Sabine's frost barrier was at least successful in its immediate purpose of slowing the enemies down, even if the frost atronach was near. However, Sabine's panicking mind was too occupied trying to come up with a way of dealing with Do'Rhajul. She needed to do something that wasn't a spell directed at him and wasn't physically fighting him. She couldn't come up with anything. The stuck anxiety ruminated in her head. She couldn't come up with anything.

The frost atronach was threatening enough to deal with in the time Do'Rhajul would take to get around the frost, at least. Sabine could be direct with that. She pushed magical energies together in a bright orange ball between her palms and projected it toward the enemy daedra's leg. The spell caught fire in the air. It hissed in an explosion of steam and boiling water on impact, hopefully hurting the atronach enough to keep it away.

The hiss of the water sounded like leaves. Sabine's thought went to trees as an angle to deal with Do'Rhajul. She just needed to work out how.

Yerig's speed was uncanny. Janius could have been fooled into thinking that his old sword was but hollow wood if the clang against his shield wasn't decidedly metallic in sound and weight. There was no flair or extravagance in Yerig's style, either. He was precise. He didn't waste any measure. Janius was near his limits just trying to keep up tempo.

"We don't want more lycans in Tamriel!" Janius just managed to say while warding off Yerig. "It puts everyone we know and love at risk!"

At first, Janius tried a half-hearted feint to Yerig's side. Even that was wishful thinking. He reacted just as fast as he had been attacking. Janius opted to keep a weapon strike for later, instead bringing a fireball to his hand and tossing it point-blank at Yerig's feet. Its force was greater than Sabine's spell against the atronach, but its heat less intense. He wanted to put Yerig off-balance.

Perhaps it was the relative power of the spells Meesei and Sabine used to train Fendros' ward. Perhaps it was just this moment where he recognised his advantages now put together. Fendros could not have been more surprised. Not only did his ward hold, but the frost coming into it felt like it was doing more to keep his ward up than it was draining him. He took a step, then another. He walked, closing the distance to the mage.

It was absurdly easy. Fendros' open mouth curled into a dumbfounded smile. He shouldered his bow, dropped his arrow, and pulled out his sword with his left hand. The mage was closer now. Fendros almost laughed. Without a greater challenge against his ward, he picked up speed to cut the mage across his arms in two swings.