"It's Greystoke, actually." He stood from the crate he'd been working in, an upside down five clearly legible on the open lid, though the contents would be obscured by said lid from the view of those at the cave's entrance, and closed it carefully before walking around it and toward the group that had assembled to oppose him. "I remember a child dedicated to violence, and I see now that twenty thousand years has done little to change that. One would think that suffering would beget wisdom, but clearly it has had the opposite effect." He stopped then, no more than twenty feet between himself and Adrian, and a wind with the force of a hurricane suddenly blossomed around him and rushed toward the mouth of the cave, where it would strike the assembled trio and in all likelihood hurl them out onto the small plateau outside the cave. The tight confines of the cave itself would render an attempt to avoid the wind fruitless, though it was possible that one or more of their number would have the means to resist it. If so, it would be those individuals he would engage first. 

The wind, while powerful, would be exceedingly brief, due to the limited amount of air the cave could contain, and it would be followed immediately by a backdraft of air rushing in to replace that which had just vacated. Those thrown clear of the cave would be unaffected by this backdraft, but anyone able to resist the initial wind would likely find their efforts turned against them when struck by its equal and opposite reaction.

In the event that all three of his assailants were thrown free of the cave, he would continue to the entrance and halt just outside, waiting and watching as they recovered.