Lord of Order

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Free from the curse of Sheogorath, lord Jyggalag must once again take his place among the Daedric Princes.
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Free from chaos
Location
A pit
You feel the hero's sword plunge into your avatar, into where a mortals heart might be, as the staff in their other hand, that wretched thing representing your maddened self, channels Firey magic to burn away your avatar. You feel the power you used to maintain it slipping away. As much as it disgusts you to admit, you are beaten, beaten by this mortal playing at being a god. As injured as they are from your battle they yet stand, panting and bloodied yes yet still alive. How they will learn to regret that they could not die at your hand, cursed as they now are to be turned into that cursed aberration the Daedric lords turned you into. They stand tall, sword and staff readied for what might come next as your avatar fades from existence, but you know there is no point in continuing the fight. You gather some of your power, casting your image before them, and speak.

"Enough! I am beaten. The Greymarch is ended. For millennia this drama has unfolded, and each time, I have conquered this land, only to be transformed back into that gibbering fool, Sheogorath. It was not always so. Once, I ruled this Realm, a world of perfect Order. My dominion expanded across the seas of Oblivion with each passing era. The other Princes, fearful of my power, cursed me with Madness, doomed me to live as Sheogorath, a broken soul reigning in a broken land. Once each era, I was allowed my true form, conquering this world anew. And each time I did, the curse was renewed, damning me to exist as Sheogorath. Now, though, you have ended the cycle. You now hold the mantle of madness, and Jyggalag is free to roam the voids of Oblivion once more. I will take my leave, and you will remain here, mortal. Mortal...? King? God? It seems uncertain. This Realm is yours. Perhaps you will grow to your station. Fare thee well, Sheogorath, Prince of Madness. "

You gather what power you can as you feel yourself dragged out of this realm as it is now fully severed from your being, much like a limb being rent from ones body, giving one last look to this now cursed mortal. Even now, while their physical form is still their own, you can see a flickering visage at their edge, a twisted mirror of yourself. You may never again see this plane, this slice of oblivion that was once your own, that you had been forced to sunder so many times, again. You will have little time, little opportunity to take what vestiges of your power remain here, what few things are still wholly yours in this blighted place.

[] The Librarian, Dyus. You stripped him of his mortality for him to remain your ever faithful servant. With him should still be some few of your many tomes of knowledge, your calculations on the future, and he himself will serve as a valuable emissary in the days to come. (dyus will act as your emissary, you will gain another correct prediction of how the world progressed)

[] The Sword. Your blade lay forgotten in the throne room, disregarded and ignored, perhaps purposefully, perhaps not. While useful for yourself it would serve a greater purpose if you cast it to Nirn to find a champion. (you will gain the blade of Jyggalag as an artifact. Its current enchantment is to allow one who gazes upon its edge to see the past, present, and future of the location they're in.)

[] The grove. Deep within the realm, near its heart, lies one of the oldest and most uncorrupted pieces of your realm, the grove of reflection. the tree is withered, the runestone perhaps the last piece of Mytherias once grand constructions, with this shard of land you may be able to begin more quickly rebuilding a plane of your own. (allows you to begin rebuilding your own Daedric plane more quickly)

You cling to this last shard as you are expunged fully from the shivering isles, left adrift outside the fringes of this new princes realm in oblivion, territory only inhabited by the lesser Daedra. A fitting place for you as you currently are. Much of your strength now lay in the hands of the new god, and unless you act you will not gain new power to fit your title of prince. What you need now is to assess your situation. Much of your knowledge of the ongoings of oblivion, of the other princes, of the affairs of man and mer. With how things have shifted you need to know if any of your predictions still remain true.

Travelling to mundus personally would be a poor idea, a loud proclamation to all that might care to look about your return and intentions, and you would be a fool to paint that target on your back. Creating a Lense, a thin layer in between the realms, is a simple matter in comparison. You stretch thin the veil and gaze upon the realm, near and far, taking in what you can in a short span of time, seeing what is as it should be and what is not. To your vast disappointment, without being able to observe the minor changes the world made from what your calculations predicted and thus your inability to adjust said predications, there is little as it should be. Just a few changes were enough to ripple out and disrupt near everything from their proper course. Your past attempts at prophecy are not proved fruitless however as some few remain on their true course, your knowledge of their events whole.

Choose two events that Jyggalag knows the canon events for, three if you chose Dyus.

Note, Jyggalag can't predict anything that breaks realities rules, such as dragon breaks or Aldiuns return

[] The rise of the Thalmor: currently within the summerset isles an extremist elven political movement gathers power, their goals not only for the ascension of their race as the masters of all other, but something else, something that your calculations couldn't ascertain, and that is worrying enough in itself. Opportunities: can attempt to prevent their attempts to grab power and destabilize the empire

[] The fall of Baar Dau: in the land now called Morrowind a meteor lies trapped in stasis above a city named for a false god. This false god, soon to abandon his city, can no longer hold the meteor with his own power. Your brother Clavicus Vile would offer them a chance to survive, the creation of a machine that would force it to remain in stasis, but that too will fail, causing the desolation of their island and surrounding lands, and further still a cascade of misfortune. Opportunities: may be able to stop the meteor yourself, gaining the worship of some of the dark elves

[] The fate of the Falmer: the pale elves of the north were subject to great cruelties on your time gone, the Dwemer twisting them into horrific monsters, barely more than beasts. Some few remain, though at great expense to themselves. They still hold many secrets, artifacts and more. Opportunities: the collection of various Aurielan and Falmer artifacts, perhaps undo their mutation to gain worshipers

[] The Stormcrown interregnum: with the sacrifice of the last emperor in a successful attempt to defeat your brother Mehrunes Dagon, soon a war shall break out to see who shall rule now, signaled by the death of the empire chancellor. Opportunities: be able to influence the war for the empire

[] The collapse of Winterhold: a century from now the grand city of Winterhold will fall, collapsing into the ghost sea below, sparing but a small portion of the city's outskirts and its grand college of mages. Opportunities: can attempt to stop the collapse, gaining the favor of their wizards

[] The collapse of the dark brotherhood: a wretched order of assassins serving Sithis, it that would cast all into the chaotic void, is collapsing in on itself. If left to its own devices it would destroy itself, and with it the worshipers of that chaos for a time, though it may be better to ensure that destruction occurs. Opportunities: may attempt to hasten the fall of the dark brotherhood and the worshipers of Sithis.

[] The fate of the Nereverine: one of Azuras people has accomplished a great many deeds, and seemingly is the reincarnation of one of the Dunmers false gods. They now find themselves far from the land where they made their name, in the black marshes, having apparently aided their people during Dagons failed invasion. Opportunities: may be able to recruit the Nereverine as a champion

[] write in: suggest something else for jyggalag to have predicted, subject to qm approval

With this basic patchwork of knowledge put together you need to act quickly ere your kin find you unprepared. You need more power so that you may not be snuffed out before you can bring order to this realm, and to get power you need worship, followers to offer unto you prayers and sacrifice, as well as Daedra and servants in oblivion. For now however you would do well to simply begin a cult to gain followers in one of the realms many lands.

[] Cyrodil: the heart of the empire and homeland of the imperials, you can feel the effects of a dragon break even as you look upon it, patches of the land changing between lush forest and think jungle, multiple seemingly incompatible events happening all at once, but more important than that this is the center of civilization and order for the world, though how long it will remain so is uncertain.

[] Morrowind: home to the dark elves and false gods. It is a land of faith and conflict, perfect grounds for one to find followers, especially as they are already accustomed to the worship of Daedra in parts of it.

[] Skyrim: a land of ice and tundra, home to the unruly Nords. The burial grounds of ancient faiths and dwemer ruins can be found here for those willing to look.

[] High Rock: the land of kings and coin, a land where any may be king of his own hill. Perhaps the most orderly of the current realms of men and mer, though it is still wanting.

[] Hammerfell: a land of swords and valor, ancient sand covered ruins hide the secrets and riches of the ancient dead. Their distrust of Daedra is great however.

[] Valenwood: a land flush with both life and death, the wood elves thrive in this untamable land. The chaotic nature of this land is in need of correcting.

[] Elsweyr: a land of warm sands and dense jungle. The Khajit make this land their home from which caravans flow in and out as its lifeblood.

[] Black Marsh: To be honest with yourself, you doubt this would make for a good place to plant roots, as its already overflowing with the roots of the hist. not to mention the native Argonians have a very recent history of invading oblivion, but perhaps they could be convinced to accept your presence

[] The Summer set isles: home to the elven kingdoms and secret plots. They hold great influence for now, but who knows if it will be wielded to bring order or further chaos.

[] Blackreach: as close to a capital as these cursed beings have, the Falmer can be found in great number there. Forsaken by their old gods you might find some lesser but willing servants among them.

[] Pyandonea: a continent to the south of Tamriel, lacking in connections to the outside world and ruled over by the sea elves. Spreading your faith within it would prove simpler, though outside would be challenging.

[] The reach: a contested area inbetween high rock and Skyrim filled with a primitive and hostile people. Its denizens are used to Daedra worship already, but you can't say they would appreciate your goals.

With your starting grounds in mind, now you must find a goal, a task to labor towards. Amassing power and worship is but a means to an end, and you have quite a few in mind. Better to focus on but one for now so you can bring your all for it. whatever the course you choose however, there is but one true goal for you lord Jyggalag, true, perfect order.

[] reclaim the domain of natural order from Peryite: the sniveling serpent of the princes, as you were being cursed by their coalition, made certain that he carved from you lordship over the natural order of the world. Even as the former weakest of the Daedra, he is still a threat to you.

[] reclaim your library from Hermaeus Mora: just as the little dragon had stolen a piece of your domain, mora had stolen vast parts of your library, your accumulated knowledge of the world as it was and your calculations for what it would be, tucked away in the library of apocrypha. You want them back.

[] A realm of your own: to take a piece of oblivion for your own is no easy thing. It is a realm made to obey your whims and will. While it would allow you to greatly increase your influence in oblivion, nothing would make for a brighter beacon of your return.

[] gain an ally among your kin: they will learn of your existence sooner or later. It may do well to gain at least ones confidence in you before they all become aware.

-[] which prince

[] gain a solid foundation on Nirn: you need more than just a few cultists, you need to make something that will last, either by gaining a large enough amount of followers or powerful enough followers
---
Yes hi hello, welcome to this new quest. as you no doubt surmised you will be playing the daedric prince jyggalag, the god of order in the elder scrolls series.
 
Jyggalag
The Daedric prince of order, formerly the cursed sheogorath, now free

Titles: The grey prince of order

Followers: Dyus, the cult in winterhold, the Falmer, dunmer

Domains: Order

Subdomains: Logical order, deduction, wisdom, civilization

Artifacts: the blade of jyggalag. A greatsword of pure white. Nearly too large for the hands of mortals, if it's wielder gazed upon the edge of this blade they can see the past, present, and future go where they are

The soulscribe: a quill used by you and sheogorath that took on some of your divine spark. One writing with it can only write as their soul intends, and anything written shall reappear within your library.

Umbra: formerly a sword belonging to and housing a piece of Clavicus vile, you have taken this blade and made it your own. the sword saps away at the souls of its targets, and when it slays someone the soul is sent to its patron, yourself.

Traits:
Prophet of the future: once you had a magnificent library within which you kept your calculations for the future of all reality. While it is gone now it can be remade or retaken. As you rebuild your library you will gain extra rolls for the actions you take, taking the higher result.
Current library progress: 19/100%

+5 to actions in oblivion

+5 to actions on nirn

Faith: 25/200

Power: 31
-Your power is on the scale of deities, so even a low number still means you are very powerful
for example the tribunal would be somewhere around 15-20 each

In the ages before man and mer recorded history, jggalag was feared and hated by his fellow princes as his forces of order swept across the Daedric planes, encroaching on their territory. In an act not even he could predict, one that went against the Daedras natures, they banded together to place a curse upon him, forcing him to become that which was most antithetical to his nature. From this curse he became sheogorath, prince of madness.
In an act of unnecessary pettiness the crafters of his curse made it so that at the end of every era the prince of order would return from curses madness, only so that he might destroy what Sheogorath had built over the remains of his own plane.
This time however, there was a difference. Sheogorath had planned and plotted, calling forth a champion, one with proven skill for defying daedra, to prevent the graymarch and end the curse. This plan, however, did not go the way sheogorath had wanted. They were too late to prevent his shift back to the prince of order, but his champion would not give up. Instead they took upon themselves the mantle of the mad god and bested Jyggalag, preventing the destruction of the shivering isles and thereby breaking the curse.
Now the lord of order is free, free to seek vengeance, free to bring order, and free to see his will be done.
 
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First Steps
You find that only a small part of the world went as it should have in your absence, but what went the way they were supposed to go only seems to include those events that would bring the world further into the grips of chaos. The rise of an authoritarian and elven supremacist nation of Alinor, willing to do whatever they can to grasp power for their goals, goals your calculations could never bring a satisfactory answer to. The malediction of the snow elves, their sundering at the hands of the Dwemer, now somehow erased from reality by all accounts, leaving them to further rot and fester as the abominable things they have become. And lastly the collapse of Winterhold, an event that would set back the pursuit of knowledge by centuries, not only through the loss of scholars and hoarded knowledge, but also through the rise of distrust for the magical arts. Without your hand to guide them this world has fallen further and further to chaos and madness. It needs your hand to guide them, to pull them away from their sickening descent.

You decide to start upon the lands of Skyrim, a cold and unwelcoming land. Home to wild lands teeming with all manner of creature, ancient ruins of long dead civilizations filled with the unresting dead, the hircine worshipping tribes of the Reachmen, dark and deep caves infested with the twisted Falmer, and feuding jarls seeking to dominate the political landscape, it is a chaotic place you would not normally deign with your presence except to bring order to it by force. However, as your calculation for this lands future have remained largely accurate, you know it to be your best chance.

"Dyus." You utter, your voice deep, but ever so slightly weak. The result of being truly cut off from the majority of your power. Sheogoraths power now. The fact disgusts you, but there is no purpose to lingering on it. "You will go forth unto these lands, you will gather what followers you can to my will. You are also to gather what information you can on the history of the world since my corruption, every last piece so that I may rebegin my calculations. Take what remains of my library with you, keep it secure and safe." commands, not requests, though you know dyus would obey your every word. "Of course my lord." His voice, ragged and raspy. While you had removed his mortality, without your presence to strengthen him his form has aged considerably, resembling a man in his grave, though as your power grows he should regain some of his lost vigor.

The veil between Oblivion and the realm of Nirn was strengthened, you note, since what the mortals call the merethic era, and recently at that. You doubt you would be able to pierce it yourself as you are now, but as dyus is still of the mortal races, he is easily able to slip through with your aid. Its as simple as summoning one of your knights but in reverse, an exertion of your will to place him where he needs to be. He lands among the eastern region, an area of hot springs and cold fields of rye, a port city to his north. Eastmarch, from what you can gather. From there dyus will move on to where you deem best to restart your faith.

Choose where to send dyus, each area will have its own downsides and benefits.

[] The City of Windhelm. The oldest human settlement on Nirn still in use, the city is the nearest port to the lands of Morrowind and serves as a stronghold to Nordic culture despite the amount of foreign trade it sees.

[] The City of Riften. The major trade city of Skyrim, caravans from throughout the empires lands see this as the only city worth traveling to for trade, leading to a large and diverse population, but also severe corruption and crime.

[] The City of Winterhold. A city of magic and secrets, secrets soon to be lost to the sea of ghosts. It is home to the college of Winterhold, a place feared by the Nords as much as it is respected.

[] The town of Dawnstar. A small port and mining town in perhaps the least developed part of Skyrim. It would be easy to go unnoticed by the world at large here, though something about it fills you with disgust.

[] the town of Morthal. A town hidden in mist and surrounded by fog, it is perhaps the least important of all the lands of Skyrim. What it does have is exotic alchemical reagents and anonymity.

[] The city of solitude. Perhaps the most modernized of Skyrims lands, solitude often serves as the capital for those that rule over all of the province. Beyond that it serves as a major trading port with its neighbors in high rock, the Breton kingdom.

[] The Reach. A contested land, fought over by the Nords and Reachmen, it is home to many Dwemer ruins, its capitol even housed in a Dwemer hold. The Reachmen of this land still worship the Daedra, but favor the likes of Hircine and Mephala.

-[] Will you focus on the Reachmen or the Nords?

[] the City of Whiterun. The city at the center of Skyrim, it sees the most inter-province traffic in Skyrim. The cold plains surrounding it are as home to the nomadic giants as they are to bandits. Old ruins can be found wherever one looks, with perhaps its most impressive one being the labyrinthian. You cant help but notice however the stink of other Daedric lords in the area.

[] the town of Falkreath. A land of death and life. Not only is the land filled with worshipers of Arkay, meaning a harder time for dyus to convert them, but you feel that same rot as you had in Dawnstar.

With your servant sent off you find yourself alone on the unclaimed plains of oblivion. Outside the control of any ruler such as a prince, lesser Daedra, or even those few mortals skilled enough in Magick to claim a piece for themselves, it appears as a desolate plain, vast fields of nothing stretching on and on, pale and lifeless with no will to shape it. lesser Daedra, typically those unassociated with any prince, roam these lands, thought they often seek out a stronger Daedras plane or to escape onto Nirn. Here on the verge of your former home Theres some few scant traces of its flora and fauna, a few of the mushrooms that grow smaller as the distance grows, a few iridescent butterflies, flitting away from the clannfears trying to bite them from the air. Further away you notice slight beads of light, similar to the stars that lead to Aetherius, the telltale sign of other planes within oblivion.

Once you had led your knights of order far and wide, spreading out further and further, giving meaning to these wretched lands, taking them from the hands of unworthy, chaotic beasts, your fellow Daedra. This land had order once, and now look at what its been brought back to, wastes and warlords seeking nothing more than power they would never have, just as it had been, just as the princes wanted it to be. You find yourself looking back on their trap, their trick to curse you, but nothing can be done to change that now. You need to act, both here on oblivion and on Nirn.

You cannot pierce the veil of oblivion, not as you are. You can however summon what knights of order you still can, what few remain loyal to you and whole, to Nirn as you had dyus. How you would use them, however, is up to you. you need not even use them, as making your voice known to the mortals is a trifling matter. The problem, however, is the need to maintain some degree of subtlety. If you found an enemy returned as weak as you are you would crush them where they stand, and you have no doubt the princes would do the same. With that said, keeping your head down would leave you blind, and some risk must be taken, and you have neither the time nor foreknowledge to predict where your future should lie. You must act with wisdom.

What shall you do in nirn? Choose one

[] Send your knights to aid mortals. The lands are dangerous, and to have your knights be their saviors would garner good will towards them, and thus yourself. Even if the act by itself wouldn't draw followers, nobody would assume your followers have ill intentions. DC25

-Higher rolls mean more people saved/more signifigant people are saved

[] Send the knights to the cult. the knights shall attend to dyus, protecting him and serving him as they can. They may be good for little more than combat, incapable of speech, their beings given entirely unto order, but dyus is clever, he'll know how best to use them.

-Dyus will be given control of the knights while he begins to build the cult, though he isn't defenseless without them

[] Establish a relationship with the Falmer. These things cannot be considered truly sentient anymore, even their souls are corrupted by the Dwemers touch. However, you cant fix that without first seeing what you have to work with in depth. It may be difficult, but you've faced greater challenges. DC75

-you will attempt to forge a covenant with the Falmer, so that you might begin fixing them or converting them to your faith.

[] 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

[] 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. DC40

[] seek out subjects. Daedra are inherently creatures of chaos, but many value strength over ideals. Convince them of your strength, and they will follow. DC50

[] Creation. With the sword forgotten in the mad ones palace, you are bereft of an artifact to entrust onto a champion. You could use some of your remaining power to make something of crystal that you could send unto the planet. Dc55

-[] what shall you make, and what shall it do? Up to qm if your idea would be allowed/ if its too strong

[] 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

[] A Home of your own. It would take some power of yours to create a new plane, but it would be less dangerous to your anonymity than trying to take one from a different Daedra. You might wish to make some distance between yourself and the fools isles first. DC20

[] Write in. up to qm discretion
 
The cold walls of Winterhold
When you had last made contact with Dyus he had just made his way to the gates of Winterhold, Riding upon a cart carrying the remains of your library, in his pockets 8 Crystals from which he could summon forth your knights. The last of your knights to remain after their defeat at the hand of the one who would become Sheogorath. It had been Dyus to suggest hiding them these crystals, as it would be unlikely for the guards to aloe the man inside, flanked by crystalline knights. Even without them they barely let him in, suspicious of all as these Nords were.

The city was built on a high cliff of stone and frozen soil overlooking the sea of ghosts, large switchback paths leading down to the coast where ships lay in the ports. Some few are for trade, but the majority are smaller fishing and whaling ships. These ships bring in a majority of the city's major goods, food to fill their bellies as the lands are near incapable of growing all but the most hardy of plants, and whale oil to keep the city livable. Large troughs of steel, inspired by Dwarvern designs, carry burning oil along the major streets and paths, keeping them warm enough to keep from freezing over as well as providing light during their many dark, cloudy days.

Dyus, however, has seen little of these benefits since arriving. In the few months since you last spoke with him the Nords have shown him little comfort. He finds himself in the lower part of the city, where its ports and sailors call home. It is home to the fisherman, the whalers, and the non Nordic peoples without enough coin, clout, or magic to make their way up top. He finds himself working as both a clerk and bookbinder for the people of the seabound district, having purchased a small and somewhat rundown building to work and live out of, he oftentimes finding himself sought for his services by the less well off of the college. They will come to him largely for the purchase of new tomes, either for them to write their spells in or for journals, but some come to him for something they cannot get in the college. Tomes from the Merethic era.

Those that Dyus believes might be willing to join in your worship, whether they be members of the college or other denizens of the port district, he first offers them a chance to look at his private collection, many being the remaining tomes that you had acquired or written yourself in what they would call the early Merethic era. It draws many like flies to honey, and while he wouldn't yet call any full worshippers, some among have caught his eye. The main issue, however, is that many still have no love for the Daedra after Dagons recent attempt to conquer Nirn, so Dyus must be careful in how much he can allow them to learn about you or your purpose, lest he be discovered as a Daedra worshiper.

Beyond his attempts to begin the cult, Dyus has also been looking into the collapse of Winterhold. The act itself is some many years off, but that doesn't mean he can't look into ways to prevent it. according to your old calculations, the events that will lead to the collapse will begin with a far-off desolation, a minor cataclysmic event. Before it had been most likely for it to have been an earthquake, a devastating shattering of the lands north of the ghost sea, but the events that would have led to that event never occurred. The collapse, meanwhile, just needs a neighboring cataclysm to happen, and you can't place what it might be just yet. Dyus seeks ways to reinforce the land, perhaps through garnering the support of the local spirits or the mages college, and often sends the knights or even adventurers to seek other means in the nearby lands, thought nothing of note has come up yet.

Your efforts in oblivion, meanwhile, have borne fruit. It took more power than you would have liked, but now, on the far fringes of oblivion as far from the fools' lands as you could get, there's a little pocket of reality, all your own. Of course it is nothing in comparison to the lands of Mytheria, that land now twisted into the isle, barely a few miles across with but a single alabaster fort from which you could rule, but it is a start. It is through a mix of practicality and begrudging sentimentality that you model it off of old Mytheria, a place of purpose and reason. Simple buildings that would store your acquired knowledge or followers, plain white walls made of dense stone with flat roofs, of a size where you can comfortably move between them. A pale crystal lies at the center, a small thing, barely half the height of a man, but with time it shall grow greater and greater.

The lands surrounding you fortress are covered in plain, short grasses. You dare not make more than that, as with the domain of natural order stolen by that rat Peryite you could not guarantee its stability. Even for how little it is, you allow yourself some pleasure in knowing that there exists something completely orderly within oblivion once more. However, to treat this as a major accomplishment would not only be foolish, but invite complacency. More can be done, more will be done. First, however, this realm of yours needs a name.

What shall you name it?

[] Mytheria. It was the name of your lands once, why not name it that again?

[] write in

Already you find yourself fending off would be invaders, pathetic Dremora or Xivilai. They believe you to be an easy target, thinking that as you are only a single Daedra that's expended their energy on a plane. They're easy enough to destroy, and those that attempt to invade your realm shall find no other fate, but you admit it would be easier had you the subjects to tend to the realm. For now though, you must plan what you shall do.

What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one

[] Establish a relationship with the Falmer. These things cannot be considered truly sentient anymore, even their souls are corrupted by the Dwemers touch. However, you cant fix that without first seeing what you have to work with in depth. It may be difficult, but you've faced greater challenges. DC75

-you will attempt to forge a covenant with the Falmer, so that you might begin fixing them or converting them to your faith.

[] 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

[] 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.

[] A Gods Blessing. The mortals are an ever predictable lot. While some will follow you for your ideals, others need a nudge of incentive. Craft a blessing that Dyus might weave into a shrine to you to attract followers. DC45

-[] what shall your blessing do?

[] 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. DC40

[] seek out subjects. Daedra are inherently creatures of chaos, but many value strength over ideals. Convince them of your strength, and they will follow. DC50

[] 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

[] Write in. up to qm discretion

What shall you do in your realm?

[] Creation. With the sword forgotten in the mad ones palace, you are bereft of an artifact to entrust onto a champion. You could use some of your remaining power to make something of crystal that you could send unto the planet. Dc55

-[] 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 calulations of the future as you once had. Dc 65

[] 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
 
The conquest of giants
To communicate with those on Nirn is not a simple thing. If they already pray to and worship you, that's different, they are allowing you direct access to them, allowed to speak directly into their ear much as you do with Dyus. Otherwise you might use a medium, a shrine or artifact of yours, but neither is an option either. Without that tie, that link, you need more indirect methods to contact the Falmer.

Deep in their caverns you scry for any thing you might use to channel your thoughts, some crystal similar to your own or something else perhaps. In the end, after many weeks of searching, you find something, a growth of quartz hanging on a low ceiling, with one of the Falmer close at hand. Seeing them up close now, you feel disgust for just how horrific they've become. This ones eyes, pure white, are recessed far back into its head, lids nearly covering them over completely. The ears have taken over as the primary observational organ, using a form of echolocation in place of their ruined sight. The body is hunched over to better move through their tunnels, its body almost emaciated from a diet of chaurus and mushrooms with the rare traveler thrown in. If ever there was a creature deserving of as much pity as it has revulsion, these would be it.

You direct your thoughts at the creature, channeled through the crystal. "Hear me, Falmer, and obey. Your people have been corrupted, betrayed by the Dwemer that offered you shelter from the war with man. While I cannot give you back your lost empire, I can undo what has been forced onto you." It does not hear the words you use, as you imagine it has forgotten the common tongue of Nirn, but rather it understands the meaning of them. Understanding, however, does not mean trusting.

As your words come to it it raises its spear in a defensive hold, giving out a screech followed by the low chittering language they have adopted, a mix of the original Falmeri and Dwemeri, now butchered and twisted, but the meaning is obvious. "Invader! Specter! Ghost whisperer, Banish it!" It seeks out the source of your words, the crystal, and once it is found they give a second screech. Not long after half a dozen other Falmer, accompanied by one of their shamans, have entered the cavern. Even with your divine wisdom, making out their words is difficult, but you understand enough.

"Evil specter! Foul dwemack! Flee! Leave! Haunt us no more!" the shaman shouts. Hmm, Dwemack is new, perhaps a word for an enemy given the similarities to Dwemer? Better spoken than the lesser one you initially spoke to, though not by much. "I mean to offer you salvation Mer. To bring an order that has been stripped from your lives back." You put more power into your voice, to show this shaman that you will not fear it, as well as to convince it of your strength. It also seems to think on what you said, if only for a moment, but it seems to have little trust in your words. Fitting, for how they were betrayed once, you suppose. "No! Words are wind. Dwemack or Daidri, all lie! Brothers! Break the stone so it may speak no more!" and with the order the Falmer begin attacking the quartz with their spears. They chip away at it, causing cracks to form, already weakening your connection here. Frustration takes hold but you compose yourself.

"If you will not listen now, then so be it. I will return, however, and bring the offer again. Whether it be to your clan or one far away, one of you will see the wisdom in my aid. And when that time comes the Falmer shall become unbroken, saved from the fate of remaining the twisted things I see before me. You merely delay it." and with those last words one the Falmer strike true, cracking off the crystal from where it hung, sending it to where it shatters on the ground, severing your connection and causing you a minor headache.

You find yourself in the central chancel of your alabaster keep at the center of Mytheria, hand placed upon the crystal at its heart. The pain in your head quickly fades, but not the frustration. If you had your former strength you wouldn't need to convince them through words but enforce your will through the might of your crystalline order. That isn't an option, you must remind yourself, so next time you shall be more convincing. The anger still lingers however.

Thankfully your plans gave you the perfect outlet for that emotion. You would march on your neighbors, demanding their fealty. If they would not accept than you would bring your might upon them. While you couldn't yet manifest that strength on Nirn, you are yet a prince of oblivion despite your kins best attempts. To conquer simple lesser Daedra would be childs play. You needn't even a weapon, though you admit you would feel better, more complete, with sword or spear in hand. No matter.

---

The nearest realm to your own, though not near enough for the borders of your realms to meet, is one of fire and magic. Similar to one a fire elemental might call home, but from your observations you know it to be home to a Havrocel, a giant of a Daedra, blind as a Falmer. Once conquered and made subservient to your will you will be able to freely shape its land, add it that of Mytheria, and make its denizens obey you. You march forth from the gates of Mytheria, stepping back out onto the in-between lands of oblivion, towards the light of the giants realm.

Crossing the threshold you feel a wave of heat as you step into a volcanic land, most of its land made of barely cooled magma, obsidian spires scratching at the sky, with a fortress of unmolten stone at its center, various smaller buildings surrounding it, seemingly modeled after a mortal mercenary enclave. Fitting for the Havrocel, as they often serve as mercenaries for whichever prince can offer the most tempting of rewards. You march forth towards the doors of hot, glowing steel, ready to issue your demands.

You push open the doors, finding yourself in a grand hall, Dremora stopped in the midst of revelry or combat, now paused to stare at the pale intruder. "Listen well." You call out for all to hear. "I have come to demand this land from the Daedra who calls himself its lord. Let him reveal himself to me, or I shall seek him out." You stand there a moment, awaiting their response. The first is laughter. A Herne, a satyr like Daedra with long curling horns, stands from a long table with spear in hand and begins to strut towards you.

"Quite the mighty claim for such a sorry looking creature. Are you even Daedra? You look like some Overgrown, old mortal. Are you perhaps the latest to come here to serve as our jester? In that case you've done well to make us laugh, but the insult to Xorvanis cannot go unanswered I'm afraid. If you can survive your beating mayhaps you'll be forgiven and allowed –" he is close to you now, spear nearly poking your chest. While the Xerne is talking you grab the weapon, pulling him towards you and off balance. With your other hand you grab for his horn, and use it as a handle as you pull him to the ground. You smash his head into the obsidian floor, cracking it and breaking the horn off in your hand, and when the Xerne doesn't try to get up, moaning in pain on the floor, you look back up towards the now staring crowd.

"I will not repeat myself. Show me to your lord before I make my way to him." More force now put into your voice, leaving it to echo off the walls. You handle the spear in your hands while awaiting their response. Its small in your hands, more of a shortspear, made of wood from Hircines plane. A simple thing for a simple Daedra. You toss it aside as you hear approaching footsteps, loud and heavy. Stepping out from behind a curtain at the far end of the hall is the giant Havrocel.

"I hear I've been challenged, and that some fool tried fighting my battles for me. I would have my challengers name before this bout." The giant has long, dark hair reaching to his shoulders, a silver visor covering his sightless eyes. Dark tattoos snake their way across his body, a long robe hanging from his shoulders and tied around his waste, a short sword for his size at his waist. "I am Jyggalag, the prince of order." From the reactions of those around you, none recognize the name. the giant lets out a deep breath.

"Then you may call me Xorvanis. If you would fight me without arms than I shall meet the challenge. Clear the floor!" his last words an order to the other Daedra. They scurry away, pushing tables and weapon stands to the far edges of the hall. the giant steps towards its center, exerting his will to create a circle, a ring for you to fight in. he grabs the sword from his side and tosses it aside, stepping inside his quickly made arena. "Come, Jyggalag, and test youre might."

Though the giant is still of greater size than you, among Daedra size is less important for their total strength. It does, however, mean he is longer limbed and thus harder to effectively attack. But You are a Daedric prince still. his first blow you evade to the side, grabbing the arm as it flew past you. you bring your other arm around to smash your forearm against his elbow in an attempt to crack it, but the giant moves with your pull, turning to drive his fist into your chest. You release your hold, moving behind him and pushing the giant forward. With his back to you and following his inertia forward, you have a perfect opportunity to strike. You charge forward and leap, bringing your fists together to smash down on his back. The blow lands straight between his shoulder blades onto his spine, causing a crack to be heard. A fatal wound for a mortal, a painful but survivable one for Daedra.

The giant drops to his knee, still not down. You move up along his side, going for his head, only to have a handful of ash and dust thrown in your face. A cheap trick, but enough to buy him time to get back to his feet, the expression on his face one of frustration and worry.no matter, he's merely bought himself time. The facture in his back slows him, makes his legs more shaky, a good target. You rush forward, once again ducking below his blow, you use your other hand to push him by the arm, twisting him to the side slightly, then you bring up you foot then stomp down at the side of his knee, once again driving him to the ground. From there you rush for his head, hooking your arms around his throat in a hold, crushing it and nearly ripping the giants head off.

"Yield!" you call out, tightening your hold. "Yield and you may live as my subject!" you demand of him. the giant tries to hold out, struggling against you, swiping at you or swinging his head back trying to hit you, but you stay strong. Eventually he starts to still, his hand tapping at your arm. You release him and he falls to his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering. With him on the ground you notice the crowd around you now. They had gathered around the fight, watching how it went, and now that its over they glare your way. Curiosity and hate in equal measure. Time to tell them their place.

"As the victor of this fight, I claim this land as my own. If you dislike this than leave, but this is my land and it shall obey only my will from now on." Its more than just words as well, you can already feel the place as one of your own, feel it shifting towards and merging with Mytheria. At those words a handful of the crowd back away, leaving by foot or teleportation. Others back away, keeping their eyes on you but trying to return to what they had been doing before. Others still seem ready to pick a fight.

"Back away now. He would tear you apart and the only mark of your existence left would be the stains on the floor." The giants voice is hoarse, scratchy do to the damage you dealt to his throat, but he is slowly getting back to his feet. At his words the rest of the crowd disperses. He 'looks' towards you with his eyeless visage. "So, you are lord of this land now. Hopefully you wont waste it, otherwise I might try and take it back." He says, before walking off towards one of the tables, sitting on the ground near it as he calls for a Dremora to tend his injuries.

Enforcing your will on the new shard of your realm you grow within it a crystal at its center, just as you had for your own. It is smaller than the original, but it shall also grow, just as your original does. Stepping outside the giants former hall you can see your fortress, the realms merged for the most part. with this conquest done, you return to your capital, for something hopefully more relaxed.

+5 to power

Mytheria has grown, and with it your power in oblivion. The greater you power, the more likely you are to succeed at oblivion actions and can catch up to the other daedric princes. You also get a +5 to oblivion rolls.

---

You feel more and more hate for Hermaeus moras theft of your library as you begin your work on rebuilding your library. Multiple shelves are made, divided into their various topics and subdivided by authors. The problem however is that you have few books to place in these shelves. You gave them largely to Dyus in the hopes he could make use of them, which he has, but it means you have to find new books. Your conquest of the new parts of Mytheria could have given you new material, but you've found nothing within. Not a single scrap of knowledge worth anything. Xorvanis at least has the excuse of not having the eyes needed to read, but none of the mercenary Daedra seemed to have anything either.

Without anything to fill your library, you must begin creating your own writings once more. You begin with writing down your history from where you had left off, from a battle with Boethia in what you can now see was a diversion for the princes trap. You fill the pages with everything you can recollect from that event, from its beginning to end. Its enough to fill a tome of its own. From there you begin to write of your time free from Sheogorath, the events of the greymarches, what little fragments you can remember from when you were trapped within his mind. As for the events from your release from the curse, there's too little to write about just yet. So for your grand library there's currently only two tomes. A great start.

---

While you've been toiling away in your attempts to sway the Falmer and to bring your newly conquered realm to your standards, Dyus has been making leaps and bounds in his work on building your cult. He's now a fairly well established figure in Winterhold, primarily for the college and those on the portside district of Winterhold. Many now seek him for his wisdom and insight, but more importantly, some now come to him for yours. It's a small thing, with but a few members consisting of college members and some sailors, but you can feel their prayers, their faith slowly growing.

They worship you in the hopes of gaining intelligence, wisdom, or for some form of order to take hold of Tamriel. They meet once a month on an islet to the east where a stone carved with the symbol of the serpent lies. There he tells them of your tales, your lessons, and how to worship you properly. They offer you their prayers, their service, and while it may be little yet, it is the first brick from which a bastion of order might arise.

+5 faith

-Faith is the resource used to expand jyggalags domains, affect the mortal plane, or to do other great divine acts. +5 to rolls in nirn

---

What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one

[] Establish a relationship with the Falmer. These things cannot be considered truly sentient anymore, even their souls are corrupted by the Dwemers touch. However, you can't fix that without first seeing what you have to work with in depth. It may be difficult, but you've faced greater challenges. DC70

-you will attempt to forge a covenant with the Falmer, so that you might begin fixing them or converting them to your faith.

[] 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

[] 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.

[] A Gods Blessing. The mortals are an ever predictable lot. While some will follow you for your ideals, others need a nudge of incentive. Craft a blessing that Dyus might weave into a shrine to you to attract followers. DC45

-[] what shall your blessing do?

[] 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. DC50

[] 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

[] Write in. up to qm discretion

What shall you do in your realm?

[] Creation. With the sword forgotten in the mad ones palace, you are bereft of an artifact to entrust onto a champion. You could use some of your remaining power to make something of crystal that you could send unto the planet. Dc50

-[] 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 calulations of the future as you once had. Dc 65

[] 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
 
Forging a Covenant
The crafting of a blessing is not a simple thing, for you especially. For it to take effect one must not only attune themselves to you through one of your shrines, you must alter the nature of that connection. They offer onto you their faith, their worship, and in return you intended to offer clarity of the mind, to allow them to think clear without the intrusion of unrelated thoughts. What you got however, wasn't quite that.

One of your followers, an ork whaler that had joined early on in Dyus's attempts to form the cult, was the first to accept the blessing. Instead of giving him the clarity of thought you had intended, you instead gave him all of the thoughts. Multiple trains of thoughts started going off in his mind, one on the migration patterns of the whales they'd be hunting on his next trip, on whether the guards might grow suspicious of his recent trips to the shadow stone, on how he might impress the barmaid at the tavern he liked, and very many more things all at the same time. You stopped it quickly so he might not overwhelm himself, but he walked away with a raging headache.

Dyus was able to salvage the situation, saying that a surge of magic near the stone had caused a disruption in the connection to you, but it doesn't resolve your need to form a blessing. The problem comes from needing to find the right measure of your influence to send their way, not to mention simply shaping that influence correctly. Once that's figured out it would be simple to maintain it no matter the amount of followers you might have. If only the figuring out would be as easy. You take a break from the attempts at shaping the blessing for the time, wishing to use your time for something more efficient.

---

You need subjects in oblivion. Your fortress is empty aside from yourself. The land you took is technically inhabited but the Daedra that remain there don't truly serve you. some pay lip service while others don't even do that, using the lands as they had before, a resting place until they found new employment. The giant, Xorvanis, at least gives you some respect, but that respect isn't reciprocated by the other mercenary Daedra. Time to change that.

You march toward the new part of your realm, already shifting towards the rest of your realm. Obsidian walls slowly turning to pale stone, volcanic crags closing and growing over with patches of crystal. An obelisk of order forms at the top of the volcano, now dead and dormant, barely peaking out from the volcanic maw, though eventually it shall stand high and imposing for all to see. They should realize your dominion over this place already just by looking around, but you suppose you shall need to make them know their place.

You enter their citadel, your citadel, and find them much the same as you had before. At your entrance they stare your way a moment, skepticism, fear, loathing on their face. They are rowdy, bored, trying to fill their time with whatever they might imagine while waiting for the next Daedra to whip them into shape. It's a good thing you are here. They would never make for priests, and a Daedra would never give its soul to become a knight, but you will make do.

"The lord of these lands comes into this hall and you yet sit idle. Tell me, have all Daedra become as indolent as you have or are you merely lacking in the drive to act on your own." You bellow out, voice echoing off the halls. That certainly gets their attention. The Herne, the satyr like Daedra whos horn you had broken, apparently still remains here, and is just as mouthy as before, not having learned his lesson the first time. "All that has come into this hall is some Daedroth pretending to be a prince. You claim to be Jyygalag, even though he was killed by the others ages ago, and if you follow in his footsteps I don't want to be caught in the true princes sights when they come to reenact history."

You narrow your eyes at this fool, who has tasted your strength first hand yet still refuses it. "Should I break off the other horn so as proof of my divinity, you lowly goat, or must I destroy you for that lesson to set in? I am no pretender to the title of order, I am no wormling using a name greater than my own to rise beyond my station, I am as true a prince as every other." You say as you slowly walk to the center of the hall so that all may hear, and none could ignore you. "I aim to carve out a new Mytheria, one equal to the realms of Coldharbor, of the Deadlands, of the Hunting Grounds, and yet greater still beyond that, and I offer you the chance to be a part of that, but should you deny that offer I shall not fear to crush you in my wake."

Your words end with a wave of silence, none offering any retort or insult. Stunned or appraising your words you know not which it is. Then, after the silence grows deafening, it is broken by a familiar voice. "We are mercenaries, lord Jyggalag." Xorvanis, the giant who you had taken the realm from in the first place, speaks with a rumbling voice, like that of a volcano ready to unleash devastation. "We fight for wealth, we fight for power, we fight to claim the souls of mortals. Me, I couldn't give a fuck. I fight because I enjoy it. but if you want us to fight under your banner, your creed, or whatever else it might be, than offer us what we want, and we are yours."

Theres rumbling amongst the assembled Daedra, most of it reluctantly agreeing with the giant. Very well, if that's what gains their loyalty. "I have little desire for wealth or souls not freely offered unto me, so if that is what you seek you may have them. My aim is far beyond this corner of oblivion, so you shall have blood and riches aplenty. In return you shall give me your loyalty, your fealty, and swear yourselves to my will. That is my offer, and if any of you would refuse it than leave this place, never to return."

You emphasize this with a crack of your hands, an unsaid threat. You'd would prefer to fight with a weapon, a real one, not something that only exists by your will, but your bare hands are enough to follow through with the threat. Some few spit and leave, cursing you out, but the rest are willing enough to follow you, if only for the benefits. It is a small start, a spattering of Daedra of many varieties, but it is a start still. You can still have more however.

You make your way to Xorvanis, seated at the end of one of the long tables on a piece of broken stone. He sharpens the same shortsword he had tossed aside for your bout before, though even in your hands it would be more of a longsword or even greatsword and impossible to wield for the common Dremora or men. He does not look towards you when you approach, though given his sightlessness its not a sign of disrespect. "The Daedra here respect you giant. More than they do myself."

He places the stone and rag he's using aside and sheaths his sword before speaking. "they respected me because I was the boss around here for a long time, and in that time I never made a demand. Didn't want to, didn't even want to be in charge, but the last guy who ran this place, some ornery Perthan that I never caught the name of, started demanding a cut of whatever someone brought in. Crushed them like the bug they were, got made the new boss until you came around, and in all that time they were free to do as they pleased." He says nonchalantly.

"And now? Will they try to kill me for making a demand of them?" you ask of the giant. He gives it thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "Nah. Least not for demanding they serve you, not so long as you arent making them give their treasures unto you. Maybe Loquern, that Herne whose horn you broke, but that's more a matter of attempting to regain his pride than any direct hate for your leadership. I imagine that most simply see it as they would any normal contract, only instead of direct payment they gain a stable place to squat and anything they can take in their battles."

The havocrel is clever. He knows the other Daedra well, their desires and hatreds. "I would give you an offer Xorvanis. Serve as my right hand within oblivion, and keep the Daedra in line. Recruit more if the opportunity arises and quell any attempts at disobedience. In exchange not only will you have my ear but I can assure you that you shall want for nothing." He waves his hand in the air, not cutting you off but stopping you from talking further. "As I said before, my heart does not beat for worthless trinkets of gold or magic, not for false praise or mortal souls either. It b eats for the thrill of combat, for the splitting of skull and breaking of bones. Guarantee me that and I will make sure these Daedra fall in line." With an offer like that, what can you do but say yes.

From there it's a simple matter. Well, simple for you, it takes some corralling by Xorvanis to gather the rest of the Daedra, to gather their names and abilities, to find where they'd be most effective by your judgement. Xorvanis also makes some efforts to recruit other Daedra to your slowly growing banner. It's a slow process, and you still would rather have Daedra of your creation, knights, or even mortals to fight for you, but these are the soldiers you have, so you shall make do.

+5 power in oblivion.

---

Damnable thing. Worthless trinket. This diadem sparks as much rancor within you as the thought of your fellow princes. Your attempts to create something innocuous as an artifact to send to the mortal realm has not progressed at all. if anything, what inspiration you might have had has been crushed by your failed attempts at creating a diadem. You had wanted to send it to Nirn, in the hopes of it being an enticing reward for servitude or a tool for Dyus to use, but creation was never your strong suit. Even this thing is not an original idea as it is nearly a parody of the masque of Clavicus Vile.

You are the grey prince, a term used to mock you but one you find accurate. You do not plot or devise tools to solver your problems, you take the straightforward path. Uncreative. Dull. Unoriginal. Boring. Boring! BORING!

You stop those intrusive thoughts there. A pang of something unfamiliar striking into your being. Fear? You compose yourself. You are not that thing any longer. You toss aside the pathetic string of crystals, tossing it into a portal to who knows where, so long as it is out of your sight it will be enough.

---

Dyus's attempts to build up the cult have continued smoothly. Smooth enough that he believes his presence among them shall soon be unneeded to keep it running. It now sports a good three dozen members from among the people of Winterhold, from many walks of life. Some even are among the guardians of the city, seeking your protection to keep order in the city. Perhaps not the same as your perfect order, but acceptable. Others are collegiates, sailors, scholars, or even beggars. Among them Dyus has some ideas on who should replace him as the leader of the group, taking on his place as not only your representative but also taking over the shop where Dyus had bound books and kept your library.

His replacement is to be a wood elf from the college, Lirwaen Undriel. She has little skill for the casting of spells but has an aptitude for the scholarly arts. She isn't satisfied merely being a scholar of the college however, with ambitions beyond it that she entered your cult in search of. While you wouldn't personally choose someone to lead who wasn't utterly devoted to you, Dyus believes that ambition will help the cult grow beyond what he can make of it. She still needs time to adapt to her new position however, and dyus will give her what advice he can before he returns to your side.

+5 faith.

---

What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one

[] Establish a relationship with the Falmer. These things cannot be considered truly sentient anymore, even their souls are corrupted by the Dwemers touch. However, you can't fix that without first seeing what you have to work with in depth. It may be difficult, but you've faced greater challenges. DC70

-you will attempt to forge a covenant with the Falmer, so that you might begin fixing them or converting them to your faith.

[] 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

[] 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.

[] A Gods Blessing. The mortals are an ever predictable lot. While some will follow you for your ideals, others need a nudge of incentive. Craft a blessing that Dyus might weave into a shrine to you to attract followers. DC55

-[] what shall your blessing do?

[] 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

[] Write in. up to qm discretion

---

What shall you do in your realm?

[] Creation. With the sword forgotten in the mad ones palace, you are bereft of an artifact to entrust onto a champion. 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 calulations 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
 
A Mad Pact
You know not how it came to you, and the idea fills you with disgust, but you have had a plan. A foolish and poorly thought out plan that you can only hope fails from the outset so you will not need to follow through on it. Currently Dyus is off for this first step, taken slightly early from the cult and seeking to establish an audience with the "Hero of Kvatch", assuming they have not been completely taken over by the mantle of Sheogorath. If you are lucky than Dyus will be rejected and sent back empty handed. If not, you shall meet this young god at a place you can both agree to. For now though you have work to do, and hopefully distract yourself with.

Once again you reach out and below the surface of Skyrim and its holds, searching for a conduit of your will that you might use to contact these Falmer. You start your search somewhat close to where you had left off with that one tribe, those that had cut off your attempts to make them see reason by destroying the stone you had used, hoping that they wouldn't regard you with that same fear as they had before. It takes some searching, a search that eventually leads you into a dwarvern hold now claimed by their former slaves.

You search eventually leads you into what you assume to be an orrery, with multiple models of heavenly bodies, Nirn at its center, Masser and Secunda in the sky, a large disk at the far edge representing magnus projecting light over it all. Nirn is made of brass, Masser from reddish bronze now covered in green corrosion from time gone unpolished, but Secunda, the lesser moon, was made of a large and unpolished diamond. The stone is rather cloudy, and would hold little value among men, but it does make it resemble the lesser moon more. For you, however, it is perfect. Encased within a Dwemer construction it should be durable, so any attempts to destroy it would be less successful than during your first attempt to convert the twisted Falmer, but it is also in a central location for this tribe, as evidenced by the huts and Falmer currently making use of the room.

Some are carving chitin shells into forms, either to make new huts or to be made into arms and armor. Others work with leather and hide, perhaps from wildlife captured from above ground or some burrowing creature that lives below. Simple creations, similar to those of early man and mer, but a sign that there's still some intelligence to them and they aren't simple beasts.

You wait for more to arrive, wanting your words to have as much reach as possible before you begin. You exert your will upon the stone of Secunda causing it to glow slightly, but more importantly let out a low hum for the blind Falmer to hear. The first reaction isn't promising, a sense of panic spreading among the Falmer as they drop tools to pick up weapons, but they soon calm as they inspect your catalyst. As soon as a decent enough crowd has formed, you speak.

"Hear me Falmer, and know that I am an ally. I am lord Jygglag, the prince of order, and I come to you with an offer." You wish you could simply demand their loyalty, it would make things easier for both yourself and them, but mortals are ever skittish and fearful things, so an offer shall serve you better than demands. The Falmer chitter and talk amongst themselves in their broken language, in which you hear them argue over whether you are a specter or monster. Eventually one among them, not a shaman or leader but one of their crafters who had been working at chitin earlier, steps forward against the wishes of the others.

"Tell us, ghost of the moon, what offer is this?" while others shy away from the group after this one speaks, none among them try to stop him, leaving him as the only member of the group to talk with you. Shorter than the average, wearing a long leather skirt stained by work with its hair bound behind its head by a chitin hair ring. "An offer that would let you reclaim the dignity stolen from you by Dwemer poisons and generations of abuse. To grant you back the sight that was taken from you. To reclaim your place among civilized mortals as more than just a monster to be hunted and slain."

"And the cost? We made a deal in desperation before, we will not accept just to be made slaves again." The Falmer is quick witted, quick with a response but not devolving into angered rebuttals as the shaman had in your first attempt. You don't respond for a moment, choosing your words carefully. "tell me your name craftsman. I would know with whom I'm speaking." "Varhis of the shellshapers." It says, not skipping a beat. "The payment for my aid, Varhis, and the tool by which it may be done is your faith, your worship. Without that I could not begin to undo what has been done. I shall not force you to hold no other gods beyond myself, nor to supplant your leadership with myself. In exchange I promise that your curse shall be undone in time.

I do not expect you to answer immediately. Take my proposal to whomever you deem necessary, and once you have found your answer return to this orrery where I shall be waiting." And with those words you allow the moon to dim signaling an end to the conversation, though you keep your attention upon the place. As soon as they believe you gone the Falmer erupt into noise, conversing and debating. Eventually they leave, leaving only a small group behind to keep an eye on the moon you had inhabited. It takes them a good few months to hear a response, and in all that time you have heard nothing from Dyus. You would worry were you not able to sense him, still there in the isles. If he had been under any spell or threat you would have known, so you can only assume your proposal has not yet been rejected.

One day, however, the Falmer return, and quite a few at that. Many among them are dressed in ceremonial garb if you had to guess, their leaders. Varhis is also among them, now wearing a shawl of some kind of hide from a short haired creature, perhaps an indicator of some role they now have him play or a reward for being the first so speak with you. Eventually they gather around the orrery, the supposed leaders at the front though flanked by guards and shamans, with Varhis at the very front.

"Ghost of the Moon who claims the name Jyggalag, the leaders of the falmeri tribes have come with an answer to your offer. Answer our call so that you might hear us!" Varhis says as the room grows quiet. There was no need for his dramatics but you will allow them. You enforce your will upon the gemstone moon once more, causing it to glow and hum once more. The guards and mages tighten their grip on arms and staffs, though it will prove unnecessary. "Then speak so that I may hear."

One of the leaders, armored in chitin and with a dwemer sword at its hip and female from their build, steps forward as Varhis retreats. "We shall allow you to work your magics, though they shall start only with the tribe of Mzin. You shall also grant us your protection from the nords who try to invade and the dwemak machines. If there are any lies or deceptions, then we shall destroy your stone, as the tribe of Rald has before." So they do remember your previous attempt to convert them. Very well. "Your threats are unnecessary and futile, but if those be your terms I shall accept them." You could simply move to another stone as you had before, but you shall allow them to feel as though they hold more sway in this agreement than they do if they agree to your worship.

The next few days involve you having this Mzin tribe build a proper place of worship around the orrery. Already you can feel their faith beginning to flow into you. it is different from that of the cult in Winterhold, just ever so slightly. It is more fervent, desperate for your promise to be true, whereas the Winterhold cult is more respectful, tempered. Soon enough the Mzin tribe has begun to hold weekly prayers to you for their protection and "resurrection". Now it falls to you to create the blessing that would undo their curse. It would be much the same as a regular blessing, though far more invasive to the Falmer. It would not be an immediate process, even once you have the blessing fully formed, as it would need to slowly rebuild the Falmers body's and minds to prevent them from breaking.

You are nearly ready to begin the creation of the Falmers blessing when you notice Dyus return. He steps over the threshold into your realms, enters your fortress, and makes his way to the chamber where you would build your court. He looks healthier now, skin no longer shrunken to his bones and frail as paper. He still appears aged, however, as he sports some wrinkles, and his hair now has some of its old luster back as well, though it is still fully white. You nearly fear to hear what he has to say, to hear Sheogoraths answer, but you ask anyway.

"Tell me Dyus, What response does the prince of madness have for my request?" You wish you hadn't asked. "he has agreed to meet with you, your grace. He does however request that you meet him at his palace within New Sheoth, as he cannot leave it for the time being. He has promised that so long as you are there for diplomatic purposes nothing ill shall befall you. He also requests that you take on a less fearsome guise, as the memory of the Greymarch still lives on in the minds of his people." You give a nod and tell Dyus "return to him and tell them I shall be there shortly." Dyus bows before leaving on his way back to the realm of madness. Better to be done with this quickly.

---

You take on an old semblance of yours from when you would walk the lands of man and mer. It is one that you had worn often as Sheogorath, of a nobleman, regal and dignified, though he dressed it as a fool, an entertainer. Sheogorath had let the hair grow gray, an attempt to seem older, more friendly, but you keep it dark, dressed in the clothing of a general, simple and sensible and not the gaudy, multicolored attire Sheogorath had. Your eyes, no matter how much you might try, however, stay pure white, almost like that of your obelisks of order. You doubt, however, that his subjects will have enough sense of mind to notice.

The trek to the isles is short, though each step is heavy and forced. You have no desire to see your home, twisted and corrupt as it now is, but you need to make allies. When you step over his threshold you take a moment to force yourself to look at it, to accept what it has become and that you can only move forward from here. It is overgrown, untamed, with wild daedroth and creatures of madness wherever you may look. You make your way to N ew Sheoth, across the roads of mania and dementia, through the frantic and winding streets as madmen run about, though thankfully they ignore you and avoid you for the most part. Then finally, with the eyes of saints and seducers upon you, you reach the palace.

You see Haskill, Sheogoraths chamberlain, standing at the doors to the palace, waiting for you. "Lord Jyggalag, it is wonderful to see you so soon after your last visit." His voice is tinged with sarcasm, barely breaking his ever neutral tone. You wonder if he sees you more as his old lord than the god who destroyed this realm so many times. "I have come to speak with Sheogorath. Open the doors and let us speak." You say unto the old man. "Have patience, you will. I must, however, make you aware of my lords current condition. Firstly, these doors are locked, with the entrances to the courts of mania and dementia blocked, barred, and welded shut, as he has no desire to have visitors. Not even the guards are allowed within. Secondly, my lord has been having…issues lately, unrelated to his attuning to his mantle. He may be difficult to talk with at times. Thirdly, I must ask you to not speak of any of this beyond this courtyard. Now, let me get the doors for you."

He raises his left hand till it is parallel to his head, and then with a snap of his fingers the doors slowly creak open. No lights are cast, no fires burn. You see a figure slumped forward in the throne before you, softly muttering. As you enter the doors beyond you close, and Sheogorath rises in his chair. He is not as he was. The man standing before you does not sport the face of the wizened old man he had been before the Greymarch, nor is it that of the hero who had defeated you. No, it is one of the many forms you once used to walk among men, the man you had first taken the form of when trying to instill order upon man, influencing them and having them implement laws to maintain order and civilization.

It's a younger man, Breton the people would call him now, his hair a light brown, a slim face, a well trimmed beard and moustache, the only difference from your original form being the golden eyes with slit pupils. The first face of Sheogorath. Theres mischief in the eyes, but its drowned out by a look of exhaustion, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Welcome, honored guest, to my hall. You must forgive the lack of red carpet and tables of exotic and screaming foods, but my minds been a bit split lately." There's something…off about them. More so than him simply being a growing god, but something beyond that that hurts to focus on.

"I trust Dyus has told you my purpose here?" you say, voice harsher than your intent. You would hope to not show any emotion in this talk, as much as you dislike every aspect of this. "He might've, btu id hear it in your own words if you'd grant me the pleasure." He says with a catlike grin, though the voice doesn't have much strength behind it. You find yourself frowning unbidden.

"I will be brief madman. We each have something the other needs. You have taken much of my power when you ended the Greymarch, but you lack experience. You have little idea how to be a Daedra and little more how to rule over parts of reality. I propose we aid each other, to protect the other from the machinations of the other princes, with me teaching you how to be a prince, and you returning unto me that which is mine." You let the offer hang in the air for a moment, waiting for a response, but what he says catches you off guard.

"While I imagine that could be very useful at the moment, I'm afraid I find myself of many differing minds and opinions about it. You'll need to give me time to converse with myself and come to a decision. On it and many other things, I'm afraid." There's a tiredness to the voice, the eyes seeming to flicker in and out of focus as he tries to look into your eyes. And you now notice it clearly. You focus your mind, look not just at the physical body but also the soul and notice how it flickers. It does not threaten to go out, but it continuously finds itself overlapped by many others, many souls and many minds in the same place. That's when you remember what was happening in Cyrodil at the moment.

"You are the center of a dragon break." The multiple flows of time, the many possibilities for what could have been, and who could have been the hero of the mortals and the one to take on the godly mantle, instead of just one being true, they all were. Each person that could have been that hero was, and all are now Sheogorath, struggling to coalesce into a single mind. "Is that the word for it? I worried my mind simply fractured upon taking the mantle." This tone is different now, as if one of the other fragments of possibility has taken over, more serious and morose though they may be delving into the aspect of dementia.

Now that you know what to think of, you notice that many parts of your memory no linger make sense. You remember an imperial entering the shivering isles, a nord slaying the foes in his path, a Khajit traipsing the lands, and a Breton slaying your avatar. Each one separate from the other, each one true. You find yourself pitying the mortals that found themselves here, but perhaps ending up as Sheogorath would be for the best, to prepare their mind for what madness awaits them should they fail to converge.

"Let me add an offer onto what I already have then. I shall do as I can to help you manage your many minds of madness, to forge them into one so that your only worry need be on the matters of a prince. Agree to my previous terms, of alliance and recompense, and you shall have my aid." To your frustration the prince is once again slow to answer as he debates with himself, quiet muttering coming from the god on his throne, though eventually a consensus is reached. "We would add our own terms as well to this pact." The voice is hoarser, gruff and deep.

"First, knowledge of our condition cannot be allowed outside this chamber. Neither that Sheogorath can't control his own madness, or that the hero of Cyrodil became a daedric prince. If the people of the empire were to hear that, or the princes learned of my weakness, I fear what the results would be. Second, you will move your realm closer. Not onto our doorstep, but neighbors so that we can more easily communicate and aid the other. That's something we can do, right?" With a silent nod from you he continues on. "Lastly, a good friend to at least some of us died to keep our kind out of Nirn. Not gonna betray his efforts just because were now one of the Daedra, at least most of us wont. So, not only do I expect no attempts to be made to breach the veil by us, I don't want our other brothers trying to copy Mehrunes really poorly thought out plan. I'm not going to ask you to go to war with them, just that you prevent any attempts. Are these terms acceptable?"


That he thinks he can negotiate is degrading. The worst part is that he is right. "I will accept, Sheogorath. And you had best grow used to the title. A mortal has no place among gods." A few chuckles escape the mad prince. "Oh don't worry, I've plenty experience with Daedra, I imagine we'll be just fine. Now please, leave me to my rest. I've a splitting headache and I know not if it comes from you or the voices." With the pact forged you leave the isles of madness, unsure if you made the right decision, but knowing the only path now is forward, bearing the weight of your choice.



A pact with Sheogorath is forged. The two of you will now work together and may make requests of the other (this wont cost an action). This can be to do an action on the others behalf, give their aid to an action, or to do whatever else it may be that you require. This goes both ways. As a part of the pact Sheo returns to you your sword and the grove of reflection. the grove comes with the tree of shades, which will start growing in Mytheria.

---

You lock yourself away in your writing chamber for some time after making the pact. You focus, solely on your writing and deductions, writing them down. You still only have a small frame of reference of the events that happened in your absence, but it will have to do. Time has little meaning in oblivion, but you write for months without end or interruption, looking at every variable you know to begin writing your chronicle. Every event, from every child born, to every man killed, to every flap of a Butterflys wings is recorded, their results listed, the odds weighed. The only writings with perhaps more information, the only ones capable of surpassing your wisdom, are the Elder Scrolls themselves, but yours don't cause the deterioration of the mind.

So far you are able to write your catalogue of the late Merithic era and its results on current events. You also are able to take stock of some of the major changes following your maddening. Firstly, the creation of a new prince, Malacath. Of course it was Boethiah that would do such a thing. Secondly, the dragon wars, you had wondered what had happened to them. The more you learn the more is revealed for you to learn about, but you have nothing but time.

+2% library progress.

---

Without Dyus there to guide them you had worried the cult may fall apart, but thankfully they've managed to stay intact, even grow some. While still not large enough for you to say there a major, or even minor, group within Winterhold, it has enough momentum that it should stay intact for some time without outside attempts to disrupt it. those guardsmen in the cult have managed to divert attention from the other guards away from them for the time being. Progress on a proper shrine to you has also come along well as they have managed to hire a sculptor to carve a sculpture on Rockjoint island. To be more appealing to the mortals you send unto them a visage of your mortal form you had used with Sheogorath. Better that than let them think of you as a monster as some of your kin revel in.

Of course, no progress can be made without new problems showing up. its not an immediate threat, but rather the threat posed by a recent trend among the mortals. Many knightly or holy orders have recently begun popping up through Nirn after your brothers failed attempts. The goals of many involve the hunting of Daedra and Daedra worshippers, though some also include the hunt of vampires, were beasts, liches, and other aberrations as part of their goals.

One such order has recently formed in Skyrim, the vigilant of Stendarr, and based some ways south in between Winterhold and Windhelm. Worse still is that their founding was funded by High King Harold Tallowhand, meaning not only do they have governmental support but far more wealth than your cult. They will need to be quiet in the coming months, but thankfully they have little interest in Winterhold at this time, and anybody they do send is more interested in the college than the poorer districts. Still, better to be safe than sorry, and you grant the crystals bearing your knights to Lirwaen Undriel, and she hands all but one of the crystals to your followers in the hopes they will not need them.

---

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 blessing of the Ice Elves: with the falmer now giving you their worship, you can begint he work to revert their forms to what they had been before their curse. It will not be simple, as your previous attempts to craft a blessing have proved, but the rewards far outweigh the challenge. DC85

[] 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.

[] A Gods Blessing. The mortals are an ever predictable lot. While some will follow you for your ideals, others need a nudge of incentive. Craft a blessing that Dyus might weave into a shrine to you to attract followers. DC55

-[] what shall your blessing do?

[] 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 calulations 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


[] The garden of order: in days long past this tree was different. From it grew the roots that bound your realm together, strengthening it and yourself. Now it is shriveled, shrunken, sad, a reflection of what your realm had become. It will be a long time before it can once again scratch the firmament, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't tend to it. Dc35


[] Write in. up to qm discretion
 
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Allies
Sheogorath, Daedric prince of madness

Relationship: cold

Titles: the hero of kvatch, the gentleman with a cane

Followers: madmen, artists

Domains: madness, creativity

Subdomains: art, the mind

Traits: Hero of two world. before he was sheogorath, they were the hero of cyrodil. the various pre dragonbreak heroes traveled the whole of it, meeting its peoples and learning from them. Sheogorath gains a +15 bonus to any interactions with the mortals.

Madness beyond Madness. Sheogorath is yet cursed with many minds from his time as heroes, not to mention the fact he is unexperienced as a god. sheogorath suffers a -10 to all rolls involving his godly nature.

Artifacts: the wabbajack

A hero who took on the mantle of the god you once were. Where you can trust him is to be seen, but you each need the others help
 
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Falmer, born anew
"Hold the magic blessing as it is madman, a just a little more and it will be perfect." You tell Sheogorath as the two of you are forging the blessing. As this is more than just an improvement of ones capabilities, the process is far more involved and complex, forming a matrix of divine power and magic that will instruct and empower the Falmers body to revert into their pre-betrayed forms. In-between you and the mad god is a series of overlapping ethereal lattices, a better visual representation of the blessing for the two of you to work on.

"Make sure you don't overdo anything Jyggy, wouldn't want your elves suddenly growing more eyes or growing elongated limbs, people think them monsters enough and I don't think they'd quite appreciate it." That annoying nickname again. You won't give him the satisfaction of airing your annoyance and telling him to stop. He does keep the blessing in place however while you give it the necessary finishing touches. Finally, your work is done. the blessing complete.

"There. You may release your hold Sheogorath, our work is done." But rather than do as you say, he looks towards the lattice, sweat glistening on a furrowed brow. "Really? That's it?" you can't control the sigh that escapes you. "Yes, that is it. Though any future blessings you forge should be-" You almost finish this short lesson on godhood for him but the fledgling prince interrupts you. "No no no, I mean sure it will turn them back and all that, but you really don't want do more than that?"

You are struck by confusion at his words. "What more is there to do? They shall return to their form from before the dwemers poisoned their sight and their years underground twisted their forms further." It seems obvious to you the work is done, but that isn't satisfactory to the Hero. "They are to be your people yes? I can't imagine you'd pour all this effort into them and then not want them to be the best you could make them. If this blessing is already going to change the form, why not improve it while you're at it?"

You are about to reprimand him, but you do give the lattice a look, just to see if there's any value to his words, and unfortunately you do see a way to improve it. mainly by implanting a minor version of the effect of your recently returned sword. It would not be as powerful, only letting them have brief glimpses of their futures, either in the near or far future, and you doubt they would have much control over it, but it would still give them a capacity for pre-cognition, a powerful thing. Rather than giving the prince a response you take hold of the concept of your blade in your mind, stripping away the aspects of the sword from it to leave only its ability's. From there you find ways to slot is various parts into the blessing.

"There, it is done. Now release your hold and I shall send it unto the Falmer." He doesn't hide his smugness at being right. "Of course, your princelyness." And with that his grasp on it loosens. You take that blessing onto yourself so that the Falmer who worship you can soon benefit from its effects. It will not be an immediate thing, you and the prince had quickly agreed that would cause enough pain and discourse among the Falmer that they might cut their ties to you. but over the coming months they should slowly retake their old forms.

And slow it is. Slowly, but surely, night after night, the forms of those Falmer within the Dwemer ruins they call Mzin change. Bones shift, skin heals, their noses return, but more important than all that is the return of their sight. The skin peels form their eyes as the vestigial organs regain function, slowly but surely, their irises taking on a bright white color. You even notice their eyes now have a slight light to them now, perhaps as a result of the addition you made to their natures.

Seeing the results, the improved health of the remade snow elves along with their improved intellect no longer tainted from years of poison and inbreeding, the many other tribes now fervently take to your worship. While some tribes, further on the fringes, refuse you, believing you just another soon to be betrayer, the rest slowly begin their healing. The problem, however, remains of their culture and habitats.

Their caves are no home for Mer, and aside from black reach they have little desire to stay in Dwemer holds. Some still wish to make war upon the Nords and even the Bretons to take their old lands, others leave on pilgrimages, seeking to find any old lands not yet claimed by man, and to perhaps find their old gods. Singular worship was never a demand for your aid, but it annoys you somewhat that some still cling to their old gods. One of them even seeks to take the diamond of Secunda, the gemstone you had used to originally contact them that they now use as a symbol of worship, to the resting place of their half remembered gods so you might properly join their pantheon. In the end you have what you wished for. A loyal species of Mer, who all worship you in some capacity.

-The Falmer, as a whole, have been gained as worshippers. Right now their civilization is still divided into tribes and clans, they have no true land to call their own, and they have not yet made their return to the lands of man and Mer, but they are yours. While some do worship you as their primary god, you are now in the Falmeri pantheon of gods. +40 faith.

---

The expansion of Mytheria does not go well. When you had set off to your own small corner of oblivion there were plenty of weaker neighbors for you to pick away at, slowly but surely expanding. Now, however, that you have shifted your plane to neighbor the shivering isles, you find yourself lacking in easily toppled regimes. Few Daedra would think to establish themselves near a prince for the very reasons you wish they were closer.

A thought hits you, was this the mad ones plan? To starve you of land to expand, to make you more reliant upon him and weaker still? You give it some thought for a moment but shake your head, clearing away the thoughts. No, he couldn't have come up with such a plot so quickly, not in his addled state. its just a consequence of the need for swift communication and aid. Still, it is frustrating. You do, however, have another option to expand mytheria.

---

The tree of shades, as the people of the isles call it, used to be something greater. It, and the runestone that once laid in the grove, were once used so you could judge those brought before you, fro crimes against your rule. Betrayers, thieves, saboteurs, all would have a shade of themselves created, an exact copy that could not lie so they could not attempt to trick their way out of their punishment. Those found innocent were given pardons and rewards in recompense. Those who were found guilty were hung from its branches, not allowed to die but left to suffer from their noose before becoming a part of the tree itself while their shade took their place within your realm.

It was more than that however, not just a means of punishment but also enrichment, its roots spreading all throughout your lands, strengthening all that lived within its reach, then spreading further beyond. It would grow into the wastes of oblivion, slowly claiming them for itself and yourself. Now look at it. a few blackened roots and a shriveled trunk. This will not do.

The tree and stone lay outside your fortress, behind it in a small grove you had formed for them. It would be some time before it would once again tower over all else, but you will give it the time it needs. You work to purify it of the rot inflicted upon it by the realm of chaos, by its myriad pests and pervasive nature. You cut away that which cannot be saved, destroying them so they could not further infest your realm. You plant your crystals around it so that it may draw upon their essence, to remember its true purpose that it once served. A beacon of order and its unending spread.

It takes time. Time and quite a bit of effort, but eventually it starts to resemble its old appearance. Patches of pure white start to break out from its blackened bark. Its roots begin to spread, some already reaching below your fortress now. The branches begin to regrow their leaves, clear and crystalline, a slight blue tint to them. You allow yourself some comfort, some nostalgia for what it once was, and vow to yourself that it shall be again.

The tree of order shall begin growing now. It will passively spread its roots, growing your realm and increasing your influence.

---

The cult of Winterhold now bears some greater influence than it had before. It now sports roughly a hundred followers within the city, and even a small amount without among the surrounding farms and villages. Some few bureaucrats also find themselves among your worshippers, often praying to you for stability in these troubled times. Its been over three years now since the fall of the Septim dynasty, and still no new emperor has been elected, chancellor Ocato and the elder council still failing to either find a new emperor or adjust how the empire is ruled.

With this lack of leadership many of the provinces, Skyrim included, have begun to take advantage. Some merely pay little of their taxes, especially among the nobility, others begin replacing imperial positions with people loyal to themselves. Others even begin to speak of secession from the empire, though thankfully most of them are laughed at or ignored, though the fact some feel free enough to say such things in public is worrying for your followers.

More important than the affairs of the empire, at least for your immediate interests, is how your cult is doing. In spite of the vigilants attempts, they remain unknown and are slowly spreading throughout the city. It finds quite a few new followers from a recent wave of immigration from Vvardenfell as many are trying to escape some new program that's been implemented by their rulers involving the meteor that hangs over their city. Strange, but beneficial for your cult.

The cult is now fully fledged, allowing you to have cult actions. +5 faith

With your level of faith you may now take on a new subdomain. Make your choice.

[] Law.

[] Civilization.

[] Wisdom

[] crystals

[] The Moon

[] write in

with your now firm establishment among both the citizens of Winterhold and with the Falmer, you have completed your goal of establishing your presence on Nirn. You may now select a new trait.

[] Crystalline sorceries: Your followers need more than a small group of knights to protect them. Create spells for them to use to do so.

[] Peace through order: some among the societies of man, Mer, and beast have a strong desire for peace, and will allow much to keep that peace. Groups already predisposed towards order will be more lenient towards you and your cult.

[] remove the gray prince negative trait

[] Write in

With your previous goal complete, its time to choose a new one.

[] take back the domain of natural order from Peryite.

[] take back what remains of your library from Hermaeus Mora

[] Help the Falmer become an accepted part of the world again

[] make your Cult legally allowed within the empire

[] write in
---

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 falmer are currently on a pilgrimage to resettle what few pieces of their culture remain. Many of these remain within the druadach mountains, a land that often changes hands between the nords, Bretons, reachman, and orcs. You may want to give them a bit of a hand. DC 40


[] 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.

[] A Gods Blessing. The mortals are an ever predictable lot. While some will follow you for your ideals, others need a nudge of incentive. Craft a blessing that Dyus might weave into a shrine to you to attract followers. DC55

-[] what shall your blessing do?

[] 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
 
The Promised Vale
You've noticed a change, not within your realm nor Nirn, no this change has been within you. with your recently renewed worship you anticipated there may be some changes to yourself as your worship takes a different form from that in the past. You aren't just the prince general leading the conquest of oblivion, nor the gray prince expecting for all to kneel before you, though those parts are and ever will be a part of you even if they are no longer as prevalent. Now, predominantly among the cult of Winterhold though some shamans of the Falmer also see you in this light, you are seen as a god of wisdom, a counterpart to your brother Hermaeus Mora as lord of knowledge and intellect.

You can't say that its incorrect to view you this way, though you wonder what changes it may bring about. faith alone can do little to change a god's nature, but when you have such large cults and civilizations that believe in you its hard not to become shaped by that. For example, Akatosh may be god of dragons and time, though his mastery of time is not absolute as proven by the presence of dragon breaks, for men, but among the elves and especially among the falmer he is Auri-el, god of the sun. Each one may act differently, think differently, and act differently were you to meet them, though you hope there is no need.

Would you undergo this shift in perception, wearing a different face depending on how you are worshipped? The idea displeases you, bringing to your mind the memories of a different name you once held, but you shake it from your mind. You are you, for better and worse. And while time allows you should be spending it on things of more import than this personal reflection.

The domain of wisdom has been gained. The gray prince trait has been lost.

---

The Falmer have lost much in their time below ground. Even with form and mind returned to them, they simply lack the knowledge needed to be a match for modern civilizations, not to mention the aspects of their culture gained and lost since their betrayal. The loss of the knowledge of metallurgy, of smithing, of architecture, of agriculture, all lost to the void of history. Even though they are naturally adapted for the lands they seek to return to, possessing an almost complete immunity to cold surpassing that of the Nords, without the knowledge to turn the land to their own means they shall not thrive, only survive in the ways they had before your gift, through raiding and desperation.

You cannot give them all that they need, but you can give them a start. You speak unto their shamans and priests and craftsman, tell them what you gather from your servants in Winterhold about the means of society, tell them of the tools they will need and of how they should be used. Picks, mines, smelters, shovels, rakes, hoes, and more. The knowledge alone, however, is little match for traditions and techniques, but for now it is what you can give them.

You teach them as they make their pilgrimage, their exodus, their return, while many stay behind in Blackreach. They cannot settle on what this journey of theirs truly is, and spirited arguing happens every night over it, sometimes devolving into duels as tempers burn hot, a tradition built from their time below ground. They still act much the same as they had before you remade them, savage and barbaric at times, many of their traditions now pale mimicry of that of the snow elves. Hopefully they will be able to overcome that past.

When they finally breach into the mountains, above ground for more than a raid in the first time in over a millennium, they are greeted by the sun breaking through the mists that cling to the cold mountaintops. Some see it as a sign from their gods they were not forgotten, joyful tears springing forth at what they see as a sign. They mark this place, where they see as a symbol of their new start, as a place to later build a wayshrine before continuing into the forgotten vale.

The land is covered in thick layers of snow and ice, hardy tress poking out from the snow mounds. Bits and pieces of their ancestor's architecture dotting the landscape. Animals roam the land, covered in strange natural markings that almost seem to glow. In the distance they see a structure, a building that still stands after long years of neglect, at the front of which stands a statue of Auri-el. Signs of battle can be seen, though they are old, not between snow elf and Nord, but between the snow elves and the Falmer. Some bits and pieces of Falmer structures, those made with chaurus hide and carapace, can be seen on the far edges of the vale, far from the temple, though no sign of the Falmer themselves can be seen. Not all answered the calls to be remade, but whether these Falmer remain cursed or not remains to be seen.

Camps are established, still of Falmeri style, though to prevent confusion they mark their homes with a paint made from the glowing plants of the local cave systems, giving them a glowing bluish tint, easy to make out in the dark. Small expeditions are sent to the chantry, though none can find a way in. they begin to make some use of the lessons you gave, trying to build more permanent housing for themselves beyond the camps, having some luck though they will not last long. They begin to work at gathering plants, where you instruct them on how to take the seeds and plant them, though they still need more staple crops. In the meantime they hunt the native animals, attempting to capture some for domestication, while others they take for pelts to try and make clothing.

It is meagre. Small, isolated, and in a precarious situation. It is far from any other people they could reach out to for aid or friendship. They know few of the necessities for being a settled people. But it is a start. A new beginning, a new age for the Falmer to once again feel the warmth of the sun and bask in its light, to raise their children to know more than the cramped caves where they thought they would be doomed to live and die in, to once again live and not just survive.

The Falmer now call the forgotten vale home once more.

---

You've taken the liberty of inviting yourself to the shivering isles after a long period of silence from the mad prince. You had a mind to request his help with the creation of an artifact, but you need to be sure he's of a mind to do so. You once again take on a mortal guise, walking through the streets of new sheoth, to the palace doors, ignore Haskills telling you to be patient while he gets his lord, and walk straight in. he isn't on his throne or hall, so you continue searching until you find him in a study of sorts. Torn paper lies scattered around, written in shakey hands that switches between the languages of man, mer, beast, and Daedra.

Sitting at a table in a chair damaged from presumably being thrown into a wall if the dent in the two is anything to go by, is Sheogorath. Sweat drips from his hair onto the paper they're writing on as he writes feverishly. It takes a moment for them to notice your presence, but when they do they throw on a fake smile, that of the courteous host. "Jyggy, what a wonderful surprise! I was just hoping that somebody would come to interrupt me unannounced in the midst of writing down such important things. Come, do you want tea, wine, the blood of my enemies?" he tries to walk past you, to lead you out of the study, but you instead move over to the desk and take a look at what he was writing.

"Theodor Draian, seventh son of House Draian of the kingdom of high rock, imprisoned by one of his fathers political enemies in Cyrodil. Fled the prison, seeking to enact revenge but instead found himself in the midst of an invasion of Daedra unto Nirn. I suppose this is one of the many minds that make up yourself?" the smile becomes more forced, hiding anger now. "You know, its awfully impolite to read an author's works before they're ready. But yes, Theodor. Wanted to be a big hero, and succeeded. Was a knight of the nine, perhaps the greatest honor one can hold, saved the world from the Daedric invasion, then ended up throwing that away and becoming a Daedric prince. Fun times."

You look at the desk and see many other pages, Derikesh the assassin, Sillanach the warrior, Azjiti, the spy, and many and more besides. "Are you attempting to chronicle your pasts?" "Oh and there's the prince of deduction, who else could have possibly figured out that. Though you're slightly off. I do intend to chronicle them and send them off to mundus with the princely bits cut off, but it's as much to separate out who did what. Causes a hells of a headache when one of us remembers doing something the other did."

You pick up the quill next that he dropped, some ink still fresh. "But when one of you starts to write the others start to add their details, defeating the purpose." A slow clap comes from the madman. "Bravo, now like I said I have treats and drinks aplenty to distract and relax, so let's get moving." He turns to leave but you hold the quill and open the book he had been writing in. "I could scribe for you. write down what you want to say without the other minds tripping you up."

Finally, he stops trying to leave, and turns back around with a much brighter smile filled with relief on his face. "Well who am I to say no to such an offer. I expect you to record it as accurate as you can, and I'll be sorely disappointed should anything be even the slightest bit out of place. Let's start with… hmm, let's say the Breton."

And so you help the prince right down the stories of his past, of those who became him, of the paths they walked, decisions they made, and who they were. Many had lives with goals left unfulfilled, with promises broken, with mistakes made. Others had triumphs, victories, and tales to tell aplenty. In total there was roughly thirteen of these minds altogether, with at least one of each of the major species. Some were mages or knights, thieves or assassins. Some deserved the prison they found themselves in, others did not.

By the end, once the thirteen books of the hero of Kvatch have been written, a process that takes a fair while, Sheogorath has lost much of the energy he once had, each of the souls making him up tired and pensive, now fully faced with the lives that have been lost to them. A copy of each book is made, one he intends to stow underneath his throne, the others placed throughout Nirn, where they are to be found by those dear to the individual minds or simply where their story can best be heard.

When you and Sheos work is done, you notice the quill you had written had become changed. Once it had been a simple thing, made of the feather of a swan from a lake within the realms of madness, but by your hands and the work put into it it has taken on new properties. The vane of the feather had slowly turned silver, though light reflects off of it in myriad colors, like light reflected off of oil, and the point had become slightly crystalline. The touch of two gods leaving their imprint.

You show it to the mad prince but he has little interest, worn as they are, so you take it for yourself. The intentions of the both of you has caused it to take on properties of those desires. The quill now writes precisely what your soul intends, to the letter. Even if you try to write a falsehood with it, your intention is written as well, your hand becoming subservient to the quill. As the mad one had little desire for it, you also decide to add on an extra piece, the only intentional part of this quill.

You pair it to one of the book shelves in the library and fill it with blank books. Then to test it you write upon a piece of stone 'I am Lord Jyggalag.'. you then return to the library and check within the first book, and there written upon it are the very same words. An artifact, unintentionally made but perhaps of great use.

Relations improved with sheogorath thanks to your help organizing his lives. Relations are now tepid.

The soulscribe Artifact has been made. any that write with it shall write precisely what their soul intends through any enchantment or sickness that may take hold of it. Anything written shall appear within the blank books of your library. It also doesn't run out of ink, very helpful.

---

The cult of Winterhold has hit something of a snag as tensions continue to rise in the city. Thanks to Dunmer immigration, whether staying in the city or moving on from there, as well as continued political stagnation, tensions are rising more and more in the cold city. You worry if this is all to grow further into the cataclysm you knew would spark the collapse, so you order the cult to be prepared. The guards are to keep an eye on the tensions between Nord and Dunmer, while the students pay attention to the college, waiting to see if some spell is cast.

What's worse is that you aren't the only one to notice the growing tensions as the local jarl has called upon the imperial legion in one of the nearby forts to help maintain the peace. The imperials have taken to the job with gusto, going above and far beyond what was requested of them according to the guards. They bring a heavy cudgel against any forms of disruption they see, gatherings too large, of too many people, and especially against the mages who they deem to inquisitive. This has resulted in the cult needing to forgo meetings and prayer for the time being.

---

The Falmer found someone. Well, to be more accurate they were found by someone. A snow elf, one from before the betrayal who calls themselves Gelebor. He had come to them, believing them to have been snow elves such as he who had escaped the Dwemers predations, but his tone changed when he heard their tale. He still treated them with respect, but he wasn't as elated as he had been, now somewhat melancholy. When you followers tried to ask him what he knew of the snow elves, to teach them of their long forgotten past, he suddenly found himself quiet on the subject, asking for time to think before he did so.

While it may have amounted to little In the end, learning one of the old elves still lived to this day filled your followers with yet more hope, and while he may be reluctant to speak, in time they hope he will tell them of their old stories and ways.

---

Overall things are going well for you for once. Not perfect, and of course some things may need some attention in the future, but overall you have a feeling of contentment you have not felt in some time. Perhaps you can take a moment to r- "Hey Jyggy!" oh you damnit. You look out the window of your keep towards the garden where a certain madman stands. He beckons you towards him with a movement of his hand before saying "Got something we need to talk about, needs your help." You let out an annoyed grumble before making your way outside.

"This had better be worth my time Sheogorath." You say sternly. "Oh no worries about it being worth our time friend." They're much more energetic than the last time you had met. He emphasizes the word our, equating their worth. "Got a message, a missive, whatever you'd like to call it from our dear brother Sanguine." The words are dragged out in a relaxed way. Faked, of course. He'd be a fool if he were….. "You're treating this carefully, I hope?" and with that the smile fades from his face.

"Of course I am. He sends a welcome back letter, asks to come have a drink in the ruins of new sheoth, have a game of wits, a whole little shindig. Why? From what memories of mine, the old me that is, that I can remember sanguine was never too close to me, so why now? If he had really wanted to have a welcome back party like he says it'd have been sooner. And while one of us was his champion before all this-" he says, both hands gesturing to himself "-I doubt he cares enough or realizes what happened."

The two of you are silent a moment, worrying. Neither of you wants to sat it, but one of the minds of Sheogorath gathers the will to do so. "Do you think he knows? That we became a prince and you were released?" you want to snap at him and say no, but you instead ask "How could he? You haven't talked to any of the other princes yet, have you?" he shakes his head. "Nah, we've been quiet, and until now they haven't really cared to speak with us."

Again there's a period of silence, one that he breaks. "We trick him, or try to at least. Give no sign that anything's different, that the Greymarch went as it was supposed to. He's expecting to drink among the ashes, so when he sees the isles as lively as ever, the truth would be obvious. So, we need to make the shivering isles a desolate wasteland. Problem is, I like how it currently is. So, I have a plan."

"No." his response to your immediate rejection is a smile he forces on his face. "Look, just hear it out before you dismiss it." "Why? Do you have enough control over yourself, mentally and divinely, to have a plan that can fool a god?" You say expecting to be dissapointed. "Yes actually, now still that sharp tongue before you cut yourself on it. The plan is simple. He wants a party in the ashes, we give him a party in the ashes. We make a plane, just a simple, small, and boring one, that way you will feel right at home making it. Fill it with ashes, a few bits and pieces of broken masonry, vegetation, a corpse or two, and you can plant a couple of your crystals wheresoever you like. I party with him a bit, drink whatever vile concoction he has, and send him off with a drunken smile."

You won't admit the plan isn't the worst you've heard. What you will say is all the flaws in it. "Do you think the prince of revelry is that simple minded. He's more clever then he lets on, even if he doesn't make use of it for more than petty amusements very often. How will he not notice that the entrance to the isles doesn't lead to the isles, or that whatever entrance you tell him to use isn't the right one. And more than that, how do you think you will react when face to face with a god."

A small bit of laughter comes out of that fake smile. "We have plenty of experience dealing with gods Jyggy, they don't scare us anymore. As for the rest, I simply tell him that this way is the quickest route to the place with the best view of desolation. And besides, for how much guff you've given over this plan, I haven't heard any better ones from you." You glare his way, your dislike of his tone obvious. "Here's one. Refuse him. Just because he is another prince does not mean you need to give him any courtesy."

The princeling raises his hands in frustration "The fact he is a prince is the exact reason I need to see him. We have to interact with them sooner than later, and if I'm hiding away in the palace for as long as possible they'll only grow suspicious. Better to make them think I'm just having a late start of returning to form. So, were going to do this. Not that you have a choice. I already sent a letter to him."

Of course he did. You let out a long sigh. "If this doesn't work you'll have made us putty in his hands. So you had better put your all into this." The crafting of the false plane over the isles isn't easy. Planes don't follow the laws of physics or thermodynamics, but there are some rules that do apply. Firstly, any planes close to one another will eventually form borderlands between them, not controlled by either ruler by taking traits of both lands. So, to keep up the ruse the plane needs to be made shortly before Sanguines arrival.

Thankfully, as Sheogorath said it would be a simple construction. Ash is simple, placing a few of your crystals around and ruined buildings is easy. The corpses prove tricky but apparently one of the madman's vassals has plenty to spare so they are tossed about the landscape. From there the two of you touch it up to make it believable, and Sheogorath sets up the meeting grounds. A Carpet from one of his finest weavers, a century old and given a bit of a tumble in the ashes to fit, a broken parapet for a table, burned flowers and shards of colored glass for decoration, and a broken version of his throne and the seat of one of his councilors the chairs. Food is laid out, whatever bits and pieces that are sacrificed to him to make a decent array of snacks, and a bucket filled with ice for whatever sanguine decides to bring. It's here that you leave, giving Sheogorath a few last words of advice.

"Like I've said, he's more clever than he lets on. He'll get you talking like he would any other drunk, and while you talk and talk and talk he learns more and more. So blather, talk without saying anything that means anything. You are not a hero of mortals, you are the prince of madness, embrace the mantle, fully or be made his fool." And with those words you step out of the realm, making your way to the far edges of oblivion where you will not be detected, and await Sheogoraths sign that sanguine has left.

---

'Alright, we've got our attire on yes?' speaks the Breton in the mind of Sheogorath. 'Aye, gold brocade tunic, red and purple jerkin over top, dark pants and boots, and a hat' says the Redguard. 'I've told you so many times, no hat! it makes us look horrible.' Says the Argonian. None of them truly speak, the thoughts make themselves known whether you want to hear them or not. The arguing continues over whether or not the hat stays until the Khajit throws it away to end the argument. Its at that moment that he shows up.

His portal opens at the far end of the table, and stepping out is lord sanguine. The form he takes is stockier, slightly on the shorter side, body covered in thick and dark hair. He wears a loose robe, hung from one shoulder, and little else but a pair of sandals and a simple rope as a belt. The hair on his head is as dark and thick as everywhere else on his body, but curly and short, exposing two short horns protruding from his head. A similarly short and thick beard covers his face, but doing little to hide the mischievous smile on his face nor the twinkle in his eyes.

He holds a bottle, glass a dark green without any labels with the cork held down by wax, in his off hand, the other scratching at his chest. "Sheogorath in the flesh! Been a little quiet lately though I'm thankful you accepted my request so readily. I must say, I love what you've done with the place, truly I do, perfect for a celebration." 'Okay we need to get our shit together, stop arguing and talk' says the Khajit in their mind. "Well hello to you to Sanguine, and thank you for the compliment on our décor, I worked so very hard on it and it feels nice to be recognized for it."

"I can only imagine it's taken a load out of you, but don't you worry, I've just the spirit to raise your own. I'll fill ourselves some cups, you just take yourself a seat." While the mad ones do just that the prince of debauchery takes two of the golden mugs, one with a slight cut on the edge, and fills them with the contents of his bottle. The liquor is dark, and a thick, fruity smell cuts through the scent of ashes in the air. He hands the cut cup to his drinking partner and takes the other, along with the bottle and a platter of snacks, to the other.

"Go on, take a drink and tell me what you think." With the request they can do naught but comply, so they lift the cup, give a salute to their guest, and take a sip. Its not a large amount, but it nearly knocks out the prince. Their senses are assaulted on every end. A sense of euphoria, followed by dread, then a moment of calm within this storm before recovering. Over the drink they can hear deep laughter, straight from the belly, coming from sanguine.

"Oh ho ho, either I've become a better brewer or you've become a worse drinker. Ill take the reaction as a compliment either way!" he says as laughter escapes him only to be drowned as he downs his own drink in a single go, refilling his cup the moment after. "I admit, I wasn't prepared for that. You said you made it yourself? What for, if you don't mind me asking? I might give it a shot myself, see what I can come up with." the prince of madness says, trying to regain some composure.

"Oh just a little of this and that, grapes mostly though I also threw in some sweet berries. The important part was the quality of the ingredients you see. Carved out vineyards back home, forced some of the party goers to tend to them. The grapes used for this particular bottle were special however. Y'see, last time you lost yourself, I popped in over here and grabbed myself some of the ashes, mixed it into the soil. The fear, the hate, the raw emotions that were captured in the ash were so strong I just knew I had to grab a handful. I had planned to ask this time around since you weren't really doing much with them, but I've gotta say, it just seems to lack that same level of raw emotion as last time. Did you not go as hard on wrecking the place as before or were the people just drab and boring?"

'He knows' 'He doesn't know' 'We don't know what he knows, just stay calm' the voices argue before Sheogorath says "Afraid your wrong on both accounts. You see, I brought my champion here to try and stop the whole thing, but that failed and he is now just another of the corpses, that corpse over there actually." Sheogorath says before throwing an apple core at the corpse he claimed to be his former champion, striking it in the head. "He did soften the blow a little, but not near enough. Next time this all goes down though, ill promise you a mountain of ashes for that garden, but only if you promise me another bottle of that, and perhaps a few of the grapes and other produce." Sheogorath says with a smile.

"Hah! Cant say no to an offer like that. I'll be holding you to it. Now, what's say we spice up this picnic, eh?" the god of wine says, now on his fourth cup, as he pulls out a deck of cards. "A simple enough card game, just something for fun, no stakes included." And with that the princes start a couple hands while enjoying their food and wine. After some time into of the game however, sanguine changes the conversation.

"So, gotta ask, any of our old buddy Jyggalag still rattling around in that head of yours?" sanguine says, looking at his hand of cards. He's nearly emptied the bottle at this point, now drinking straight from it. "Bits and pieces unfortunately. Really hoped he'd be gone this go around but it is what it is." Sheo says trying to hold back any potential sign of emotion from the Daedra. "Iunno, seems you did a pretty good job, can hardly smell his stink on you, so id say you might be rid of that boring, stony faced prick next go around. Oh, by the way, I win." He says as he lays down a perfect hand of cards.

The mad ones laugh before saying "Id ask you to tell me how you do that, but I fear what the cost may be." This makes sanguine chuckle some as well. "Id be more than happy to tell you the cost. Itd' be the answer to a question of my own. Why're you wearing that face?" his smile shrinks, now less raucous and more cunning. "You haven't used that face in ages, using that doddering old man act more than ever. You said before it reminded you too much of Jyggalag, but now you wear it proud. Why is that?" his words are stripped of any of the slurred speech from before.

The heroes of kvatch struggle to throw together an answer, eventually ending up with "I merely thought to try something I haven't in a while. The old face was growing a touch boring you see, so I thought id step into something older and slightly uncomfortable, spice things up. Now if you'd be so kind, do show me the trick." They say it confidently and nonchalantly, but each if the minds wait with breath they don't need to hold, waiting for the answer. Theres silence for a moment before the lord of revels lets out another deep belly laugh. "The trick is simple, you need only bring your own deck. Mark the cards however you like, and you can win any game you desire. Now, this has been fun, but were dangerously low on wine, and you don't want to see me sober, it's a ghastly thing. So, ta ta, and have fun cleaning up your mess." He gathers up his cards, drinks the last of his bottle, then what remains in your cup, and teleports away to the myriad realms.

The prince of madness lets out a long held breath, letting go of the stress of the meeting. Did he know the truth, they cant help but wonder. They wander away from the picnic grounds, snatching up the hat that had been tossed away, then fall back onto the ashes. With a snap of their fingers the false plane disappears, leaving them to freefall back into the shivering isles, crashing right through the roof and falling onto their throne.

---

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.

[] A Gods Blessing. The mortals are an ever predictable lot. While some will follow you for your ideals, others need a nudge of incentive. Craft a blessing that your priest might weave into a shrine to you to attract followers. DC55

-[] what shall your blessing do?

[] write in. up to qm discretion

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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?

[] A heart of order: Every prince has at least one Daedra, created by their own hand. You, however, could never make one as ordinary Daedra were antithetical to your nature. The closest you could get were your knights, humans who burned up their soul to empower themselves to serve you. now, however, you might be able to make something of your own with a true spark of life. Dc80

-feel free to describe what you want them to be, otherwise the qm will design them

[] 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
 
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