Omar was standing in the doorway of his room, wondering how much time and effort it took for these guys to arrange this. At the far wall is his focus of attention; a large weapon rack lined with all manner of fencing swords and weaponry.<br/>"How did they know?" Omar asks himself and notices a framed photograph adorning the top of the rack. It's of him, some forty-odd years ago holding the European Fencing Championship trophy.<br/><br/>Omar is brought from his thoughts by the shriek of the alarm bell. At hearing there was an emergency, He ran into his room to the weapon rack; grabbing a cutlass and a rapier; in his mind the perfect combo. He pulls open his coat, and straps the two swords and cane to his belt. While checking over everything, something catches the corner of his eye. Omar turns to see a Scottish Claymore, roughly six feet long hanging above his bed. With a wicked smile he grabs it, noting it's impressive weight as he ties it to his back. Feeling he has everything he needs, he bolts out his door and joins the others in the elevator...