There's nothing wrong with being prepared for whatever comes your way, and in this unknown environment it could be hostile. You pop open the hard-sided gun case and take out the smaller Glock that's tucked in the egg-crate foam. It's not loaded, Trevor is an intelligent man and won't travel with loaded guns, so you pop out the clip and start filling it with bullets. The approaching horse and presumed rider comes into view as place the last few bullets in and push the clip in. You hear the scrape of metal as the rider pulls his sword from its scabbard and look up to see him dismount with the blade in hand. The rider, an unknown person draped from head to toe in a gray cloak holds the sword at ready.

"Put it down," he commands, but makes no move to come closer.

"Why should I?" you retort. "I'm not the one who brought a sword to a gun fight."

"I don't want to fight you," the rider replies. "You're very lost, and very confused." You're a bit insulted by the statement, his tone was that of a scared parent talking to a child. You may not know where you are but you're very aware of what your doing. And you have a strong suspicion this man is going to take your only form of defense from you.

"Put it down," the man repeats. He's inching forward now, one small step at time, as if you wouldn't notice. You haven't threatened him with the gun, simply loaded it, but as he comes closer you find the gun raised and pointed in the man's direction. You can see through the gap in his cloak. He dressed in armor, chain-mail mostly, and there are more weapons fastened to his leg and belt. If anyone is a danger it's you from this insane man readied to attend a medieval battle.

"Drop your sword," you yell back. To your surprise he does. "Kick it here." You know he has more weapons on him, and he knows this, but he doesn't know you know and maybe that's why he did as you commanded. You tuck the loaded gun into the back of your waist band, just like a bad-ass hero in an action movie, and resist smiling as you pick up the sword. It's well balanced and you give it a few tests swings. All those weekends you wasted learning sword fighting in middle school are suddenly useful. You hold the blade at ready and the stranger recognizes the educated pose.

"Now you have a sword," the stranger states as he pulls another blade from under his cloak. "But please lower it. I don't want to fight you."

"Yeah, well I didn't get what I wanted today, either," you say as you stand ready. The stranger looks at his sword and to you before he shakes his head and put his sword away.

"May I have my blade back?" he asks and holds out a hand. It's a really nice blade and you take a moment longer than appropriate before tossing it to the ground. After all, you still have a gun whichs far more effective than three feet of sharpened steel. He picks it up and sheathes it wonce again.

"I just wanted to help you," he says as he puts his foot in the stirrup and mounts his horse. "But you're pretty determined to go at this on your own. This place is far more dangerous than it looks. Good luck."

Do you let him leave?



Yeah, I got this. I don't need some cosplaying geek's help.

No, I was being stupid. I apologize and beg him to stay.

Nope, he's not getting away that easily. I shoot him.