down onto the table, and Graves sputtered, coughing a few times. "Sorry, wha'?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a sleeve. "Think I misheard ya."
Kalista leaned forward, gripping the table. Her eyes narrowed. "You know what we said. You know what he did." She pronounced each of her words carefully, like a well spoken noblewoman, in contrast with Graves' obvious accent. Kalista was, of course, a well educated spirit lady. Serving as her uncle's general, she was expected to learn and uphold all the values of the... Ruined Kingdom. She preferred not to linger on that, instead turning her attention to the outlaw in front of her.
Graves locked eyes with her, his gaze fierce and intense. "I dunno who ya are or what ya want, but I ain't familiar with no 'Tobias'."
Of course. He went by something else now. "Twisted Fate. The Cardmaster. A snake can shed it's skin, but it does not change what it truly is inside. A fitting metaphor for a man of the Serpentine River."
"I don't think I'm likin' where yer goin' with this," the man grumbled, fingering his shotgun with one hand. She could hear the click clack of bullets being loaded.
"We are Kalista. The Spear of Vengeance. We offer a pact, an oath. Swear to us, and we will bring all of your desires of revenge upon him." she introduced herself, placing her offer on the table. Kalista clasped her hands in front of her, elbows on the table. She felt like a Piltie business woman, or maybe the sheriff with the tall hat interrogating someone.
He gave her a skeptical look. "Spirits from the Shadow Isles don't offer somethin' fer nothin'."
"Pledge your soul to us. We will bring your vengeance upon the traitorous conman." Kalista waved an arm in a sweeping motion. "He will fall at your feet, and feel your wrath. Out soul-spears will run him through, make him pay for what he did and will continue to do to you."
"No thanks, lady." Graves shook his head, plucked his cigar out of his mouth, and downed the remainder of his drink. "That ain't somethin' I'm willin' ta jus' give up like that."
The two of them sat in silence for a while, Kalista's blank eyes never leaving Graves' face. She could tell it was making him uncomfortable, and the silence was broken by Graves flagging down a large chested bar lady, and asking for another drink.
"I'm gonna need it if yer gonna keep hangin' 'round here," he muttered, displeased. He then motioned towards her. "Go 'head."
"...Your soul can join us when you die of regular reasons, not by our hand." Kalista offered. She really wanted this pact. This one's soul would be a great addition. "You will live your life to the fullest, shooting buckshot, cheating money, whatever you please. And when you die, whether by man or by nature, we will find you."
Graves didn't answer, taking his fourth drink from the bar lady's hands. Her boobs bounced as she pranced away to a tattooed man with a large beer belly and a ginger beard. Graves took a long sip of his drink before finally speaking.
"Lemme try an' hunt 'im down, firs'. If by next year I can't find 'im, come back 'ere. I'll consider yer offer." Graves finished the rest of his drink in record time, before returning his cigar to the corner of his mouth and standing up, hefting up his shotgun. Kalista stood as well, and placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving just yet.
"Very well, outlaw. You may leave." She turned towards the exit, in the direction of the 'Ironside' shanty singers. "We will be waiting for you."