The undead's brow arched, though he made no other moves... Yet... First encounters were often the most dangerous. And of all his years hunting people, stalking mage and knight alike, he had never seen a spell like that... Either he was delivered by someone else, or a most abnormal spell slinger. Leather armor, two blades, and a gun. The coat was enchanted heavily, to boot. Draconic runes were amoung the strongest for such ordeals. By nothing but touch, he plucked three vials from the assortment... Agility artificial, flesh like solid stone, and the third... he did not load into the injector imediately. Silently jamming it into his side, he felt the fluids slam into his undead system, coursing through his veins with alchemic results...<br/><br/>Poison... He would need to choose poison next. Presumably, the man could find in the heat of melee, if those sabers spoke true. Crippling, and deadly would be his verdict... Though a small, spare dagger from the salvo of throwing tools was plucked, and laced with mind numbing, just in case... This he placed in the sheath that normally holstered his cursed wakazashi.(Dagger sized katana blade) The blessed rapier resting on the roof to his left, he silently collected, and stowed away his arenal of 'toys'... Never did his eyes leave the young man... Always working by touch and memory... For now, he waited... The boy couldn't pull down the Horde flag one handedly, or so logic would make him assume. That, would be the perfect time to strike...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>