There wasn't much Mozenrath could do. At least, not that came to mind. Without his gauntlet, he wasn't much of a fighter, preferring not to engage in fist-a-cuffs without provocation. So far, Aladdin was the only one, short of self preservation, that could will the sorcerer into any sort of physical conflict.

"What is your name, then?" He asked glumly, putting his head in his hand and really looking at Knives for the first time since joining him. He was making small talk just for the sake of doing it, as the altertive would be to dwell on his 'defeat' at the hands of the staff. Knives would appreciate the question in the future; it was only a matter of time before the sorcerer began to complain.