The man shifted his head slightly, glancing up at the sun's rays filtering through the canopy.
"Huh, so it is." He said to the one who had spoken. "Now, what the fuck was that thing that jumped me? And while we're on it, what are you folks doing out here in the woods? Not exactly the safest place to be, is it?" As he spoke, he heard another one approaching and reacted with inhuman speed, seizing the weapon at his hip and drawing it to parry the swordblow. It was a bizarre tool, with a basket hilt studded with small nubs, and a six inch spike for a pommel. The shaft was most unusual, the first six inches being cylindrical and solid before tapering into a sharp blade. At the tip, it widened again, and ended in a wicked piercing hook. The weapon was 2 feet long and appeared to be a hybrid of a crowbar, a Scottish broadsword and a Shaolin tiger hook. A moment after he parried the blow, the man slammed the blunt back of the hook into his assailant's sternum, then levelled the P90 at his face in his left hand, holding it like a pistol.
"Shouldn't have done that, clown."
