Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.
-Oscar Wilde
The group of city guards were chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Highly unusual, and decidedly unprofessional. Captain Reuss however waited a moment before reimposing order. The men's excitement was completely understandable. After all the time spent chasing pickpockets or being sent on raids by the slightly unhinged Lex, to be given a proper mission must have seemed to the men a godsend and welcome respite.
'Alright boys get it together,' Reuss finally broke in. The guards before him immediately organized themselves, all ten of them in a stiff line facing their Captain. 'As you all know we got some Conjurors in there who've been giving people walking round the island some trouble.' He said, gesturing towards the rickety wooden portal that was the cave entrance. His pale silver armour glittered as he moved in it, and the gold and bronze bands flashed.
'They'll have some Daedra in there, no doubt, and standard procedure for all of them. You never go after Xivilai or Storm Atronachs without archers, and don't bother with arrows when you see a Daedroth, just get your sword out! Alright, we'll charge down there in a column of two. Archers get ready!'
The men organised themselves accordingly, the two in the front especially positively emanating adrenaline. 'Charge!' Captain Reuss roared. The door was kicked down, and the column rushed into the clammy tunnel before them.
****
A six foot, pale gold bipedal alligator bore down on the Legionnaire, who raised his shield against the blow only to be knocked down on his back. Normally a fall meant death, but a comrade with a silver claymore intervened, plunging his weapon into the base of the monster's tail. Thus immobolized, the Daedroth turned and let loose a bout of fire from its mouth, knocking the second Legionnaire down. The first however found his longsword in time to stab the Daedra in the heart, and its wilting roar preceded its fall to the ground.
Across the large chamber an archer was riddling an inky blue Xivilai armed with an ebony hammer and fighting another Legionnaire.
Meanwhile a woman in azure robe and hood was standing in the shadows, muttering an incantation and building up an ominous bluish light between her hands.
Icthyus was back to back with his Captain. Each was facing a Dremora warrior in crimson armor and wielding a mace and shield. The mages who had conjured them were hanging back and watching, their pool of magicka recovering. Reuss was sweating. His men were good fighters, but this was going to be a fight. The two Dremora charged, and the two men parried.
Reuss followed up with a downward strike on the Daedra, who raised his shield to block it. Icthyus followed up with a stab to the Daedra's stomach, or at least where a stomach would have been had the opponent been human. He wasn't so sure about Daedra. The armor on his opponent was very strong, but he did get his sword a quarter of the way, doing enough damage to stagger the Dremora, who clutched his wound. Icthyus took advantage of this and wide a single fluid movement slit the Dremora's throat. There was only time enough for a single spray of dark red blood to escape before the Daedra in its entirety evanesced into thick red smoke. His superior similarly found an opportunity to ram his silver longsword into his opponent's throat.
The two Conjurors glanced at each other. One turned to flee while the other cast a frost spell. An orb of dim blue light shot past Reuss' head, the sound of ice crackling filling his ear as it passed. Without thought he charged the responsible mage, who launched a fireball the Legionnaire blocked with his shield. Up close Ruess wordlessly sunk his blade deep into the comparatively soft body of the Conjuror, who shrieked as he fell.
****
The man in blue robes turned to let off a wide frost spell. Icthyus braced himself in the split second before it hit him and brought him to his knees. His hand was too numb to keep hold of the sword, and it clattered away. Smiling, the mage sauntered up to the fallen Imperial. A weak fireball to the chest knocked Icthyus onto his back, and he lay groaning on the rocky slope. He waited until the mage was right on top of him, bending down to take a look. Icthyus' left hand slithered towards his belt and found a small steel dagger.
'Now you die, guard dog. Did you think we'd let you lot-' he ceased to speak when the dagger flashed across his exposed neck. Blood quickly stained the sky coloured robes and fell onto the laid out Imperial. Icthyus turned his head, trying to avoid getting much on his face. Instead it dripped down the side of his neck and into his armor, until the Conjuror fell backwards and expired.
Icthyus sighed deeply before getting up, no mean feat when you were in full heavy armor.
Seeing that the tunnel he was in lead to a small and empty-looking chamber, he decided to explore it. That way he had a semi-acceptable reason to take a break from the madness in the upper chambers. Anything was better than a return to the melee upstairs. And so abandoning his comrades to whatever the Conjuros had in store next, Icthyus descended further.