Our samurai guide turned left down a ... well, if this was a church, I'd call it a cloister—a corridor open on one side, looking out over the atrium. (Weird mixture of styles and symbols in this house. But somehow they seemed to mesh and the amalgam worked.) Two more side-boys materialized out of nowhere flanking me and Scott a couple of paces back. Again, no weapons were visible; but, again, the way they carried themselves convinced me they wouldn't need weapons to take down anything less than a fragging dzoo-noo-qua.