Venomshank was hanging around the Crossroads as usual, sitting on a bench near the training grounds and watching the Phighters go about their usual routines. He had his eyes on one particular Phighter though, his adopted son, Sword. Venomshank liked watching Sword practice, as it reminded him of when Sword used to play fight as a kid. And now here he was, waving his weapon around like it was nothing. To say Venomshank was proud would be an understatement.