As the daedra poured into the room, snarling and scraping as they went, Adamiir had what he believed to be a stroke of genius. It really wasn’t every day that such good fortune was made so readily available. Indeed, to be quite accurate, this kind of fortune was likely centuries old, if ever it existed at all. Looking at nobody in particular, a wide smile began to slowly creep its way onto Adamiir’s face. Quite an unsightly thing indeed. Fixing his gaze on the largest churl in the room, a hulking, cruel looking behemoth, Adamiir took a single step forward. The churl took a step back. The manic smile only widened as the breton took another step forward, before strolling towards the dremora at a leisurely pace. The churl found itself momentarily glued to place, as combat erupted around it. When the skinny monster showed no signs of stopping its advance, the churl dropped its weapon in fright and fled out of the room, into the hallway it arrived from.

“My companions,” Adamiir called out as he began to sprint after the churl. “I will return-” And then no longer could the group hear him, his voice growing fainter as he sped away from the melee. Veeza spared no glance for the eccentric breton, though part of him was starting to regret having saved the spellcaster. Mad or cowardly, his absence in the current fight was all the same. Veeza shook his head, snorting, choosing instead to turn his attention to the problems he could still do something about. Namely, the scamp that had gotten between him and the demonic mage he’d been initially targeting. Already he was feeling the costs of this exchange, the scamps claws unfortunately proficient at finding the little gaps between the pieces of his armor. Snorting again, forked tongue slipping from his mouth to lick the blood from a split on his lip, Veeza and the scamp clashed together once more. 

Seizing the scamp’s neck with both hands, Veeza lifted the creature off the ground, and began to squeeze. A hellish shriek ripped from the scamp’s throat as it began to thrash about, to no significant effect. Then, there was a loud crack, and Veeza dropped the corpse to the ground, breathing heavily. 

Adamiir looked down at the naked dremora before him thoughtfully. Getting the big red corpse out of its armor had been a frustratingly arduous process, but at last it was done. Sparing a glance for the steel knife that had found itself embedded in the back of the churl’s neck at the start of this process, the shiny thing still coated in a thick, blackish red bile, Adamiir knelt down close to the corpse. Positioning the knife over the dremora’s heart, he began to work, humming softly.