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Naomi, with some reflex learned from Oghma Infinium, managed to deflect the fireball away with a backhanded swat from her shield and a quick sidestep. She was surprised at herself; and stared at her pen arm for a second before snapping out of it and responding to her friend.

"I dunno!" she said. "It's like a scantily clad campfire!"

Dayton gave Roman a quick nod. "Yes. Wabbajack."

Roman shot a blast of the wabbajack at the creature. Wabbajack, Wabbajack, Wabbajack.

The creature immediately transformed into a rat and began to scurry away from Roman and Dayton.

Emily frowned nervously. If only she had learned better how to deal with these strange magical creatures or some skill that would be of more use than a silly sword! But it was all she had, so the girl raced forward and swung her sword viciously, hoping it would be useful in some way toward this thing's defeat.

Naomi charged after her friend, hoping Aaron's armour was relatively burn-proof.

Naomi & Emily
Emily's sword struck true to the atronach's side, sending embers and sparks flying from the creature, who screamed with a voice like shattering glass as her side was torn open.

Naomi was able to lop off the atronach's left arm, which fell to the ground in a pile of ash.

It shrieked again and tried to throw another fireball at the girls.

The Xivilai's blade came down again and again, the inhuman strength behind each hit breaking Martin's armour each time and scraping his skin. He'd dropped his shield when he fell, unable to keep hold of both it and his sword. Now he lay on the ground fighting for breath, trying to work out what to do. He wasn't used to fighting entirely without magic, but he didn't dare use any. 'Xivilai have stunted magicka, and casting spells on them will only give them the magicka they need to hit you,' his brain reminded him, bitterly. Not that he was ever likely to forget.

"You're ssstuck, little Ssseptim," hissed the Xivilai in delight. It hit him again, the blow cutting straight through his armour and into his stomach. His cuirass instantly healed itself again, the magic bees moving straight back into formation; but his belly didn't. Deep enough to wound, he felt hot blood welling into the soft padding under his armour. The Xivilai's mocking turned to crowing. "I ssspilled Ssseptim blood!"

Martin hurt. He wanted to heal his injury but was terrified of using magic, even Restoration magic on himself. And he was lying on something lumpy... really lumpy. What was it? He slid his left hand under his back and touched the petals of the Sanguine Rose, which he'd picked up in irony.

"Sanguine?" he muttered. "Am I still your favourite follower?"

Naomi ducked back behind her shield, judging it better to take a mild hit than be caught full-on trying to avert it.

The answer came immediately, a laughing voice in his mind. “Ah. The prodigal son returns. And now he knows whose son he truly is, eh? Not that he ever believed it when his Uncle Sanguine told him...”

The Blades, and others who had only met Martin in the last few months might have been surprised by his answer. “Cut the crap, Sanguine. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Surely that depends on what sort of help the little Septim needs?” Sanguine laughed again, before pausing time and appearing midair next to Martin. He was floating cross-legged, and seemed entirely at ease.

Martin swallowed. “I think I might be in trouble here. If I die now, that's it. Mehrunes Dagon gets to remake the world in his image. How do the other Daedric Princes feel about that? Do you want his version of Oblivion in Mundus?”

Sanguine smiled. “Ah. Now we're bargaining. I like it!” He spun in the air, rearranging himself upside-down with his head close to Martin's. The rest of the battlefield remained frozen behind him.

“In truth,” he said, as if confiding, “I'm sure my brothers Molag Bal and Boethiah will be delighted. Thousands more mortals to torture! Millions, even. But you're right, of course, my dear Martin. Most of us prefer our own planes of Oblivion to those of Dagon. What do you suggest?”

“Help me. Help me get rid of these daedra. I need to get to the Temple of the One. It's too late to light the Dragonfires, but there must be some way to send Dagon back...”

“And what will you give me in return? Your soul?”

Martin went very white, his face losing all its animation. Finally, very carefully, sounding a long way away, he whispered, “You know that my soul belongs to Akatosh now.” He swore inside his head, screaming.

Roman shot a fireball at the rat.

Naomi
The fireball collided with Naomi's shield, pushing her back a few inches but otherwise doing no harm. The scantily clad campfire was left open by the fact it overextended itself throwing the fireball. Its open side was now facing the two girls.

Roman
The rat dodged and ran at Roman, teeth bared.

Naomi exploited the weakness, repeatedly hacking overhand with rather silly sounding "Hah! Hah! Hah!"

Dayton swung the legendary blade of Umbra to put an end to the rodent's reign of terror once and for all.

Emily was totally RPed out had tumbled out of the way of the strange flame creature and now, getting back to her feet, turned about to see Naomi attack. "Go!" she whispered eagerly, hopeful her friend would triumph. She started forward to rejoin her, scanning about to observe the others briefly in the field of battle.

Pete

The blast from the Skull of Corruption cloned the Clannfear. The copy immediately began fighting the original, horns and beak stabbing and biting.

Anya took the opportunity afforded her and ran around to the side of the original beast and thrust her sword into its thick hide, piercing its heart. Blood sprayed from the wound when the sword was removed, half drenching the Blade.

The clannfear dropped to its side, dead. The copy, however, charged Anya, whose eyes were closed due to the spraying blood.

b]Naomi[/b]
Naomi's katana hacked and slashed into the flame atronach, tearing pieces of its body away as she yelled. The final slice cut the monster in half. It shrieked as its upper body fell to the ground and turned to ash. Its legs and torso exploded, showering Naomi and Emily in sparks.

Dayton
The rat was halved, a pink energy escaping from it as it died. The energy was immediately absorbed by the sword, which pulsed in Dayton's hands.

Sanguine was entirely unfazed. He twirled in mid-air, righting himself again. “Ah well. Can't blame a Prince for trying, eh? Especially when the prize is an Emperor.”

“What do you want?” Martin spoke as clearly as he could.

“A kiss.”

“A kiss?”

“Yes. Just a kiss, from my favourite ex-follower. I've missed you, you know.”

Martin sighed, and reached up towards the Daedric Prince with his right hand and its sword. Sanguine dropped onto him painfully, knocking the breath from his lungs, though avoiding the injury to his belly. He laughed, and kissed Martin long and hard, pulling his head closer, biting his lips, and doing something with his tongue which wouldn't be possible for humans. Then he blinked out of existence, leaving the Emperor lying on the ground cursing and incredibly turned on.

The Sanguine Rose in his left hand pulsed to life, and summoned a Xivilai of its own. Then another... and another... “Kill only the other daedra,” Martin heard himself say. “Leave the mortals alone.”

Time began again. Martin wriggled away from the attacking Xivilai's blade as his own Xivilai started to fight it. He stood, clutching his stomach, passing a healing spell into it and thinking, 'That was close'. He glanced around to see how everyone else was doing. Could he finally make a dash for the Temple of the One?

"Good job." said Roman to Dayton. Wabbajack, wabbajack, wabbajack.

Naomi leaned on her sword, panting heavily, staring at the campfire she had slaughtered.

Mindless beasts don't wear swimsuits. She realized, her stomach lurching.

She wanted to throw up. Killing those scamps, the icky, naked goblin thingies, had been one thing. But now she had taken the life away from something smart enough to be modest and still try to look sexy. She wondered whether it was born, or how it came into the world, why it was fighting them.

No, that's stupid, the part of her mind rather forcefully reconditioned by Hermaeus Mora to be a warrior. Leave the fire lady alone and help your friends.

Naomi snapped out of her reverie, with as bit of a blush visible beneath her helmet. She looked around to take stock of her surroundings.

Emily rejoined Naomi's side, looking down at the newly-turned-to-pile-of-ashes that had been their attacker. She had been spared most damage from Aaron's strange armor, but her cheek was warm and full of soot. She wished she had learned something more useful from Sebastien about magic. She sniffed, observing her friend wordlessly as she, too, looked around at the others.

Then Emily straightened somewhat, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand and making it even dirtier. Her heart was beating strong and her legs were tense; she was ready to bolt forward, not stay behind. "You okay?" she asked finally, in the small moment of peace in the battle they had.

Naomi nodded. "Yeah." she said quietly. "I'm not sure I like killing things, but..." She shrugged.

As Naomi, Emily and Martin looked around they could see Dayton and Roman, celebrating their defeat of a rat.

Nearby Tyson and Saren hadn't even laid a blade on the storm atronach, too scared to move, it seemed.

Anya had just killed the clannfear and was being charged by the clone.

Two of Martin's summoned Xivilai made short work of the one who had injured the Emperor then returned to his sides, awaiting their next order.

Naomi decided that the floaty-rock thing probably needed to be killed by some kind of magic, and she would probably just dull her sword fighting it, so she ran to assist Anya with the clannfear clone.