The conquest of giants
- Location
- A pit
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
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
