The kid came in, carry a good load of stuff. He set it out on a table. Wasn't the full arsenal, he had decided not to bring anything he thought would be too heavy for someone in training. He had his hammer on his back though, but that was more for him. Not like the alloy needed to make that kind of hammer existed anymore. He had his scarf up and armor on. Looked like a heavy plate of steel just hanging over his front. He gestured for the girl to come over to him as he arranged things.

He had brought a few training Machete's, blunted, as well as a few sharp ones, shining with that special oil that made them so dangerous. A set of pistols. A trainer pair, not designed for the same kind of size the kid packed, but they'd help her get a hold of the basics. A set of training armor, mostly so she could try that out. A spare Brusher's Pike was lying at the head, not sure if she wanted to try her hand at that. Finally a Scrap Musket loaded up with, I think is called beanbag shot. Hurts like a Pecker hitting your noggin, but won't kill ya.

"I am the Kid, at least that is what they call me."

He offered a hand over to her.