Colm hesitated to respond to the young woman that addressed him. He was trying to make arrangements for temporary lodging, and was of a mind to reprimand her for interrupting a conversation between men. Her attention quickly came to focus on a rather green looking young man, though, so, he had a glass of whiskey and let it go.

Seemed to be a rather young crowd, so far. He smiled to himself as he wondered how many of them even knew how to play cards, let alone what to do with a saloon girl.

He muttered to himself, "Ní raibh mé ag iarraidh labhairt leat, ar aon nós."

After he finished settling his bill for the [i]five[/i] shots he had, and opened a tab for his room, he put his belongings into his room, and locked the door. Colm raised his eyebrows, and grinned as he heard what had to be the local clergy outside. "Well, now, that's a man o' the cloth, if e'er oi heard one!" He walked out the door, rifle still slung on his shoulder, "Come on, now, Father! Oi don't think you're bein' entoirly fair! After all, everyone knows The Lord invented whiskey to stop the oirish from conquerin' the world!" He took a step down to stand level with the man, "The way oi see it, than, oim not engagin' in degeneracy, good sir; oim keepin' the peace, an' doin' The Lord's will!" He smiled wide as he held out his hand to shake.

He was intrigued by the talk of devilry, but he was also building a good buzz as the whiskey settled, so he was more inclined to mischief than investigation at the moment.