Despite the fact that he appeared to be sleeping, danyael was well aware of his surroundings. And the miniature version of him was not helping his mood any. The sheer temptation to thwap the miniature clone was very high. And even greater was the sensation to shove a finely tuned boot up Alex Eldwar's rectum.

The noise level grew even more as the thunderhawk roared over, in addition to the stomping marines that were rushing out. And the enchanting voice of the sand being was no more relaxting than a drunkards fart.

"This grows tiresome..." the scuffle between Alex, Soul, kaworu and Cameron seemed to get to Danyael the most. As the miniature clone taunted and then absorbed back into Kelvack, Danyael shot a finely thin bolt of energy right next to Kelvack's foot; apparently the location where the clone had gone into the shapeshifter.

While Alex's back is turned, Danyael vanishes in a rush of blackness, only to reappear towering over the little the cocky swordsman. His jacket and cloak were back on and his arms were crossed. His face was as emotionless as ever. He did not say anything, nor did he feel the need to speak. His expressions spoke for him. There was enough fighting and if the little one wanted a fight, Danyael would give it to him with extreme prejudice.

He'd heard of this Alex Eldwar from the chronicles of the Order's texts that pretained to the battles in the Umbra. And from a personall opinion of the skillful swordsman, he thought of him as nothing more than an upstart midget.

With nothing wanted or needed to say, He stood stoic and silent over Alex. However, he paid no mind to Mystara for the moment, whom already seems to be on the offensive. if she wanted a fight, then Danyael would happily bitchslap her around the battlefield if the need called for it. The hedges did need a bit of trimming anyway.

OOC


Amongst the chaos, a rippling effect occurs. A whirlwind picks up in spoeed next to Fei and the Sand figure and a figure covered in darkness rises from the depths of the tornado. His flapping, long obsidian cape moves gently in synchronization with the stirring winds. "Must companions always fight amongst one another?" the figure said as it walked forth.

The darkness around the figure fizzled away, revealing Rhiyou's impressively definaed, slender frame. The lord of house Kartzeh, dual katanas gleaming in their scabbards, scanned the area accordingly, taking note to everyone around him. A swift, polite nod in Soul's direction was given first, followed by another polite, upward nod to Cameron. And finally, he bowed to Danyael, recieving an equal bow of respect from the Nephilim lord.

He noticed Fei laying on the ground and simply shook his head in shame. "This is what happens when you get wreckless." he said as he examined Fei's sleeping form. He moved past the sand figure with a polite "Excuse me." and position himself on one knee, taking a close look at the sidhe's body. "So are we moving him or not?" he asked with curiosity, knowing full well that they had been standing there for a long time.

Then, speaking in a very low tone, only for Cameron to hear, Kartzeh relayed an important message to the grey knight marine. "Sir Cameron... This may not be the most oppertune time to speak of such matters. But Arhra is close. I'll do what i can to keep his mischief far from this......caravan."


Danyael, not really replying too much to Kartzeh's presence, remained over Alex, ready to take the swordsman down incase he wanted to be naughty. Kartzeh, alreayd well aware of the issue, stood and crossed his arms in contemplation. "It's wise not to start fights you have no chance of winning, young one. Even for one as skilled as you."

He didn't care much what Alex's reply would be. But he would act accordingly should Mr. Eldwar presume to be a potential hostile. However, Mystara's presence did not go unnoticed as Kartzeh bowed in respect to her. "My apologies for being indelicate, milady. There's been too much chaos between this....fellowship..."

Danyael, his patience, already running thin, remained silent, ready to break into anyone whom would desire to oppose him.