Howling winds echoed through the crevasse of earth dividing two opposing forces, one aligned to the nurturing light, the other an agent of darkness. What was apt to come next, the kind of conflict romanticized endlessly through script and lore.

Daos meditated for a moment, enough to gather his bearings. His aura attuned to the atmosphere, and like an extension of his skin, he felt the world around him for traps or oddities, spirits or auras estranged. Quickly, he divined a presence facing him at twelve o'clock, it harbored the dark aura that would chill and erect his neck hairs, if he had any. A shadow approached fearlessly. Common sense convinced the priest that his true enemy neared, no mere civilian would approach a tornado without some kind of rhyme or reason, a death wish perhaps. His storm censored out much of this shady woman's conversation with the other scientists, however the mere act of a mystified and eerie aura drawing closer and closer warranted some kind of defense measure. Daos had many years to his name, and still many life goals to ascertain.

As the barrel hole of 'Lil' Timmy' crossed its airs on Daos, he'd jolt his shoulder enough to throw the staff of Ngma forwards on to the cliff before him which barely held his weight. A tight adamant grip on the golden rod kept it from crashing down and revealing too much power, otherwise the ground beneath him would shatter, as would the boulder. Once blocked by a wall of earth, the priest would be more comfortable in hearing out his opponent's speech. Basic shells and magical ones alike would have a tough time piercing through stone of this thickness, but if he was so unlucky, he'd learn from the first mistake... hopefully.

The bridge swung violently as it was battered about by fierce winds. If the approaching woman dared to close such a gap, she'd find bungee jumping off the cliff an easier feat to accomplish. Her words grew louder, as she meant to collect the priest's attention, yelling over the whistle of whirling winds might take a chore out of her lungs. Daos did hear her, but her words struck a chord, and as they vibrated his eardrums ever so lightly he scoffed as if enduring a screech.

"You defile the sacred, and lay claim to treasures belonging to the honored dead! Take your corrupt and hypocritical ways, and leave this place! Go now! The afterlife won't be so kind to you, for what karma you've lost today! Flee, and enjoy what years remain of your precious life, for if you stay, in the name of the gods, I will be forced to rid you of that privilege!" Daos preached these words loudly, as if the air in his lungs was a magic he could manipulate with ease. No mention of a name whatsoever, for the priest knowingly avoided providing curse wielders with the material they needed to craft their dark arts. Not even a hair to pluck for the voodoo doll. Business was a charade he often avoided as well, for it was an unnatural concept devised outside of nature's plan; although he believed some material wealth might be converted in to his next life, trading to the benefit of evils compromised spiritual worth. His pious nature would surely create an impasse for anyone who relied on speechcraft to get what they wanted.

"Begone!!!" Daos yelled. These were the last audible words invoked before the howling winds muffled sound and sight alike.

What was once a bridge, it would be splintered and ripped asunder by the ever growing gale. Daos meant to put motion to his words, and resorted to forced results. Another unnatural phenomenon was the transformation of a tornado in to a hurricane. For Daos, it wasn't all too paradoxical, the butterfly effect saw fit to create a conversion over spanning time; it wouldn't be instantaneous for him, either, but faster than anything mother nature intended. Before long, the vortex would've consumed the bridge, and with it many hundreds of pebbles, a flurry of gravel and wood chips made such a 'warning' quite dangerous. Daos assumed the woman was capable of surviving, but cared not if she didn't, for he was absolved of guilt, killing a heathen in the name of piety and justice.