Malcolm Bright

"Right, the not driving thing." Raylan followed in step, leaning in to stare at the mace. "I didn't think they let stuff like this outta museums. Ya know, government and cultural historical rights and all that crap. Thirteenth century?" he asked, turning to look back at Malcolm. He trusted that Malcolm was telling the truth, no question, but he was clearly impressed.

"This was not the level of fancy I expected, I will be honest. This is something I'd expect in some.. BDSM dungeon or something as a backdrop."