Well Caerlan, things are going just swell aren't they? Many tribes in the lower caverns keep finding themselves in minor skirmishes with each other. Agtan wants you to march on them and reestablish order. A troupe of frost giants had recently come through the vale, claiming they wanted recompense for the intrusion on land that was once theirs. Youd be offended were their demands not as simple as they were. Permission to freely travel through the vale and the right to purchase supplies from Nchandfell, but how they would pay was still being argued. The council meanwhile are falling into factions over a proposed new colony further south, hoping the warmer climes will let farmlands be established but neither agreeing over what should be grown, food or cash crops. You half expect they're joining this argument so they can postpone the more delicate debates a moment longer.
You technically have the authority to demand they stop and follow your will, but that would set a bad precedent. The lands of the Falmer need to be able to live and thrive on their own without you interfering in every problem. That was the entire point of the council and they'd done that job well until recently. These and a host of other small problems have grown into a mountain in your path, one keeping you from your studies and research.
You push open the door to your chambers in Blackreach, ready to collapse onto your bed of stone, hides, and cotton padding. You had paid through the nose for these things but you'd do it again in a heartbeat. How the Dwemer or your own people grew accustomed to sleeping on stones you will never understand. You stumble towards it in the dark only to find a new obstacle in your way. Youd be more cautious of what it was but right now you can only groan and fumble towards an oil lamp. A quick spell and you have just enough light to see someone has gifted you new furniture. Joy.
Looking over it, it seems incredibly well made if far too big for the confines of your room. How they even got this through the door you have no idea. You almost think its top is made from some kind of stone with how smooth it looks, marble or something, but when you brush your hand against it the surface is displaced, what you now realize is sand moving under your touch. What kind of useless damn table is made from sand?
When your hand is lifted from the sand however it begins to shift on its own. It starts moving slowly, like dust kicked up when entering an unused chamber, but it grows faster, the fine grains flowing like sand as it takes on shapes you recognized, the shapes of the buildings of the Falmer, showing incredibly detailed depictions of these lands, even showing the movement of people within the Falmer lands though in very little detail. You can even see yourself when you scratch away the sand walls of your home.
You circle the table, taking in every detail of what was happening, when you notice a small note left on the corner. Written on it it says "This is the gods eye. It will grant you supreme oversight of the lands under your control. Use it well or it will be taken back." curt, but the words are followed by instructions on how to use the table, how to focus on only one city or even a single person, how to have the table write information about what its focused on though the information is somewhat basic. It must be a gift from one of the gods, and given the letters tone you can only imagine that god is Lord Jyggalag. This would go a great deal to help you in your current and future problems. You only wonder how you're going to get it to the council chambers.
The Falmer will be expanding a good deal faster now.
---
With only a wave of your hand the soulscribe disappears from Mytheria, flitting down to Nirn where you leave it be for a moment of your time. In that time a handful of months pass on Nirn, where the quill has no doubt seen some travel and use. When you turn your gaze back towards it, you see it mixed in with various other items being delivered to the imperial palace in Cyrodil. It's a challenge for you to enter the palace, even when just looking, thanks to the firmament and nature of the tower as a conduit of one of the earth bones but you can focus on the quill itself enough to still see. This delivery is brought within its walls as the various other deliverys are transported around to wherever they need to go, exotic foods taken to the kitchens, whetstones and oil taken to the guards, incenses and candles taken just about everywhere.
The quill, along with various other writing implements such as charcoal sticks and rough pumice stones used to scrape away mistakes, is taken straight upwards. At first you thought that it may end up in the potentates own hands, but they stop instead at roughly the middle of the tower, where you feel a pang of disappointment. A pang that is soon forgotten as you see this has gone better than you could have imagined, and you find an unbidden laugh escape you.
The quill is taken into the imperial library, where moth priests hurry to and fro, escorting older priests whose eyes have been scorched by the elder scrolls. A cylindrical repository dominates the center of the room with various nooks housing more elder scrolls than you have seen in one place, more than you ever held in your library and likely more than even Hermeaus mora has held. Young initiates write down the words recited by the senior priests, writing down the exact words taken from the scroll at this time as well as interpretations made by the priests.
The elder scrolls were a strange thing. They existed since the dawn of existence, glimpses upon all of reality, bearing something similar yet so very different from all Anuic or Padomeic beings, not alive yet changing and adapting at will. They reflect realities possibilities, and any events within them may change up until the moment that event truly occurs. To have your quill here, among the priests actively working to decipher them, to understand them, and to have those understandings flow back to you unimpeded?
Laughter continues to escape you at the sheer chance of this happening, at how perfectly this went when you hadn't put in more effort than dropping it upon Nirn. You continue to chuckle as you look away from the library on Nirn and move towards your own. You crack open the first of the books set aside for the quill, and soon enough words start to ink themselves upon the pages, a prophecy of an invasion from the south by the sea elves in some fifty years. You close the book back and allow yourself to sit and relax for a moment in one of the chairs, a smile on your face.
So long as the soulscribe is within the imperial library you will passively gain 2% library progress a turn. Potential to gain new prophecies.
You were in such a good mood you decided to look in on your champions. You needed something to ground you back to reality after all, and the failings of mortals always had a way to disappoint you. Joy, pleasure, satisfaction, they had a way of blinding you to the greater picture, finding satisfaction in the present weakening necessary resolve in the future. Though it seems you are allowed to indulge just a bit longer as the two manage to succeed with flying colors, each in their own way.
---
It had been difficult getting here for you Kasur. You find yourself sitting at a long table of elven reeves and nobles, having talked your way into this alliance against the thalmor. You had to rely on nothing but your skill with words, and even then, you were more accustomed to speaking with soldiers and warriors, not bureaucrats, scholars, and nobles. Still, you managed to convince them of your desire and capability to aid in their efforts against the thalmors' growing influence among their government. Officially its nothing more than a gathering of friends, as subtlety is needed as a shield from the thalmor, though none seem to quite like each other.
"The thalmor are still our people, Jermir. Exile is unacceptable, much less this plan of butchery you have. We need to convince the queen that they must be reigned in, maybe shackled for the leaders, but we cannot kill our own." Highreeve Vandalion says. She stares daggers at Jermir, a Jurisreeve and the elf who had sponsored your inclusion. You had done a few jobs for him as a mercenary where you had learned of his ties to this cabal. He looks coldly back towards the Highreeve, showing little respect for the difference in rank, as he has said all are equal while plotting together.
"What high moral standing you have there Vandalion, so inspirational and godly. Perhaps you might convince the thalmor to do the same? Or do you still think the bodies of their enemies that keep turning up are mere coincidence, that this serial killer just so happens to hold the same political agenda as the thalmor by happenstance? We are at war with them, and your high minded preaching will give them all the time they need to stab us in the back." he says, slumping back into his chair and downing a goblet of some rosy wine.
They claim to be united against the thalmor, but you've heard little more than bickering between them without any solid plans. It reminded you of when your commanders couldn't agree on a plan of attack. The results were always bloody when that happened. They needed to be unified, and none of them seemed willing to do so. You steel your nerves and speak.
"This arguing will get us nowhere. We need to have a plan, any plan, or this cabal is merely a gathering ground for arguments and debate of the soon to be enemies of the state." a portion of the table, those who had been disinclined towards your inclusion, even some who had allowed it, shot looks meant to stifle and quiet directly at you, but you didn't let them affect you and kept talking. "Killing off every thalmor simply isn't possible, not with our numbers or how spread out they are on the isles, but Jermir isn't wrong. As distasteful as it is some of the thalmor need to be culled, the ones with power or influence."
"And I see that Jermirs little mercenary suddenly knows so much about our politics. Congrats Jermir, you trained him well." a stern elf, a soldier or guard from the looks of him though you didn't know his name, says loudly in a mocking tone. "And you as ever are like an untrained dog Karadin, barking when it should be silent." Jermir says, rising to the bait. The two start arguing, then more join in trying to talk over each other, and you slam your fist down. The metal of the gauntlet against the gilded and lacquered wood quiets them all as they look towards you, annoyed expressions on their faces.
"Are we our own enemies or are the thalmor? Decide that before you deign to speak again. As I said, some among the thalmor must die. The rest must be broken, disheartened, and their reputation tarnished so no more flock to that banner of theirs. I believe I have the person for that job. Already she hunts down their grunts, taking what intelligence she can from them. If you all can give her the right opportunity's she can cut the heads from this hydra, one by one." you were exaggerating somewhat. Nael was no assassin, not yet at least, but she had the potential, far more than you did for this kind of dishonorable work. You can only help if the Altmer agreed to her aid.
---
You crush the pommel of this sword, umbra, into the side of this Thalmor Lackie's jaw. You had been trying to hit the temple, because Kasur had told you it was a good way to stun someone, but you feel satisfied with the crunch you feel anyway. The rain around you muffles the sound of this back alley skirmish, though it makes the stones beneath your feet slick, unsteady. Thankfully you were used to dirty fights like this, and the Thalmor wasn't.
He had been heading home, trading out dark robes for an equally gaudy shirt and britches, though he had kept the sword at his side. He'd been flashing it to anyone who got in his way like an ass. The perks of being a politician, being able to act like a nonce and see no consequences, at least until tonight. He cradles his jaw with his off hand, a dizzied swing of his sword easily brushed to the side. Kasur was right, you were a natural with this thing. He had shown you everything he could about swordsmanship then taken you to a better trainer, a friend of his which he seemed to have or make plenty of no matter where he went. Lucky guy. When you had tried to find your old friends, you found most had died, fled, or simply didn't care you had returned, the pricks.
Another poorly aimed swing, this time with you blocking the swing and shoving forward, knocking the elf back against the grimy wall. You'd been stalking this one for some days. Apparently he thought himself a key lynchpin of their plotting when he was little more than a courier. A courier of important things of course, if it had been anything else you wouldn't have bothered with him, but still only a courier. He had left the college of Sapiarchs holding many parcels and even a small chest, so you decided now was as good a time as any to jump him.
A thrust of his sword from where he lies on the ground this time. You stomp it down, driving the thrust into the ground where your boot keeps it from being pulled out. Your other foot then gives the elf a much needed kick in the teeth, knocking his head back into the bricks. You don't think you had actually thanked kasur for the boots, or the whole rest of your outfit. Youll need to remember to do that next you see him.
You kneel down in front of him, smashing your pommel against his wrist until he lets go of the sword, then pick it up and throw it far from his reach. Then you rest umbras edge against the bastards throat. "Tell me who the letters are for, who sent them, and what's in them. Talk before my hand slips." your words are calm, relaxed even. Why wouldn't they be, you held all the power here, and with the downpour no one was likely to see or hear what you were doing. You're almost disappointed by how quickly he starts talking, you only had to draw a little blood from his neck.
"Emring, it was Emring! He told me to deliver these to a dead drop outside the city, by a reservoir near the Marniell estate, with a red post with a birdhouse at its top. Now please, let me g-NGH." you cut him off with a swift knee to the face. "Bastard, you're supposed to resist at least a little! Do you really have that little loyalty that this is all it took to get the information from you? Weakling." you say, disgusted by this sniveling coward. They kept you captive for years and you never talked, and this is the best they can do themselves?
You grab some of the letters from the ground, their waxed envelopes keeping them dry, and tuck them away into your jacket. Then, with umbra still pointed towards the coward, you crack open the box, and its contents disgust you. Inside is a heart, pale from lack of blood, a dagger, and a nightshade flower. A letter is tucked in with them, already getting struck by drops of rain. You open it, trying to figure out what it says, but being only half literate you can't make out much of it, though it looks kind of like a poem. Written underneath it in another hand is more words you can't make out, though they look important.
You grab the letter, close the box, and return to the coward, shoving the letter in his face. "Read it." you order him. He begins to look at it, his expression one confused and shocked. Damned fool. A slap to his face and another order is given. "Out loud." he shakily nods his head and begins speaking. "Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear. The script added underneath commands the packages recipient to perform a ritual involving the contents of the package and await a member of the dark brotherhood to arrive. From there he is to request of them to slay Potentate Ocato of the imperial council."
You let the words settle for a moment. You knew little of politics but even you knew who that guy was, defacto ruler of the empire if anyone respected him. And everyone knows the dark brotherhood, whether you think they're real or a horror story to be told around fires. Apparently the thalmor thought them real enough and good enough to go after the guy in the worlds most protected place. You stab your blade into the thalmor's chest, surprising him if the way he doesn't resist is anything to go by, and twist the blade. You grab the letter back from his dying hands and place it back into the chest. You then gather the other letters and proceed to do a thorough job of looting the body. The coin and knick knacks you take are nice, but the purpose is to make this look like a mugging, not anything targeted, a lesson you were taught ages ago by some old vagabond.
With loot in hand you flee into the night towards your meeting place with Kasur, items tucked into your new cloak, Still nice despite the hole in the back. You'd let him show these to the politicians, he had a better head for dealing with them. Then, you'd make sure to get him something nice as a thank you, you certainly had the coin now.
Kasur has gained himself allies among the anti thalmor members of the altmer government. Nael has discovered their plans to send a dark brotherhood assassin to kill the potentate.
---
Something dangerously approaching pride in your mortal champions starts to grow in your chest, so you turn your thoughts from them to preparation for your soon to be gathering of your allies. You needed to introduce Sotha Sil and Sheogorath to each other, to be sure they know and can work with each other. Sothas's last alliance ended poorly and Sheogorath is Sheogorath so you needed to be sure. You also intended for them to help you with one of your projects, so it served as a good way of killing two birds with one stone.
Sotha is of course the first to arrive. You had expected as much. The machine god likely has everything in his existence timed down to the second. Existence, not life. Nobody could honestly call him alive when they looked upon him. A towering machine, an intricate approximation of a living body but the steel skin and inflexible plates sliding over each other could never be mistaken for something alive. He is almost like a lich, though you imagine no mortals would be able to accomplish this on their own.
"Jyggalag." He says, looming at the doorway of your fortress. The trees growth had slightly uprooted it, dragging it upwards somewhat, as well as growing around it, so a large stairway had been built up towards your door. Whether he climbed all those stairs himself or simply willed himself to be at the door, a slight boon you had allowed him and Sheogorath when they arrived to make communication easier, you did not know. "Sotha. Are you prepared to design this creature?" he enters, bowing his head to fit through the door. "I would be more prepared if you would explain what you plan more. You've mentioned a third party but not their name or purpose, nor have you explained the role these creatures are to play within your realm or armies."
"You'll know soon enough who the third party in this endeavor is. As for the creature it is meant to be an intermediary force in-between my pawns and knights. I've only gained three knights since my return, and the pawns are meant to serve many roles as needed while having independent thought and ability to plan. This wouldn't be an intelligent creature, and it would need be something created more reliably than the knight, though it would likely not be capable of the knights great strength."
"Hmm." is the only sound that escapes the machine as he pulls out a few rolls of parchment and a pen, made to fit the larger hands of his frame while still writing in a fine script. "Have you considered something similar to cavalry? Both your knights and pawns lack speed and an ability to flank, and they would also serve as messengers or couriers outside of battle." he says as he begins drawing out a few designs. "That could serve me well, though I'd wait for my other guests before settling on anything concrete."
The two of you then wait in the foyer, waiting on Sheogorath to arrive. You had wanted to talk more with Sotha Sil, but once talk of the creature was done you found you could think of little to talk about. Small talk was not your forte, and before Sheo had done more than enough talking for the both of you in your previous attempts to ingratiate yourself with an ally. You almost think you have something worth saying when suddenly the door is pushed open.
In the frame a panting and sweat stained sheogorath sucks down air, something he has no real need to do anymore but those mortal parts of his brain still thought to do. "Jyggy, why oh why did you add so many stairs?! Are you trying to kill me? Because you're damned close." he doesn't bother to close the door behind him, something you do with just a bit of will, and collapses into a chair opposite Sotha Sil. It's a moment before he looks up and seems to notice the machine for the first time. "When did you get an automaton?"
"I am no automaton, daedra." Unamused, Sotha glares at Sheogorath for the comment, then turns towards you. "I wouldn't have thought the rumor true Jyggalag, that you've allied yourself with your own broken form. Is he truly who we've waited on to arrive?" You suppose even a god of the dunmer still shared their beliefs, that the mad prince was a nuisance at best and a parasite at worst, but he needed to ignore these superstitions, and even his own experiences with the previous Sheogoarth. "He has been an ally longer than you, and the three of us could do greater things allied together than we could ever hope alone. I would like to prove this with our creation of this creature. Now, if you have no wish to aid us you have the right to leave, but I wouldn't have this alliance weakened from the beginning."
Sotha grumbles, or at least gives off a rumbling within his chest that amounts to the same thing, but doesn't leave. You then turn to sheogorath and introduce the machine god. "This, Sheogorath, is Sotha Sil, what remains of him after he reanimated himself with a false heart of Lorkhan and dwemer artifacts." Sheo gives out a low and slow whistle before saying. "We've heard of you and those shiny toys. Heard your last alliance ended poorly. Can only hope we don't meet the same fate."
"Now, if you are pleased with introductions let us get to work. Sotha has already drawn out a few potential designs but I'd have your opinion as well." The mad god gets up at your words, showing none of the exaggerated exhaustion he had put on a moment before, and throws the purple tunic he was wearing onto one of the unlit sconces in the room, striding over to where Sotha had laid out his work. He cups his chin as he leans over them, squinting at the designs.
"They're well drawn, and having something fast and agile is a godsend on any battlefield, but they're not exactly sticking to your theme." You ignore the moment of lucidity and tactical acumen he showed, perhaps a remnant of one of the personalities still not fully merged, and focus on the last part. Sotha, however, speaks first. "What theme are you talking about? I've taken consideration towards his natural affiliation with crystal already as shown with th-" "No, no, not that. I mean the chess thing you had going Jyggy. You named your little guys pawns, the big ones knights, you were going for a thing there right?"
Sothas looking at you with as confused a look on his face as he can muster though you can't say you aren't just as confused. "If there was any theme established it was not intentional, I can assure you." Sheo looks surprised a moment but then shrugs his shoulders. "Well, I still say we continue the theme. Youd be surprised what that sort of thing can do for an army, gives em a real sense of unity even when they haven't much in the way of sense. Knights already taken, but you're in luck. Rook is an old Akaaviri word for chariot, and that's what the piece originally was back when the empire still used the blimey things outside of arenas. Wish they'd bring those back honestly."
"They were phased out due to being less useful in many of the provinces, from the swamps of Blackmarsh to the snow-laden fields of Skyrim. They're a relic of the past, but if you feel so strongly about it we can refer to them as rooks. Id argue for riders instead. There's plenty of horses native to oblivion, not quite daedra themselves, but they could be bound to riders. They'd merely need summon them when necessary or dispel them when not." at that you raise a brow. "Magic? I had no intention of giving these things souls, so that wouldn't be viable."
At that Sotha shakes his head. "Not necessarily. It'd be closer to an enchantment than a spell, and while I agree these shouldn't have a intelligent soul, we can give them lesser ones. White souls rather than black. The tree of yours should be able to provide them." you think on it a moment before nodding your head. "That would work. Any further suggestions before we begin?" with no response given, you lead the three to the roof.
---
The process was more involved than that of creating the pawns. The three of you had to constantly reapproach the design over the course of mortal weeks fixing one aspect or adding something new. Many times the creature comes out flawed and needs to be put down for its own good, but eventually you have something Worth the effort.
Its larger than the pawns, though not towering like the knights. Its body is lean and sinewy, as well as a silvery bluish color, and it carries itself well enough, but once in a saddle it rides like it was born there. Even more impressive is its strength on horse back. When it can properly charge and with a thrust of a spear or lance or whatever else they may have the strength of the blow is comparable to, and sometimes exceeding, that of your knights. Give them the right armor and weapon and they're a force to be reckoned with, be it bow or blade. Though, according to Sheogorath, they didn't do much to inspire awe or confidence to look at.
Not because they weren't fearsome. If anything its because they were too fearsome, unintentionally so. In an effort to improve their speed Sotha did what he could to make them more aerodynamic. In so doing he made the head and face of the creature almost entirely featureless, smooth and shaped almost like a helmet, something sheo 'fixed' by throwing a thin black mesh over the head. It worked well enough, and their aesthetics mattered little despite Sheos protests otherwise. But now, you have your rooks. More important than that however, you have proved the three of you can work together.
You now have Rooks as a creature of yours, master riders, couriers, and cavalry.
---
With the work done and your allies gone, you allow yourself to rest. Other divine beings are tiresome to deal with, unable to simply remind them of their place as you would a mortal. You allow yourself to rest, for just a moment, in a small chair within the library of your fortress. You close your eyes and listen in on the noise around you. Wind blowing through the leaves of your tree. Distant chatter from the pawns and knights guarding your fortress. The soft and distant cawing of crows.
Crows? You jolt up from the chair, sword already in your hand, and there she is. Lady of shadows, the shadow queen, Ur-dra, eldest of the daedra. Nocturnal. "Please Jyggalag, do sit back down. You had almost seemed content for a moment, and even I couldn't steal something so precious from you." her smile is more a sneer. Shes toying with you. You scan her, seeing if there's anything on her person she may have robbed from you, though you notice nothing and what little her robes cover wouldn't be enough to hide something important.
"What has brought you here, shadow thief?" The name amuses her judging by her eyes. "I forget how long you've been gone. I haven't been called that in eons, I'd almost forgotten it. Though I suppose it is easy to forget you Jyggalag. I only wish I had no need to remember you still." you don't allow yourself to rise to her taunts, and her arrogant smile drops from her lips. "Not going to allow me my fun, are you?
Very well. I came her to check in on how the youngest of the original, still living, princes was doing. Might have snooped some as well of course, though I swear I took nothing. It's not as if you let yourself have anything nice within your halls, same as ever. Bare and austere or locked away so no one may enjoy it. I did enjoy some light reading however."
At that you risk a glance towards the bookshelves and notice many out of place. Most worryingly, however, is the scroll of the Falmer, old and faded, rolled out for anyone to read. "It seems you've grown something of a soft spot for these elves brother. I pleasant change from the crusading conqueror, I'll admit, but you must forgive me if I don't put my faith in the idea you wouldn't try conquering all of oblivion again."
The false smile leaves her face once more, instead taking on the image of the shadow queen, stern and absolute. "Should you once more attempt to invade the Evergloam, know that I will not fight you. Instead I shall hunt down all those that worship you and my crows shall pluck the eyes from their rotting corpses, this I swear." her expression changes again to the smug thief, grinning at you. "Now I'm sorry to cut the meeting short, but there are other, more important things to be doing. Heed my promise well, little brother." and before you have a chance to retort she steps back into the shadows where she is swallowed up.
You knew it would happen, but the other Daedric princes are slowly revealing themselves to you, and it seems many of them may seek some form of insurance against a return to your old ways. Wonderful.
---
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
Sotha sil may aid in any acts of creation, whether of artifacts, lifeforms, or anything else I deem appropriate. He will give advantage to these actions, letting you roll twice.
What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one
[] A new champion: with the artifacts at your disposal it may be a good idea to seek another champion. Seek out those you had once found as well as new blood who may be worthy of your boons. Dc 75
-[] What artifact will you grant them?
[] the snow elves return: King Felsimar has made good use out of the Jyggylags faith in Morrowind so far, especially with your priests. Perhaps he might officially recognize and support the return of the Falmer on Nirn? DC 80
[] Wherever the wind blows: a common practice among Daedric princes with their artifacts is to toss them upon Nirn and see where they end up, letting a champion be naturally attracted to it. That or to cause chaos depending on the inclinations of the Daedra in question. You might do the same. No dc but there will be a roll to see what happens with the 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. DC65
-the higher the roll the better the item you find.
[] write in. up to qm discretion
---
What shall your champions do? Choose which champion shall do what, both can be assigned to the same task for an extra +20 to the roll
[] Warn Ocato. There is currently a conspiracy to kill the defacto leader of the empire. If you were to warn him theres a chance of him surviving. This wouldn't be from the good of your heart, but having him in your debt would be worthwhile. DC 80
[] Hunt down the brotherhood, phase one: while the brotherhood exists all over Tamriel, you want them gone from at least Skyrim. Send your champion to snuff out their presence. Dc60
[/] Hunt for an artifact: There's many artifacts on Nirn unclaimed by any gods. Were you to discover one, you could send the champion to collect it. Dc55
-Needs an artifact to hunt
[] Let them pursue their own goals: your champions have goals of his own. Let them pursue them and perhaps grow stronger from the effort. There is no dc, just a roll to see how things went for your champion.
[] weakening Thalmor: you know that the Thalmor intend to take over the summerset isles, and that would give them the power and authority to sow chaos across nirn. Have your champions stop that. DC 50
[] write in
---
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 DC's, 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.
[] Reveal yourself to the princes. With the spread of your worship and your acts on nirn the other Daedra may well suspect you have come back. If you were to reveal yourself now, purposefully, it may be better than if you continued to attempt to hide. No DC, but I will roll for each princes reaction. You will not see these rolls.
[] Write in. up to qm discretion
---
What shall you do in Mytheria?
[] 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 it's 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
[] Daedric civilization or the lack thereof. It seems kasurs stories have had an effect on your pawns, that and your domain of civilization. It seems that when not actively serving you they've taken up roles for themselves, hobbys turned into jobs, such as carpenters, masons, bakers, and even a few struggling artists. Perhaps you can give them a slight nudge forward. Dc 33
[] Write in. up to qm discretion
