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I’m unsure we did raid a bunch of their stores but the only one I was there for was the one on their chocolate shops and factories...

"So.." Lief grinned, his gaze remaining on his toxic beverage as he continued watching it swirl. "You had a lower position..?" It was a habit of his to attempt to push another’s buttons, and he quite enjoyed it. "I mean, of course, you were only needed to raid a chocolate factory, correct?"

Nein... raiding and looting is a war crime I was just part of the mob of angry hungry Germans... *he pulled out a Swiss Army knife and showed it to him* this was a souvenir I found on one of their men I killed... pretty isn’t it??

blend looked at the knife that guy pulled out that he showed lief. blend said mockingly "it's decent, that's all I'm gonna say" he grinned. "any other weapons?"

Lief yawned, muttering beneath his breath, "Oi. I’ll admit- It is.. something. Probably worth sellin’." He furrowed his eyebrows in attempt to cover his interest in the weapon. He hasn’t known to feel threatened or just impressed Hans had pulled the switchblade on him. He straightened his posture, taking advantage of his towering stance.

*he turned to bend and placed his freshly cleaned Luger on the table as he smirked* this baby saved my life a good few times... I remember when my platoon has been wiped out and the Swiss were closing in on me when I pulled it my luger and shot all 5 of ‘em* he picked up the Swiss Army knife and flipped out the blade revealing it to be serrated* and as one of the bodies dropped this baby dropped out of their pocket right in front of my face... so I took it as a trophy...

Lief raises his brows, guessing he should pretend to be slightly interested. "Why don’t ya sell it? I’m guessin’ a couple rumors and that thing is worth as much as gold." He’d gladly return the smirk, folding his arms. He was skilled when it came to thieving, lying, or combat, and he was proud of it. Though, it explained the ‘Wanted Dead Or Alive’ signs and the threats he had received from fellow folk.

Nein I won’t sell it anytime soon and here’s why.. *he pointed to an inscription in some kind of demonic lexicon written on the blade in small letters* that right there means that the Swiss were looking into demonic power as well and from what I can translate it says that the blade curses all those who are pierced by it’s blade with a slow and painful demise if it doesn’t kill them...

He opened his mouth to speak, but he quickly shut it. He had to admit, he was curious about the ‘Demonic power’ and the killing and such of sorts, but.. what the Hell?
He shook his head, his pale face returning to its normal tone. "Oi. Can ya tell me more about this ‘demonic power’ of yours?" Lief tapped his foot lightly, running his hands through his hair. Though he was attempting to cover his giant horns, they still perked over his white curls.

Well like I said this is a very old language and I can only translate the part I told you but like I said it appears to be a cursed blade that promises the slow and painful death of all who are pierced by it...

Lief nodded, exhaling. "Could I see it for a moment?" He extended his hand, lifting one eyebrow. "The language.. Sounds fascinating."

Sure but just don’t try anything... *he griped his pistol as he hesitantly handed him the knife*

Lief would inhale sharply, his gaze shifting to the pistol. He thought over the situation. Though the bullet would cause overall misery, he wouldn’t be overwhelmed with death. He chuckled, gripping the hilt of the knife. "Listen.. We’re all good spirits, remember?" The thief would nod, ducking through the crowd as he ran. He reached the other side of the bar, tossing the weapon outside of the window. The glass shattered as he frantically threw it, but he stumbled back with only a slight wound under his chin. He turned on his heels, holding his hands in the air and wishing for a chance to explain.

*hans ran up to him and held his pistol to his chest* you cut yourself didn’t ya??.. *he pointed out the wound on his chin* heh... your as good as a dead man now... and because I feel like being merciful... *he pulled away his gun and holstered it* I’m gonna let the magic do it’s work... *his eyes shifted from their usual deep blue color to a glowing crimson red as he ran outside and grabbed the knife out of a bush*

He’d swallow, cursing underneath his breath. Damn. He apparently hadn’t thrown it far enough. Turning around, he exhaled before coming face-to-face with his own ‘Wanted Dead Or Alive’ posters. He huffed, tearing it down with furrowed brows. He’d past a group of men, slipping in between them and swiping one of their toxic drinks. He’d lift it to his lips, shutting his eyes.

*hans tucked the knife into the inner pocket on the blouse of his uniform as he walked back in and searched for lief* where is he... *he would say under his breath the light hit his cap just right so that it shades to about the top of his nose causing his glowing crimson red eyes to stick out like a sore thumb as he looked through the crowd*

He'd toss the bottle onto the table after he finished it, crumbling the poster into a wad. Tucking it into his pocket, he ran his hand over the wound on his chin, narrowing his eyes slightly as he used the shattered glass to see his reflection.

*hans taps on the shoulder of lief and to ensure he doesn’t try anything he puts the muzzle of his gun to his spine to completely immobilize him should he try anything* care to explain yourself komoraden?? *he said this in a passive aggressive tone clearly wanting revenge but also curious as to why he did what he did*

The thief would stiffen, his expression shadowing. He lowered his hands slowly, tucking them into his pockets. "Explain? Must I, Hans?" Lief turned his head to peer over his shoulder, glaring at the man as he held the pistol close to his back. He would inhale. The weapon didn't frighten him, nor would it ever, though he didn't wish to deal with the insane amounts of pain. The thief would simply shrug, smiling crookedly at the soldier. "The language seemed familiar, y'know? Didn't want any harm with it."
Lief would raise his hand, ruffling Hans's hair as if he were a younger sibling, laughing as he ignored the gun. "No worries, Sir. I won't do it again. Just make sure you don't go around stabbing the innocent."

*hans holsters his weapon* next time perhaps I should shoot you... ((btw he’s wearing his dress cap rn so imma ignore the hair part lol)) but just do not try anything like that again Ja? Perhaps a more stiff beverage is needed hmm? *he reached into his dress blouse pocket and pulled out a bottle of some mix between jäger, vodka, and beer* what do ya think?? Can you handle a shot?