As the group traveled through the tall, sinister tower, Aveca clutched her bow tight, an arrow ready to be drawn back. The realm had her on her toes, and she assumed most of the group felt similarly. It was impossible to be at ease with the scent of burning flesh and blood surrounding you, and with charred corpses and fountains of blood marking the halls they traveled. 

	[i]"Huh. I wonder who actually does the guard patrols for Dremora. Do you think there's a roster? Night shifts? Lunch breaks? Do Daedra even have lunch?"[/i] Aveca heard the other mage ahead of her speaking as if to herself. She found the idea nearly comical, and tried to imagine the situation. A group of Daedra guards sitting around a lunch table, mugs of ale, playing dice on their break. She tried to imagine it like a group of guards back home might talk. One of them talks about his new daughter. Her eyebrows drew together as she dispelled the image. It was impossible; they weren't like people back home. They weren't [i]people[/i]. The idea proposed that they were some type of hivemind seemed most plausible to her, though she was no scholar in this department. 

	 When they were finally halted in their upwards journey by a locked door, the only option was to cross a narrow, very high up "bridge," which she hesitated to call such because she didn't want to insult good bridges. She edged to the front of the group to peer over the edge and felt her stomach churn. 
	
	Two warriors easily volunteered to cross. Aveca pondered for a moment if they would need a healer, but she recalled Valentis using some Restoration magic, so she allowed herself to step back from the door with relief. She would be better served here is a wave of Daera came upon them, and perhaps others would be better suited to crossing such a bridge. 

	"I'll stay here in case someone is injured in the fighting," Aveca said aloud, despite thinking [i]I'm not the best with heights.[/i] She felt a bit embarrassed, but she turned to one of the benches and examined it. It was dark in colour and not something she found herself wanting to sit on, but her legs were tiring from the journey and fighting. She touche it with one hand and it almost felt greasy, but she sighed and sat down on it anyway.