The uneventful walk through the hellish realm had Aveca on edge. She was shocked to be there, and despite her amazement, she strongly wished for nothing but to get in and get right back out. In the back of her mind, she wondered if it would even be possible to get out, or if closing the gate would close them inside. The thought of being stuck in this realm made her insides turn. She found herself glancing at the mutilated corpses in the area every now and then, and despite being accustomed to seeing gore as a healer, the expressions on those poor souls made her uncomfortable. 
	The silence was so disconcerting that Aveca probably would’ve loosed an arrow at a falling pebble. She kept one knocked but didn’t draw. When the group turned around to find one of their party members in a spike trap, Aveca’s first instinct at seeing someone immobile was to rush forwards and help. She didn’t even take a step before she saw that he was very, very dead.  A few seconds later, an imperial woman surged towards the corpse and shouted a few profanities. 
	[i] “Curse this damned place! I did not wish for this; all I had to do was rescue that stupid priest! You lot can stay here and die for all I care; And the Gods can get fucked. None of this is my fate, and I'm doing as I please from here on out. Going into Oblivion... who's bright idea was that?!" [/i]Aveca thought briefly that no one had even asked her. She had seemed a little reluctant, but the nord had thought that she was just a bit of a reluctant hero. Still, her brimming irritation fizzled out quickly as a Dremora stepped out from behind a rock and slammed into her. He lifted her with his mace and threw her into the molten lava. As her body neared the lava, her body ignited from the head and rested atop the molten rock until she was reduced to ashes. Left with little to think about, Aveca barely noticed the altmer man launch himself at the Daedra who had killed the imperial woman. 
	She quickly turned her attention to another enemy; the arrow she already had knocked on her arrow was quickly drawn back and loosed into the meat of a Dremora churl. It stuck home deep in his side, but the thing barely seemed to notice. It noticed her and charged directly at her. Fear struck her, as she wasn’t accustomed to one on one combat. Her first instinct was to drop her bow and raise her arms to cast a spell. She released a flash bolt directly into the Daedra’s bare face. The offshoot of flames stunned it, but fire probably hadn’t been the best choice for her, she realized. The thing lived in these realms, maybe it could even trudge through lava on its own. She thought that was an exaggeration, though. 
	Quickly, she attempted a new approach. While the Dremora shook the flames from its face, Aveca grabbed the front of the beast’s armor and released Cold Touch into its being. The spell shot into its center and she watched the creature seize up. It went rigid and, as a finishing blow, the Nord grabbed an arrow from her quiver and jabbed it into the churl’s exposed neck. Dark coloured blood gushed out of the wound and onto her pale hand. She wrenched the arrow out and an extra spurt of blood hit her clothing. She was small and was almost pulled to the ground with the body, but she shoved it off herself and stumbled back a step. 
She examined the arrow in her hand, but found that it was unusable. The arrowhead had torn off inside of the neck. She tossed it aside and it tumbled down into the molten lava, combusting into flame before it even touched the liquid. The rush of adrenaline was still coursing through her as the looked over her blood-soaked right hand.