((ooc: yeah...where is everybody? Maybe we should start issuing bribes...))

Still treading behind everyone, Danyael peers back at the footprints everyone is leaving behind. With a small grunt, he flips his hood over his head and looks forward.

"Getting sloppy...", he sneers from his lips as his msucles tensen. At the tightening of his muscles, the ground behind him begins to vibrate where everyone's footprints were. It was obvious that Danyael was behind everyone for a reason. A reason that was about to be made evident momentarily.

As he continued to walk on, the virbating grounds began to twist and wrap around in the blowing winds. The movement of the ground and the movement of Danyael's red cloak were in perfect synchronization with each other, as if the garment was giving off the commands like a puppeteer. From the mixture of the winds, along with Danyael's ominous ability, the many tracks in the sand begin to vanish away, as if they were never there.

With a smirk of satisfaction, he continued to walk onward, the mysterious winds behind him, covering the tracks of he and his comapnions.

But only seconds later a flash of white light erupted in Danyael's eyes, forcing him to shield himself. As he puts his arms down, he can see that everything stands still. His companions, the moving sands, the blowing winds, and even the heated clouds of the planet. All time seemed to have halted itself.

The only single element in motion, were the shadows of his fellow warriors. The shadows first moved like flowing water in a delicate, graceful motion. But soon, the liquid motion of the shadows became a violent ripple as the shadows erupted from the ground, collecting into a single point infront of Danyael.

As the shadows begin to collect, Danyael can hear the whispering of incantations of a language only he could decifer.

"Muu handran shijun drontensh!"
<<Desperate little slave of justice!>>

"What do you want?"

"What do I always want?"

"I'm not going to answer that..."

"Ooooh! You're so sexy when you get irritated! You get this cute little vein that pops out of your forehead!"

The remarks of the voice only anger Danyael further, resulting in him using his voice in a different, more amplified tone.

"I said...what do you want, Duriel? I'll not ask you again.."

As the shadows complete their collection, A dark, murky figure spews upward from the pool of shadows. The figure stands tall with its wings spanning across miles. The darkness dripps away from the figure into the ground, revealing Duriel's sleek, seductive form. He crosses his arms and looks at Danyael through his cicular, blue shaded glasses.

"What? I can't check up on my favorite boy toy?"

Danyael does nto respond in words. Instead he lets out a small exhale of compressed air and launches a spray of white fire from his fingertips at Duriel. The Dark Lord easily dodges the attack in a blur of speed, reappearing infront of Danyael, caressing the nephilim's face.

Danyael, disgusted with this, grabs Duriel's hand and pushes it away from his face.


"Don't do that again, Duriel...", he snarls at Duriel. Yet the Dark Lord was nto intimidated by this and lifts Danyael up with a small expelsion of psionic power. The white energy of Duriel's power dances around Danyael as the Nephilim is lifted into the air. Duriel hovers adjacent to Danyael as he looks him in the eyes.

"I see you have spoken with the Umbra's Queen, eh? I'm assuming all went well with her?"

Danyael chose not to reply to Duriel's address. Instead, he turns his head away from him with a small grunt of displeasure.

Duriel chuckles and slowly lands back to the ground. With a wave of Duriel's wrist, the psionic energies slowly set Danyael back down. The dark Lord smiles at Danyael and blows him a taunting kiss. In a flash of light, all time returns to normal. Duriel had apparently vanished.

Danyael lets out a small feral growl and continues walking on, the footprints of everyone vanishing away to prevent anyone from following.

((ooc: Natalya, check your inbox. I replied to your request. ))