Once again you begin to build a blessing for your followers, once again it isn't as simple as one might hope. The problem comes from the need for it to be simple in the first place so that any follower, no matter where or how strongly they believe, can benefit from it. Where the blessing to remake the Falmer was a multilayered array of divine will and Magick, you must now make something a fraction of the scale. If only that equaled an equally simple creation.
You need to be careful with the magic lest you cause an incident similar to the first attempt at a blessing. You need to be precise so that it does as you wish so no erroneous side effects manifest. You need to be patient, but the process of making the blasted thing is wearing that patience thin.
"My lord, might I suggest you take a break?" Dyus says from the center of the room, seated in a chair while you test various forms of the blessing on him. If he were any other mortal you would suspect he says this for his own benefit after the many failed attempts, but you know he says it for yours. You take in a breath, not for the air as that is no necessity for a god, but in the hopes that the taste and smell of the tree in bloom might clear your head.
"One more. One more then we will put this project on pause." You rumble out, disliking the feeling of defeat that comes with the admission. You look at the blessing, examining its every inch, despite how small it is. Where the blessing of the Falmer had been a three dimensional construct when given form, this instead Is barely a line. So why is it so damned difficu-oh wait.
You feel like slapping your head. If the fool were here you know he'd start laughing. While the blessing of the soul is important, it had become the main focus. You had forgotten to make it work smoothly with the brain itself, causing a discrepancy between the two. You etch new designs into this blessing so that the mind and soul together would be blessed the same way, implant it within the meager shrine you had built to test with, and turn back towards Dyus who is still patiently waiting.
"Attune to the shrine, it should work now." With a nod Dyus turns his attention towards the shrine and gives a short prayer. You hear it, both physically as the man is but a short distance from you, but also within yourself, mingled with all the other prayers. They make up a collective noise in the back of your being, the collected prayers of your worshippers in Windhelm and the Falmer, the individual voices all making a kind of choir of prayer. You make sure that only he shall be affected and let the blessing take hold.
"The immediate effects?" you ask, flipping to a new page within the journal you had made for your creation of the blessing and readying a quill. "My mind is still my own. The senses have become keen but none overwhelm. Begin testing." and with his consent you start subjecting his body to various stimuli, lights and sound meant to overwhelm, sensations of pain and pleasure, smells and tastes divine and disturbed. "Capital of the Kothringi peoples?" the questions are random, meant to make Dyus think quickly. His knowledge may be vast but it would still take him time under normal circumstances to sift through what he knows
"Prior to the third era it was the settlement of marsh-shire, or Verutrum in their language, after the Knahaten flu however what few survivors resettled on the coastal town of Makurest along the southern fringe of black marsh, while others fled west towards sunken Yokuda after being denied port in Hammerfell." The response was quick, roughly five seconds faster than your previous historical question. "In the book Chimarvamidium, what is the name of the blacksmith the chimer plotted to kidnap to learn the secrets of blacksmithery." A more precise question, to see if he could recall so inconsequential a detail. "Jnaggo, though Khajit translations call him Bouri instead as the original name is close to a slur for female elves in their language." Again, a quick response.
The testing goes on for an hour as you continue to ask a series of questions on multiple different topics, but by the end you know you were successful. While the effects for a man like Dyus, one who has shed his mortality and had access to what was once the greatest collection of knowledge in reality, are far more pronounced, anyone who follows you will find themselves availed by this blessing. Many in fact do make quick use of it within your Windhelm cult, sometimes needing to be reminded to rest or eat, but otherwise the blessing is a success.
+5 to cult actions. +5 faith.
---
Given how you still know so little of the recent goings on of oblivion, it would do you well to see what planes lie nearby. Not just small petty realms like you had found with the mercenary fortress, now the common area for the Daedra who guard your realm though begrudgingly at times, but for those greater places home to powerful entities, where one might find all manner of useful information, allies, or artifacts one holds.
Its easy to separate the planes from each other. Each one gives off a kind of light. No, that isn't quite right. Energy is a better fit, a pulsing wave let off by each realm. For the lesser ones its nearly unnoticeable, but for the realm of a prince it is as a lighthouse in the darkness, letting one sail the void in-between the various planes with relative ease. You, however, are looking for those more hidden, those that the owners of which don't want found. So you set off, in search of the unknown.
Its boring. It's very boring. The majority of the planes you come to are barely pocket dimensions, little more than a Telvannis broom closet or a Daedroths overly arrogant claim to a title of lord. You know there has to be more than this out there, but despite your best attempts you've spent long weeks out here for nothing. You turn back towards Mytheria and the shivering isles and begin to mo- wait. Out of the corner of your eye you saw something, a glint. You turn towards it, seeing nothing, feeling nothing. Suspicious you turn towards Mytheria again, and once again you see it. Brass shaped into a cylindrical shoe of some kind, it's difficult to tell from what little you can see.
You start to move towards it, keeping it in the corner of your vision. How they were able to almost completely hide this away from your every sense, it should be impossible, yet there it is. You start feeling for the object, and you almost can't feel it under your touch. You slowly explore it with your hands before your hands find an elevated ring of metal, attached to the rest by two metal struts. You think a moment, and following a hunch you try to twist it, first one way and then the other. There's movement. You continue to turn the valve? Handle? Crank? Until, with a hiss, whatever magic concealed what you now see as a hatch seemingly connected to nothing dispels itself and you can enter.
You had expected Dwemer architecture when you entered, but aside from its advanced mechanical nature and hyper fixation on brass, though it pales in comparison in its use compared to the Dwemer, they are nothing alike. The room you find yourself is a long hall, another vault like door at its end. You begin to make your way there when you hear the door you came through closing. It's slow, so it's not some trap, and it has a similar valve on the inner side to open it again, so you don't worry about it. You do worry about the disembodied voice the reverberates through the air.
"Scanning…Scanning…Non mortal lifeform detected. Nature, et'Ada, subspecies Daedroth. Sending automatons to remove it from the vestibule." The voice is monotone, a slight hint of a chimer accent to its voice. You draw your blade, now accessible to you once again thanks to the return of your artifact, and prepare yourself, but these automatons are slow to appear. After some moments holding a defensive stance you begin to move forward, ready for any response but finding none. And you believe you know the answer for why that is.
The brass is slightly oxidized, and all of it is covered in a slight layer of dust. The place is seemingly abandoned aside from the presence of the voice. With no automatons coming to expel you from wherever this is you reach the other door, and opening it the same way as the other you are surprised by what you see. Obsidian towers stretch towards an artificial sky, advanced machinery over nearly every inch, a false sun bathing the world in a flickering light, and nearly all of it's devastated. Signs of battle can be seen, most of it having left the terrain a fallow battlefield littered with the broken pieces of advanced machines and corpses, artificial lifeforms barely clinging to life amidst the ruins, and at the very center a tall tower, the only thing yet untouched.
"Warning, a Daedroth has breached the city. Avoid section O-9 while automata are sent to rectify this issue." The voice says, its words echoing over the ruins. You notice, off in the distance, a handful of mortals, looking your way through a pair of optics. They're dressed in ragged clothing, bits and pieces of ill fitting armor thrown over top or strapped down with rope or strips of fabric. You ignore them to focus on the tower, the likely source of the voice. From everything you learned of the mortals and their mages, this place seems to be the land of Sotha Sil, the clockwork city.
With Sotha Sils death, the miniature world seems to have all but collapsed, the mortals spying on you survivors of whatever happened. A part of you wishes to travel further in, to explore it and see what it has sealed away by one of the mortal gods, but no. You know this place would be hazardous to search, and shouldn't be taken lightly, especially for how weaker the realm makes you feel. While it may be a realm no longer entirely within Nirn you can feel the protection of the veil cast by Akatosh and the Septim bloodline here. Perhaps you could send one of the elves, or a champion, but you have no place here right now.
You exit the way you came, one of the automatons finally here from the voices commands. A small centaur like thing, one of its arms broken and ending in exposed wire and steel, perhaps its formerly dominant hand given its lacking of a weapon. You ignore its attempts to to cast you out, flailing at you with its stump and good arm, and carve a glyph into the inner and outer parts of the bulkhead that led you inside, a means to track the entrance in case it moves. With that done you head back to Mytheria, mind already filling with possibilities.
You found the clockwork city of Sotha Sil. Lucky bastards.
---
Your knights are perfect soldiers, ones that shall follow any order, any command to the letter and to perfection. But that is all they will do. They have no will, no spark, their souls burned up in their rebirth as knights. You need beings that can adapt and think for themselves, that can be more than just soldiers, that live.
Though many of the Daedra are those from the dawn of reality, those who didn't leave with magnus or become the gods, these souls can be reborn though usually lacking much of what made up their previous lives. For those destroyed they might come back through a cynosure in the void, taking on a form of their liking, but that isn't really an option right now. Sometimes a mortal can be remade as a Daedric entity, and that's somewhat similar to what you did with the knights, but you don't have enough devoted followers for that. Keeping that in mind, you'll need to be clever with what you have at your disposal.
There is no one way to create a Daedra. Meridia wove her Aurorans from the light of her realm, Nocturnals crows were made from mortal crows that she bade into her realm, and the Perthans crawled out from the depths of Mephalas web, but since you've never truly done this before, finding Daedra by their nature difficult to work with, it's a learning process. Some futile first attempts are made, forming them of Magick like you had the blessings, carving them from a piece of crystal, and you had thought you were onto something when you tried to form them from clay but that fell apart quickly, little more than a golem. Then you have an idea. Instead of forming them purely by yourself, you would use something else alive, something already attuned to you and your nature, with souls aplenty within to draw upon.
You leave the fortress and move to the base of the tree of shades, now far healthier and much grown for its time in healthier soils, standing roughly five stories tall. While parts of it are still stained a dark, almost rotten black, and perhaps may remain that way for the rest of its existence, the rest of its bark and wood is slowly turning a pure white. You stand before it, placing you hand upon its bark, and exert your will. Slowly, ever so slowly, you draw out a form from it.
Almost mortal in physique, taller than a man but shorter than a Mer, their skin like marble, not just in color but in all properties aside from its ability to move and flex, interlaced with seams of some kind, forming patterns across its skin in myriad colors, from the light crystalline blues of the trees leaves, to deep golds, to flecks of amethyst-like purple and all manner of other colors. It's eyes are cloudy white, without pupils or any real indication if it can see. You notice that each hand, while otherwise unremarkable, is possessed of six fingers upon each.
It's hair, dull white the same as it's skin, falls heavily on its shoulders. Right above the temples on either side of the head two horns of crystal emerge, pointed at a slight angle upwards and forwards. Once fully out of the tree the being stumbles forward on newly made legs, struggling to stay up before managing to get its bearing and stand, even if the stance is shaky. It looks around, towards you, towards the tree, mouth seeming to open and close at random, almost like it wanted to speak but didn't know the words to say. Clueless as child straight out the womb.
"Daedroth of mine, Tell me, do you remember your name?" it looks towards you as you speak, but if it knows what you said it shows no sign. The tree was meant to hold souls of those who broke your laws for eternity, perhaps all that time has stripped them of memory. It looks around, marveling at all it sees, and begins to set off, though it begins to stumble. You catch it and keep it upright, turning it back towards you. "Do you recall anything, can you speak?" you ask. Again, it mouths at words but none come out.
You send for Xorvanis while you try to corral the Daedra. By the time he's gotten to the fort the creature has managed to learn to stay stable on its feat, incredibly quick progress. "Xorvanis, I need you to look after this creation of mine. See that it is clothed and fed. If it begins to speak or there's some other development send for me." He looks at your creation a moment before turning back to you. "Does it have a name?"
[] Name your creation
It's a short time later that Xorvanis calls for you. already the creature has begun speaking in short sentences, and if this pace of progress continues by weeks end it will be as intelligent as any other Daedra, perhaps more-so, after readjusting to existence. It shows no sign of illness, no obvious faults towards its long term health as a result of its creation. You can deem it a success.
Your Daedra have now been born. More shall be made in time from the souls within the tree of shades.
---
When you had tasked Sheogorath with helping rebuild your library, he hadn't been excited by the idea. He said how only three of his thirteen minds had any scholarly training and even then, they were not scribes. Still, you had little time to work on the project yourself so you tasked them with it anyway. They may at least gather the books and materials you need if they cannot calculate fate.
When you come to see their progress after some time they are huddled over in a room of their palace, paper scattered over the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. They are feverishly scribbling, and peeking over their shoulder reveals their words to be nonsense, written in a script you cannot place, the very letters seeming to shift in place when not focused on. You grab them by the shoulder and start to pull them away from their scrawling. "You're done." it takes a minute after you pull them out of the room before they calm down, focus returning to their eyes after a period of blinking, spots like ink leaving their pupils. "I'm done? Oh. That's good. Right?" you just give them a nod before dropping them on their feet in front of Haskill. You return to the room he had been writing in and collect what he had written, but you aren't sure what use they may be.
The ravings of sheogorath (vol 1) collected.
---
With the frantic worship and prayers suddenly coming from Winterhold you can do naught but investigate. When you cast your eyes towards your shrine, you find a scene of panic. Many of your followers are gathered as two bodies lay in the snow, their blood scattered and making a vibrant field of red within the white. One of them is Lirwaen Undriel, the priest who had taken over when Dyus returned to you, a puncture through her heart seeping out blood. Despite the cold and age of the corpse the blood still flows freely out, perhaps the result of some poison or enchantment. The other body is clad in black and red leather, a gaping hole through their stomach and out the back from the knight that had been released by the one who found them in the act, a Dunmer named Oronil.
You speak directly to him to hear what he has to say, but unfortunately its nothing you cannot already gather. "I heard a commotion from outside our sanctum, where those of those who tend to your shrine stay. I grabbed one of the knights crystals just in case, but when I went outside this assassin had already murdered poor lady Undriel. I gave a prayer and threw the crystal at the killer, hit him in the head. When the crystal hit the ground the knight grew from it. That assassin tried to flee but the knight caged him in with a growth of crystals, then impaled him on a spear of crystal. I searched the body then called the others here. We found a writ on the assassin, has all of the priestesses information, her schedule, and where to find her on it."
You command him to read it to you, and sure enough it has more information than anyone outside the cult should have access to, but that isn't a confirmation that someone has betrayed you. You give your thanks to the Dunmer and have him command the guardsmen among the cult to step forth. You command them to use what resources they have available to try and find who ordered this assassination, but more importantly to find out where this follower of Sithis came from. After searching over the assassins body for any other signs it is disposed of, dismembered and buried across the coast, while Undirel is given a proper burial in the graveyard of Winterhold, the blame placed on a bandit attack on her way back to the city from errands.
---
In comparison to the Winterhold cult the Falmer are doing incredibly well for themselves. They still have no true settled home in the vale, as they debate whether to settle on the lake, outside the chantry, or near the initial entrance to the vale they had used, but they've made great progress in finding what crops they can plant and harvest, various berries and root vegetables, while starting to develop their own signs of cultural divergence from their 'Betrayed' selves, a term that The Paladin Gelebor is insistent on, beginning to create proper clothing and fabric from a native nettle plant, with some guidance from you as, well as from the semi bio luminescent hides of the native creatures.
Apparently they've recently made contact with a local clan of frost giants living in some of the cave systems unconnected to the greater blackreach cave network. The giants are hesitant to make contact, the initial meeting ending with weapons drawn until both sides backed away, but there's been no further aggressions from them, and you advise the Falmer not to interact with them for the time being to prevent any potential clash between the two groups. With the Falmers progress mostly going smoothly you decide to leave them be for a time, as they cannot hold your hand through their re-emergence, but then you feel something, not a prayer as it lacks in reverence but more an attempt to speak with you.
It comes from Gelebor, the Paladin, the chosen of Auri-el. He stands within the chantry, on its balcony, one hand to his breast with the other held in a half closed fist in front of his face, eyes closed. The door behind him is locked off, keeping any of the scant few snow elves within from seeing him. As far as you can tell he has had no desire to even acknowledge you before so this is an interesting development. You decide to listen in more intently on what he has to say.
"Lord of those no longer betrayed, I beseech you. I am not my lords arch-curate, but he finds himself further and further withdrawn into the chantry, so I ask in his stead. Tell me your intentions for our people. Be you friend or be you foe, we shall do what is necessary." He holds his stance for a moment, before repeating his words, again and again he does this, until eventually you decide to give him an answer. "My intent is to see them re enter the world at large, worshipper of the suns dawn." To his credit he does not jump at your words, though you can sense heightened emotions, shock and conviction.
"And why? Daedra are creatures of fickle whims, everchanging wants and desires, so why would you commit to them in such a way? How am I to know this is not done for the sake of some grand plot, as your kind are want to do? To gain their trust so they woke to cause their own downfall once more, bringing you unto our world as Mehrunes Dagon, as Molag Bal, as Namira, as Mephala, and all other princes have, seeking to claim it in your name?"
[] What is jyggalags response?
---
With the pact with Sheo you can have him do an action for you, still rolling for it of course, or give +25 to a roll
What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one
[] The ghosts of the vale: currently the falmer live among ruins, the same as they had before your intervention, the only difference being that the ruins belong to their people. While you would love to simply give them the secrets to thrive, that wont work in the long run. They will need to show themselves eventually, but for now they can do it in a limited way. Have them venture down the mountains and seek out teachers. DC80
[] Seek out a champion. There are those among the mortals who realize the need for order. Seek one out to act as your agent, to go and do what dyus cannot. Recruiting them may prove challenging, especially without an artifact to tempt them and offer in exchange. DC60
+20 to the roll if you offer an artifact
[] The gifts of man: many artifacts already litter the lands of Skyrim, one needs only look. Of course, looking doesn't mean you would have the artifact for yourself, you would still need to send someone to collect it, but if you could find something you could imbue with your will, spreading your influence would be all the easier.DC80
-the higher the roll the better the item you find.
[] write in. up to qm discretion
---
What shall you do in oblivion?
[] Conquest. While your power is diminished, it would not be impossible to find some corner of oblivion held by a weaker Daedra for you to take for yourself. So long as you don't make too much noise, none would assume you were there. DC60
[] seek out subjects. Daedra are inherently creatures of chaos, but many value strength over ideals. Convince them of your strength, and they will follow. DC70
[] Seek out the other planes. Many are the planes of oblivion, and many are their occupants. You know enough of your kin to know where to avoid, so you could find allies or a realm ripe for the taking. DC70
-the higher the roll, the better plane you find
[] Find allies. without the might you once had, you need allies so that you might not be blindsided. seek others out so you might make an alliance.
-[]who will you seek an alliance with? different daedra will have different dcs, and you need to seek specific Daedra
[] diplomatic efforts: friends and allies can be difficult to keep, so better to maintain contact so that relations don't break down.
-[] who will you try to improve your relationship with.
[] Write in. up to qm discretion
---
What shall you do in your realm?
[] Creation. more artifacts are always useful. You could use some of your remaining power to make something of crystal that you could send unto the planet. Dc75
-[] what shall you make, and what shall it do? Up to qm if your idea would be allowed/ if its too strong
[] Rebuild your library. Once your library rivaled that of Hermeus mora, you imagine it's the reason he played a part in your downfall. Now you would rebuild it. Gather what tomes you can find in oblivion, and begin the calculations of the future as you once had. Dc 60
[] The crystalline Host. With but 8 knights remaining in your service, you need more to serve you. while it takes a follower with a soul to create a true knight, you may be able to create something lesser that could still serve your purposes. DC70
[] Write in. up to qm discretion