Well, so much for that.  Oh well, what did he expect? She's at least his equal; probably his better, in terms of sheer power. So that meant he was going to have to scrape by on luck and intellect.  The crossbow was almost casually set down on the ground, and pushed away as he chose, this time around, to duck underneath her weapon of choice. While prone on the ground, she might see his hand disappear down towards his ankle for some reason.<br/><br/>As soon as it had passed over him, he practically bounced back up onto his feet, the glint of metal in his hand. "No. Those goody goodies don't know how to actually deal with your kind." He retorted, dryly.  As he finished speaking, with a whoosh, a throwing knife would leave his hand. It glided swiftly through the air, right towards her right shoulder; he was intending to cripple her, to wear her down, rather than outright killing her.<br/><br/>Death, at least to him, was too good for the filthy leeches. No, she, just like many others, would have to suffer.  But that meant beating her into submission first.<br/><br/>A mere moment after the blade had left his hand, he was moving to retrieve the lead pipe. It was the first weapon he had ever used when dealing with a criminal--some mugger whose fingers, hands, and wrists Judge ended up breaking-- and even though he could probably get a substantially better weapon for meleeing with, it was too important to him.