Gus, Guns and Glory:
Inside the weaponry outlet, an old man presumably named Gus sits on a tall barstool behind a glass display counter full of revolvers and large knives. The wall behind him is covered in tall racks alternating between swords, rifles, and muskets of all sorts. Dust hangs heavily in the air, and the shop feels gloomy with afternoon light softly filtering through the shuttered windows.
The old man is rail thin, with a whispy crown of white hair edging his massive bald spot. He wears a patched old cavalryman's jacket. A huge knife in one hand, and a piece of bleached bone in the other. He seems busy/not busy lazily carving an intricate scene of battle on to the bone, and it seems that the shop's specialty is weapons with these same intricate ivory carvings integrated in to them. One bloodshot eye looks up at Ace and his friends as they come in, as he only has the one.
"We got steel, steel and steel. Some got gold or silver on 'em fer fancy gennelmen. Don't got none o' ya fancy-dick space metals. Don't got frontier trash-iron neither. Price depends on what sorta blade yer after."
The shop seems to carry a wide variety of blades. The most popular seem to be large bowie knives under the glass counter, or cavalry sabers which are hung on the back wall. A few dueling rapiers are around, they seem to have intricate ivory inlays and gold filigree decorating them, probably once popular with the Osman nobility.
Quality of blade seems to go from battered things which are just haphazardly piled about, to utilitarian polished steel, all the way up to finely balanced weapons designed as much for show as for their ability to kill a person.
Scrabler, being not the nicest soul indicates to Ace that it's entirely possible that you can kill this man and take whatever you want free of charge.