The Elder Scrolls XI: Wouldn't Want To Be Elsweyr

[Balmas]

Spoiler: Mad Carl: Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be...

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As I left the halls of Sheogorath, details began to filter back to me from the conversation with Sheogorath. A weight on my chest reminded me that he'd rewarded me with an amulet, claiming that it would either serve me well or look good on my corpse. Something--someone?--called Jyggalag was coming, and it was major bad news.

"A change is coming," he'd announced, his voice heavy. "Everything changes. Even Daedric Princes. Especially Daedric Princes. Daedra are the embodiment of change, change and permanency. I'm no different, except in the ways that I am."

Well, that made sense, except in all the ways that it didn't.

"The Greymarch is coming," he said, rolling his rrrrrrs in a way that I found hard to attribute to his strong accent. "And you're going to stop it."

"How exactly am I going to stop it?"

"The details aren't important," he said, and waved away my questions. "Eternity is on a rather tight deadline. We'll get back to that later. For now? You run an errand for me. An important one. Of course, anything I tell you to do is important. My Realm. My Rules.

"You're going to Xedilian, one of my favorite spots in the Isles. It's a little place I use to take care of unwanted visitors. And some are more unwanted than others." I'm telling you now, you have never heard a voice more melodious than Sheogorath's, and if you have, I urge you to tell me so I can cultivate the acquaintance. It lilted and swayed, speaking of laughter and jokes and terrible agonizing death and parties. "The Gatekeeper takes care of most of the unwanted, but he's dead." I winced. "We'll have to remedy that soon as well.

"Anyway… There are those that have other ways into my Realm, and they're on the move. We don't want them here. Trust me. So, you're going to get Xedilian up and running. Here's a little book to tell you how, and the Attenuator of Judgement. You'll need that, too. Of course, you can always get more details from Haskill. He's a detail-oriented type of person. A big help! And a snappy dresser!"

Yeah. Firecrackers were snappy.

"Now get going, before I change my mind! Or my mind changes me…"

I snagged the book and tuning fork, and the only reason I didn't sprint to the door was because I needed to talk to Haskill about what I was getting into.

"Ahh," he sighed, and… Was that… Yes! The first honest smile--hell, the first smile period--that I'd ever seen grace Haskill's face. "Xedilian… Quite an amazing place really. Wonderful for relieving one's tension as you watch those troublesome adventurers suffer." He smirked at me, and added, "No offense."

Right. He wants sneak, I can do sweet. "Mister Chamberlain, if you please, could you tell me something about the site that doesn't involve its use as easing your undoubtedly stressful life?"

He smacked his forehead. "Of course. How silly of me. The book my Lord gave you has no pictures. Can't really expect you to read that, now can I?"

Oooh, he was good. I shot him a glare that would melt rebar, before stalking out of the palace.

Since I needed to head south, I cut a left out of the palace to travel through the other half of New Sheoth. Where Bliss was all stairs and towers, Crucible felt smothered in overgrown roots and musty gutters, so I quickly moved through it. A person clung at my sleeve and told me to meet him at night, where people couldn't see, but I had a mission that could only be delayed for exploration and side quests.

First up was a ruin south of town called the Howling Halls. In it, zealots attempted to destroy me with fire and lightning, but the enchantments on my armor made it so that I could effectively ignore them.

You know, it's funny how things change. There was a time when my innate weakness to magic, compounded with my birthsign, meant that wizards were among my most feared enemy because they could send me to my knees with a single spell. Now, however, my armor glowed and flexed with each bolt and ball, while I sat toasty and warm returning fire.

Thing is, there's something that not even enchantments could fix, and that was doors locked with a key. Logically, I could have just cut the door out of the wall, or melted it with fire, but I figured that someone who'd made a tumbler immune to lockpicks deserved their privacy for now. I'd come back later, I guessed, when people were more welcoming.

From there, I moved towards the sight of some odd bugs, like if you crossed praying mantises with bees, and then enlarged them to be the size of bears. They were annoying to put down, but not overly threatening. And the tree they were guarding was really more noteworthy for the amount of alchemical ingredients than for the number of enemies there--glowing plants everywhere, as well as amber branches. Mentally, I made a note to check back with the blacksmith in Bliss; I'd probably never wear the amber armor because it made me look too much like a honeybee fetishist, but maybe the weapons would be better.

Once I'd finished clearing that cave system of its monsters and the valuables they held, I caught a glimpse of a strange arched structure across the marsh, and waded over to see what it was. Answer: Not much, but it held some more zealots to clear out.

The zealots were probably recruits from Xavara, the ruin immediately to the east. It too was full of the same lunatics. Around halfway through the ruin, I found a small book--more of a pamphlet, really--that described what I was dealing with. The Zealots, apparently, believed that Sheogorath was an Aedra in human form, a contradiction which had my mind twisting to fit together the two contradictions, and that some Arden-Sul guy was the moral part of that. Or something like that. More importantly, it said that they would not attack anyone wearing the zealot's robes and hoods, even if attacked by them, as they recognized that obviously, anyone wearing their clothes shared their beliefs.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work like that. The first person to go in walked up to me and stated accusingly, "You're not one of us!" Ah well. If that didn't work, back to the armor it was.

Another half-mile or so to the east, I found Knotty Brambles. It was a lot like the other tree ruins in the area--full of grummites and gnarls, except that they seemed to be living in peace in this ruin. Then I found a small pathway where the packed dirt gave way to worked stone--two zealots lay on a plinth. Not dead--I checked their pulse, and it was faint but there. Just not moving. I did what any self-respecting adventurer would do and looked through their pockets for change. No dice, but under the woman, hidden right in the small of the back, there was a small button. Pushing it opened a hole in the wall, and woke up the zealots. Once they were dispatched, I found a skull, and pocketed it because it seemed important.

Finally, after killing an island full of grummite, I reached my destination. Xedilian didn't seem like much--a long, rambling ruin full of grummite. In this case, I found that it was more useful to employ a fireball spell rather than the Finger, if only because the hallways were tiny, the grummite came in groups, and the combination of the two meant that I could just shell a location and count on people getting hit.

In order to restore the ruins, I needed to find three power crystals and return them to their separate judgement nexuses. The grummite shamans had stolen them to use in their staves, so it was a simple matter of rolling through the ruins until I'd killed all three shamans and returned the crystals to hovering in their cradles. Then, for the main crystal--a tap with the Fork of Attunement set it humming and my teeth chattering.

As I stepped on the teleportation pad to exit the dungeon, I had to ask myself why the crystal wasn't affecting me. If what I'd read was accurate, Xedilian was meant to be a sort of trap for adventurers, calling them here where they'd be either killed or driven insane by the traps here. Was I not an adventurer?

Then the teleporter pad warped me… To Xedilian. And there was a Dunmer in my face, being annoyingly ingratiating. My surprise meant I missed the first few words, but I got that he was incredibly happy to have been given help.

"What am I saying, where are my manners? Must get into my professional tone… Ahem. Welcome to Xedilian. I'm the dungeon caretaker, Kiliban Nyrandil. It's a wonder of engineering, isn't it?"

"I'm sure that it is. Though your teleportation--"

"Xedilian is the ultimate test of mettle for the foolhardy adventurer that dares trespass into the Shivering Isles," he enthused right past me. "What they don't know is that they're being drawn to their DOOM, courtesy of the Resonator of Judgement!"

"Yes, yes, that's very interesting, but--"

"But ever since that wretched Gatekeeper was made, Xedilian became redundant. It fell into disrepair and was eventually all but forgotten. After only a few years, those ghastly grummites began moving in! They mistook the Focus Crystals for some sort of religious symbols, and removed them from their rightful place."

"Luckily, I've fixed that," I cut in. "So if we could please skip to the part where I get to leave?"

"Yes, yes, I tend to ramble, you'll have to forgive me. If you have the Attenuator, then Sheogorath must have sent you. Xedilian would normally have sent you back to the entrance when you stepped on that pad in the Resonator Chamber."

"But it hasn't because…?"

"Since you're here, I can only surmise that adventurers are already entering the dungeon as we speak."

Okay, that was a bigger pile of manure than you'd find in any cow pasture. I'd walked to the pad literally seconds after I'd hit the tuning fork on the giant crystal resonator. For them to be in the dungeon, they'd have to have been waiting to come in before I even finished. Which suggested that Sheogorath was meddling. I groaned.

"Remind me why this is my problem? You're the gatekeeper, you do something about it."

He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid until the adventurers are dealt with, Xedilian wllkeep you here. Even I can't will its doors to open."

"What kind of security system is that? Who designed this? That's madness!" Suddenly, I felt very stupid.

"The only thing we can do is let the adventurers complete a cycle through here. I assume that when Sheogorath sent you, he gave you the User's Manual for Xedilian, correct?" Right. It was sitting right where I'd left it, at the bottom of my pack. "It will give you the instructions you need, and I'll be too glad to assist if you need it."

"Right. You just… Go ahead. I need to do something real quick, and then I'll join you."

Kiliban nodded and disappeared in a shower of gold sparks, and I turned to dig the book out of my pack. "Three trials, yada yada, death or insanity. Not too hard." More than a bit distasteful, though; when the place was built, each trial was built to be a bit of an arena, with a comfortable viewing area above.

With that in mind, I steeled myself for the insanity and stepped through the teleportation pad. Three adventurers--an orc in heavy plate, an altmer in a robe, and what looked like a dunmer in a set of leather armor--were already gathered around the first obstacle.

The orc was the first to speak. "This is one of the 'horrid guardinas' of which the stories spoke? A runt of a gnarl? What a joke! Let's be rid of this thing and continue on our way."

Two buttons--one to turn the gnarl twenty feet tall, while the other summoned a horde of mini-gnarl. I frowned, considering. It seemed to me that the group would stand a better chance if they had to fight a group of small ones rather than one huge one. And I felt horrible for giggling a little as the group proved inadequate to even beat those. The orc and the mage survived, linking arms to defend each other, but the rogue got caught out and disemboweled.

"Lewin!" the orc cried. "Dammit, I should have known better!"

The dunmer behind me grinned. "Unleashed the swarm, did we? Nothing like a little bloodlust to start the encounter off right."

Down in the pit, the orc's remaining companion frowned. "There's nothing to be done here. We must press on."

Indeed they did. And if memory served, the next one was one that tested for greed. A mighty ziggurat, with a mound of gold and that bane of adventurers everywhere: a key-locked barrier to entry. For this one, I could simply blow them up, but that seemed a bit too simple. And the alternative was actually a test, rather than just blowing them up out of nowhere. I pressed a button, and a torrent of keys clattered and clinked to the floor.

The altmer, Syndelius was overjoyed, and crouched over the pile of keys like a hen scratching at grain. I admit, I was worried my guffaws would reach down to the Orc trying to convince his friend to leave the keys. "None of them are going to fit anyway!" Good instincts, there. And by the time the Orc left in frustration, the Altmer was practically bathing in the keys.

The final trap was the only one to actually make me feel guilty, and that was because it played on the Orc's pride. I could have summoned a horde of zombies to kill him, but the other option, to play a trick on him and make him think he'd died, also had appeal. I actually felt bad at laughing at him as he quietly had a melt down, going, "I'm dead? What killed me? That can't be! I can't be dead! Cormok has never lost a battle!" before falling to his knees in his madness.

I had to admit, Haskill's a bastard, but he was right about this being relaxing and entertaining.

Of course, that didn't last, because as soon as we were done, we got jumped by three goons in crystal armor. Or, correction, as I went to loot them, three goons made out of crystal armor? Kiliban named them the Knights of Order, and told me to talk to Sheogorath about it.

He also gave me a nifty sword with two blades. Looks like a crocodile, but I probably won't use it. The bloody thing looks like an Akaviri cleaver.

Nevertheless, I traveled back to New Sheoth with a bounce in my step. A side-trip to the Hill of Suicides showed me a hill of ghosts that were utterly nonresponsive to any of my attempts to talk to him, except for one which went through my pack, grabbed the skull from Knotted Brambles, and vanished. Guess they were his remains. Good deed done for the day!

Oh, and I'd also stopped in at Fellmoor, and caused a bit of havoc by bribing my way into the good graces of one citizen, delivering a spoon to earn the good graces of another, and wrecking somebody else's house for reasons unknown. I've decided not to question it.

Sheogorath grinned as I practically floated into the throne room. Man, if causing chaos was this much fun, I might make a hobby out of it. "What news do ye have to report?"

"Well, first the news of the day: the Knights of Order are back."

"So soon? Not a surprise, I suppose. We'll get to that later. No need to burden your little brain with it now."

"I resent that remark."

Sheogorath grinned. "And what of Xedilian? Since you're standing here, I assume you've succeeded. Or you're terribly confused. Or really lacking in good judgement."

"It's up and running, and my compliments to the architect."

"Wonderful," he cheered. "Time for a celebration! Cheeeeeeese for everyone! Wait, scratch that. Cheese for no one. That can be just as much of a celebration if you don't like cheese, true? You've run a maze like a good little rat, but no cheese for you yet. Well, maybe a little. I've granted you a new spell: the ability to summon Haskill, my chamberlain, to aid you in your travels. He knows a lot. More than he knows."

Oh, this day could not get any better. "Lemme get this straight: I get to summon Bald, Dork, and Straightlaced anywhere, any time, for whatever reason?" If I smiled any wider, the top of my head might just fly off.

"In fact, give it a try! Summon our friend to you now. I'll wait!"

I gave Haskill an evil grin and walked to the other end of the room and cast the spell. Haskill vanished from besides the throne and… Well, he didn't moan, but his face said he wanted to. "I see our lord has given you the power to summon me. How wonderful. When summoned, I can give advice on your current endeavor. I imagine that it's up to you what to do with my wisdom." Then, he was back by the side of the throne.

"Isn't that a hoot?" Sheogorath called from across the room. "Best part of being a Daedric prince, really. Go ahead, try it again, he loves it!"

Oh, I was only too glad. I was fully planning to spend every five seconds summoning the chamberlain on the road, give him five second status updates for as long as it kept being funny.

After I'd amused myself long enough, Sheogorath grinned at me. "Good, good! You'll need all the help you can get if you're going to defeat Jyggalag and stop the Greymarch."

"That's the second time you've mentioned that name. Who or what is Jyggalag?"

"The Daedric Prince of Order," he sneered. "Or biscuits? No, order. And NOT in a good way. Bleak. Colorless. Dead. Boring, boring, BORING! And not a fan of my work, I can tell you. Hates it, hates me. A bit single-minded, if you'll take my meaning."

"And the Greymarch?"

"Greymarch comes, and Jyggalag walks. Or runs. Never skips, sidles or struts. Mostly, he just destroys everything around him."

"And what does my Lord ask of me?" Might as well get this thing started off, right?

Sheogorath's face turned thunderous, as did his voice. "Ask? ASK? I don't ask! I tell! This is my realm, remember? My creation, my place, MAH RULES. Look at you. No concept of what you've stumbled into. No sense of place. You don't even really know where you are, do you?"

"New Sheo--"

"Hold your tongue or I'll hold it for you. I suppose few really do, but that's beside the point. We're going to give you a taste of where you have found yourself. You're going to learn." The way he said it made it sound like a threat.

"Two halves, two rulers, two places. Meet and greet. Do what they will, so you know what they're about. The Duke of Mania, and the Duchess of Dementia. Seek them out, and let them show you what New Sheoth is. You might be surprised. And once you understand what My Realm is, you might understand why it's important to keep it intact."

Well, that wasn't ominous at all. The end of the world cometh, and I'm the one in the middle. This ought to be fun.

[Illven]

Spoiler: Mad Carl: Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be...

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As I left the halls of Sheogorath, details began to filter back to me from the conversation with Sheogorath. A weight on my chest reminded me that he'd rewarded me with an amulet, claiming that it would either serve me well or look good on my corpse. Something--someone?--called Jyggalag was coming, and it was major bad news.

"A change is coming," he'd announced, his voice heavy. "Everything changes. Even Daedric Princes. Especially Daedric Princes. Daedra are the embodiment of change, change and permanency. I'm no different, except in the ways that I am."

Well, that made sense, except in all the ways that it didn't.

"The Greymarch is coming," he said, rolling his rrrrrrs in a way that I found hard to attribute to his strong accent. "And you're going to stop it."

"How exactly am I going to stop it?"

"The details aren't important," he said, and waved away my questions. "Eternity is on a rather tight deadline. We'll get back to that later. For now? You run an errand for me. An important one. Of course, anything I tell you to do is important. My Realm. My Rules.

"You're going to Xedilian, one of my favorite spots in the Isles. It's a little place I use to take care of unwanted visitors. And some are more unwanted than others." I'm telling you now, you have never heard a voice more melodious than Sheogorath's, and if you have, I urge you to tell me so I can cultivate the acquaintance. It lilted and swayed, speaking of laughter and jokes and terrible agonizing death and parties. "The Gatekeeper takes care of most of the unwanted, but he's dead." I winced. "We'll have to remedy that soon as well.

"Anyway… There are those that have other ways into my Realm, and they're on the move. We don't want them here. Trust me. So, you're going to get Xedilian up and running. Here's a little book to tell you how, and the Attenuator of Judgement. You'll need that, too. Of course, you can always get more details from Haskill. He's a detail-oriented type of person. A big help! And a snappy dresser!"

Yeah. Firecrackers were snappy.

"Now get going, before I change my mind! Or my mind changes me…"

I snagged the book and tuning fork, and the only reason I didn't sprint to the door was because I needed to talk to Haskill about what I was getting into.

"Ahh," he sighed, and… Was that… Yes! The first honest smile--hell, the first smile period--that I'd ever seen grace Haskill's face. "Xedilian… Quite an amazing place really. Wonderful for relieving one's tension as you watch those troublesome adventurers suffer." He smirked at me, and added, "No offense."

Right. He wants sneak, I can do sweet. "Mister Chamberlain, if you please, could you tell me something about the site that doesn't involve its use as easing your undoubtedly stressful life?"

He smacked his forehead. "Of course. How silly of me. The book my Lord gave you has no pictures. Can't really expect you to read that, now can I?"

Oooh, he was good. I shot him a glare that would melt rebar, before stalking out of the palace.

Since I needed to head south, I cut a left out of the palace to travel through the other half of New Sheoth. Where Bliss was all stairs and towers, Crucible felt smothered in overgrown roots and musty gutters, so I quickly moved through it. A person clung at my sleeve and told me to meet him at night, where people couldn't see, but I had a mission that could only be delayed for exploration and side quests.

First up was a ruin south of town called the Howling Halls. In it, zealots attempted to destroy me with fire and lightning, but the enchantments on my armor made it so that I could effectively ignore them.

You know, it's funny how things change. There was a time when my innate weakness to magic, compounded with my birthsign, meant that wizards were among my most feared enemy because they could send me to my knees with a single spell. Now, however, my armor glowed and flexed with each bolt and ball, while I sat toasty and warm returning fire.

Thing is, there's something that not even enchantments could fix, and that was doors locked with a key. Logically, I could have just cut the door out of the wall, or melted it with fire, but I figured that someone who'd made a tumbler immune to lockpicks deserved their privacy for now. I'd come back later, I guessed, when people were more welcoming.

From there, I moved towards the sight of some odd bugs, like if you crossed praying mantises with bees, and then enlarged them to be the size of bears. They were annoying to put down, but not overly threatening. And the tree they were guarding was really more noteworthy for the amount of alchemical ingredients than for the number of enemies there--glowing plants everywhere, as well as amber branches. Mentally, I made a note to check back with the blacksmith in Bliss; I'd probably never wear the amber armor because it made me look too much like a honeybee fetishist, but maybe the weapons would be better.

Once I'd finished clearing that cave system of its monsters and the valuables they held, I caught a glimpse of a strange arched structure across the marsh, and waded over to see what it was. Answer: Not much, but it held some more zealots to clear out.

The zealots were probably recruits from Xavara, the ruin immediately to the east. It too was full of the same lunatics. Around halfway through the ruin, I found a small book--more of a pamphlet, really--that described what I was dealing with. The Zealots, apparently, believed that Sheogorath was an Aedra in human form, a contradiction which had my mind twisting to fit together the two contradictions, and that some Arden-Sul guy was the moral part of that. Or something like that. More importantly, it said that they would not attack anyone wearing the zealot's robes and hoods, even if attacked by them, as they recognized that obviously, anyone wearing their clothes shared their beliefs.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work like that. The first person to go in walked up to me and stated accusingly, "You're not one of us!" Ah well. If that didn't work, back to the armor it was.

Another half-mile or so to the east, I found Knotty Brambles. It was a lot like the other tree ruins in the area--full of grummites and gnarls, except that they seemed to be living in peace in this ruin. Then I found a small pathway where the packed dirt gave way to worked stone--two zealots lay on a plinth. Not dead--I checked their pulse, and it was faint but there. Just not moving. I did what any self-respecting adventurer would do and looked through their pockets for change. No dice, but under the woman, hidden right in the small of the back, there was a small button. Pushing it opened a hole in the wall, and woke up the zealots. Once they were dispatched, I found a skull, and pocketed it because it seemed important.

Finally, after killing an island full of grummite, I reached my destination. Xedilian didn't seem like much--a long, rambling ruin full of grummite. In this case, I found that it was more useful to employ a fireball spell rather than the Finger, if only because the hallways were tiny, the grummite came in groups, and the combination of the two meant that I could just shell a location and count on people getting hit.

In order to restore the ruins, I needed to find three power crystals and return them to their separate judgement nexuses. The grummite shamans had stolen them to use in their staves, so it was a simple matter of rolling through the ruins until I'd killed all three shamans and returned the crystals to hovering in their cradles. Then, for the main crystal--a tap with the Fork of Attunement set it humming and my teeth chattering.

As I stepped on the teleportation pad to exit the dungeon, I had to ask myself why the crystal wasn't affecting me. If what I'd read was accurate, Xedilian was meant to be a sort of trap for adventurers, calling them here where they'd be either killed or driven insane by the traps here. Was I not an adventurer?

Then the teleporter pad warped me… To Xedilian. And there was a Dunmer in my face, being annoyingly ingratiating. My surprise meant I missed the first few words, but I got that he was incredibly happy to have been given help.

"What am I saying, where are my manners? Must get into my professional tone… Ahem. Welcome to Xedilian. I'm the dungeon caretaker, Kiliban Nyrandil. It's a wonder of engineering, isn't it?"

"I'm sure that it is. Though your teleportation--"

"Xedilian is the ultimate test of mettle for the foolhardy adventurer that dares trespass into the Shivering Isles," he enthused right past me. "What they don't know is that they're being drawn to their DOOM, courtesy of the Resonator of Judgement!"

"Yes, yes, that's very interesting, but--"

"But ever since that wretched Gatekeeper was made, Xedilian became redundant. It fell into disrepair and was eventually all but forgotten. After only a few years, those ghastly grummites began moving in! They mistook the Focus Crystals for some sort of religious symbols, and removed them from their rightful place."

"Luckily, I've fixed that," I cut in. "So if we could please skip to the part where I get to leave?"

"Yes, yes, I tend to ramble, you'll have to forgive me. If you have the Attenuator, then Sheogorath must have sent you. Xedilian would normally have sent you back to the entrance when you stepped on that pad in the Resonator Chamber."

"But it hasn't because…?"

"Since you're here, I can only surmise that adventurers are already entering the dungeon as we speak."

Okay, that was a bigger pile of manure than you'd find in any cow pasture. I'd walked to the pad literally seconds after I'd hit the tuning fork on the giant crystal resonator. For them to be in the dungeon, they'd have to have been waiting to come in before I even finished. Which suggested that Sheogorath was meddling. I groaned.

"Remind me why this is my problem? You're the gatekeeper, you do something about it."

He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid until the adventurers are dealt with, Xedilian wllkeep you here. Even I can't will its doors to open."

"What kind of security system is that? Who designed this? That's madness!" Suddenly, I felt very stupid.

"The only thing we can do is let the adventurers complete a cycle through here. I assume that when Sheogorath sent you, he gave you the User's Manual for Xedilian, correct?" Right. It was sitting right where I'd left it, at the bottom of my pack. "It will give you the instructions you need, and I'll be too glad to assist if you need it."

"Right. You just… Go ahead. I need to do something real quick, and then I'll join you."

Kiliban nodded and disappeared in a shower of gold sparks, and I turned to dig the book out of my pack. "Three trials, yada yada, death or insanity. Not too hard." More than a bit distasteful, though; when the place was built, each trial was built to be a bit of an arena, with a comfortable viewing area above.

With that in mind, I steeled myself for the insanity and stepped through the teleportation pad. Three adventurers--an orc in heavy plate, an altmer in a robe, and what looked like a dunmer in a set of leather armor--were already gathered around the first obstacle.

The orc was the first to speak. "This is one of the 'horrid guardinas' of which the stories spoke? A runt of a gnarl? What a joke! Let's be rid of this thing and continue on our way."

Two buttons--one to turn the gnarl twenty feet tall, while the other summoned a horde of mini-gnarl. I frowned, considering. It seemed to me that the group would stand a better chance if they had to fight a group of small ones rather than one huge one. And I felt horrible for giggling a little as the group proved inadequate to even beat those. The orc and the mage survived, linking arms to defend each other, but the rogue got caught out and disemboweled.

"Lewin!" the orc cried. "Dammit, I should have known better!"

The dunmer behind me grinned. "Unleashed the swarm, did we? Nothing like a little bloodlust to start the encounter off right."

Down in the pit, the orc's remaining companion frowned. "There's nothing to be done here. We must press on."

Indeed they did. And if memory served, the next one was one that tested for greed. A mighty ziggurat, with a mound of gold and that bane of adventurers everywhere: a key-locked barrier to entry. For this one, I could simply blow them up, but that seemed a bit too simple. And the alternative was actually a test, rather than just blowing them up out of nowhere. I pressed a button, and a torrent of keys clattered and clinked to the floor.

The altmer, Syndelius was overjoyed, and crouched over the pile of keys like a hen scratching at grain. I admit, I was worried my guffaws would reach down to the Orc trying to convince his friend to leave the keys. "None of them are going to fit anyway!" Good instincts, there. And by the time the Orc left in frustration, the Altmer was practically bathing in the keys.

The final trap was the only one to actually make me feel guilty, and that was because it played on the Orc's pride. I could have summoned a horde of zombies to kill him, but the other option, to play a trick on him and make him think he'd died, also had appeal. I actually felt bad at laughing at him as he quietly had a melt down, going, "I'm dead? What killed me? That can't be! I can't be dead! Cormok has never lost a battle!" before falling to his knees in his madness.

I had to admit, Haskill's a bastard, but he was right about this being relaxing and entertaining.

Of course, that didn't last, because as soon as we were done, we got jumped by three goons in crystal armor. Or, correction, as I went to loot them, three goons made out of crystal armor? Kiliban named them the Knights of Order, and told me to talk to Sheogorath about it.

He also gave me a nifty sword with two blades. Looks like a crocodile, but I probably won't use it. The bloody thing looks like an Akaviri cleaver.

Nevertheless, I traveled back to New Sheoth with a bounce in my step. A side-trip to the Hill of Suicides showed me a hill of ghosts that were utterly nonresponsive to any of my attempts to talk to him, except for one which went through my pack, grabbed the skull from Knotted Brambles, and vanished. Guess they were his remains. Good deed done for the day!

Oh, and I'd also stopped in at Fellmoor, and caused a bit of havoc by bribing my way into the good graces of one citizen, delivering a spoon to earn the good graces of another, and wrecking somebody else's house for reasons unknown. I've decided not to question it.

Sheogorath grinned as I practically floated into the throne room. Man, if causing chaos was this much fun, I might make a hobby out of it. "What news do ye have to report?"

"Well, first the news of the day: the Knights of Order are back."

"So soon? Not a surprise, I suppose. We'll get to that later. No need to burden your little brain with it now."

"I resent that remark."

Sheogorath grinned. "And what of Xedilian? Since you're standing here, I assume you've succeeded. Or you're terribly confused. Or really lacking in good judgement."

"It's up and running, and my compliments to the architect."

"Wonderful," he cheered. "Time for a celebration! Cheeeeeeese for everyone! Wait, scratch that. Cheese for no one. That can be just as much of a celebration if you don't like cheese, true? You've run a maze like a good little rat, but no cheese for you yet. Well, maybe a little. I've granted you a new spell: the ability to summon Haskill, my chamberlain, to aid you in your travels. He knows a lot. More than he knows."

Oh, this day could not get any better. "Lemme get this straight: I get to summon Bald, Dork, and Straightlaced anywhere, any time, for whatever reason?" If I smiled any wider, the top of my head might just fly off.

"In fact, give it a try! Summon our friend to you now. I'll wait!"

I gave Haskill an evil grin and walked to the other end of the room and cast the spell. Haskill vanished from besides the throne and… Well, he didn't moan, but his face said he wanted to. "I see our lord has given you the power to summon me. How wonderful. When summoned, I can give advice on your current endeavor. I imagine that it's up to you what to do with my wisdom." Then, he was back by the side of the throne.

"Isn't that a hoot?" Sheogorath called from across the room. "Best part of being a Daedric prince, really. Go ahead, try it again, he loves it!"

Oh, I was only too glad. I was fully planning to spend every five seconds summoning the chamberlain on the road, give him five second status updates for as long as it kept being funny.

After I'd amused myself long enough, Sheogorath grinned at me. "Good, good! You'll need all the help you can get if you're going to defeat Jyggalag and stop the Greymarch."

"That's the second time you've mentioned that name. Who or what is Jyggalag?"

"The Daedric Prince of Order," he sneered. "Or biscuits? No, order. And NOT in a good way. Bleak. Colorless. Dead. Boring, boring, BORING! And not a fan of my work, I can tell you. Hates it, hates me. A bit single-minded, if you'll take my meaning."

"And the Greymarch?"

"Greymarch comes, and Jyggalag walks. Or runs. Never skips, sidles or struts. Mostly, he just destroys everything around him."

"And what does my Lord ask of me?" Might as well get this thing started off, right?

Sheogorath's face turned thunderous, as did his voice. "Ask? ASK? I don't ask! I tell! This is my realm, remember? My creation, my place, MAH RULES. Look at you. No concept of what you've stumbled into. No sense of place. You don't even really know where you are, do you?"

"New Sheo--"

"Hold your tongue or I'll hold it for you. I suppose few really do, but that's beside the point. We're going to give you a taste of where you have found yourself. You're going to learn." The way he said it made it sound like a threat.

"Two halves, two rulers, two places. Meet and greet. Do what they will, so you know what they're about. The Duke of Mania, and the Duchess of Dementia. Seek them out, and let them show you what New Sheoth is. You might be surprised. And once you understand what My Realm is, you might understand why it's important to keep it intact."

Well, that wasn't ominous at all. The end of the world cometh, and I'm the one in the middle. This ought to be fun.

You know who else can update!

Me!

But seriously obviously I like your updates and I wanted you to know that.

Spoiler: BEST ADVENTURER

Show

When I returned to Maurrie Aurmine note in hand, she seemed elated. At once she raved about how their love was meant to be, and that I was an amazing hero. She suggested that if I was ever in tel Branora that I should visit their friend Barnand Erelie. I was a bit disappointed that I didn't get anything material. But I consoled myself by knowing that I had done a good deed.

I entered a cave, I was now an adventurer, adventurer's explored caves that was pretty much their job. Reaching for my bow, I discovered to my shock that it wasn't there! How did I lose my bow!

Later in the cave there was raised platform, the path to it however had a fence door in the way. It was also guarded by a lone woman. Instead of using missile weapons of some variety, or gathering reinforcements, she just yelled and swung with her weapon uselessly. Wishing that I had my bow, I dealt with the trapped fence.

After a difficult battle that really had me wishing I still had my bow, I had a moment of elation as my healing spell finally managed to work. Scavenging around the dungeon I managed to find lighter grieves then I was wearing, but I could tell even if I was more skilled in using them, that they would provide much less protection. After that with my injuries and low... spirit is still the best word for it, I realized I had to leave the cave for later.

As I entered Balmora after a long hike, the most note was that it was foggy. My second thought was that all this stuff I was carrying was really really heavy. I needed to sell it to people like Arille. Making the rounds around town, it didn't take long for me to hawk all my old loot, and to buy a new bow, that hopefully I won't lose this time!

Asking around I managed to pick up Cadius's trail. Entering his house proudly I shouted how I was ready for work. He was a step behind but as I explained myself, he asked me to present this proclaimed note......... Where's the note.... This.... This isn't funny. Where... Where's my note..... I AM BEST ADVENTURER! He got annoyed when I told him I'd be right back.

Making the rounds again, I didn't see the orders I was given... Did I really have to go all the way back to Pelgaid, or Seyda Neen? Of course I did.

Back in Arunmana, I saw a chest that was too complex for me to even attempt to pick. I wasn't a ruffian where would I have learned to pick back home..... Right.... Home... Shaking those thoughts from my head, I had one guy suicidally rush me with his fists, while I had a weapon, and actually two people committed suicide by adventurer.....

Okay people swinging a weapon at me, I can handle. Kinda. People attacking others, I can handle. People wanting me to kill them.... I mean I was in no danger, but still.... I didn't like it. Which I know sounds so weak, but I didn't have better words.

Entering yet another cave, this one called Ulummusa, it wasn't long before a female dark elf attacked me. She was a potent foe, and if she was trying to commit suicide by adventurer she did a terrible job, because I swiftly had to run screaming.

Making the rounds at Plegaid. I realized that it wasn't there either. It was getting late, and I was sore. So I realized that I swiftly needed to go to sleep.

And that was my second day in Morrowind.

[Triaxx]

I've started LPing Skyrim. It won't be a fast running series, since I'm using it as intermissions in Fallout New Vegas, but I'm enjoying and I thought you might as well. As with New Vegas, I'm sort of RPing, but my character is the kind who wants to go into those little dungeons that turn into four hour side tracks. IE, I'm RPing a character with no common sense. Channel Link is in my signature.

I think I only ever completed Shivering Isles once, because after Xend-thingy, I kind of got bored. It turned into the same sort of go here, kill them quests. Not that it's not still fun, but it's not entertaining enough for me to do it twice.

On one of the rooftops in New Sheo, in Crucible I think, there's a Ring of Light. I found that to be moderately handy.

[DigoDragon]

I purchased Hearthfire and Dawnguard DLCs, and it turned out I got an additional discount getting them together. Huzzah!
So now I wait for the remaster in... October?

"The Greymarch is coming," he said, rolling his rrrrrrs in a way that I found hard to attribute to his strong accent. "And you're going to stop it."

"How exactly am I going to stop it?"

"The details aren't important," he said, and waved away my questions. "Eternity is on a rather tight deadline. We'll get back to that later. For now? You run an errand for me. An important one. Of course, anything I tell you to do is important. My Realm. My Rules.

So... how do you not end up mouthing off this being when they tell you that the 'details aren't important'? I think details are VERY important! A lesser hero would probably go insane getting wrapped up in world-ending events like this.

"What kind of security system is that? Who designed this? That's madness!" Suddenly, I felt very stupid.

The aneurysm is slowly taking hold.

I entered a cave, I was now an adventurer, adventurer's explored caves that was pretty much their job.

Seems legit.

And that was my second day in Morrowind.

Sounds like this is going to be another good journal. :D

[Illven]

I've started LPing Skyrim. It won't be a fast running series, since I'm using it as intermissions in Fallout New Vegas, but I'm enjoying and I thought you might as well. As with New Vegas, I'm sort of RPing, but my character is the kind who wants to go into those little dungeons that turn into four hour side tracks. IE, I'm RPing a character with no common sense. Channel Link is in my signature.

I think I only ever completed Shivering Isles once, because after Xend-thingy, I kind of got bored. It turned into the same sort of go here, kill them quests. Not that it's not still fun, but it's not entertaining enough for me to do it twice.

On one of the rooftops in New Sheo, in Crucible I think, there's a Ring of Light. I found that to be moderately handy.

What does Wilderness lore do?

[Triaxx]

They're a bunch of survival oriented perks. They give bonuses to movement speed, or the ability to pick up and move bear traps. They also give bonuses against things I have knowledge of. So if I have knowledge of Dragons, I get a bonus against them. That one requires an uncapper, but I've never been able to get it installed correctly.

I also get bonuses for frostfall if I go up the tree and I'll likely do that, since I'm not a heavy armor nord.

[Mr.Moron]

Sorry, bit of meat-question here. Is this proper place to put play through summaries and the like? I've been wanting to start new Skyrim run, do some small story write-ups on the events with a few screenshots and post it somewhere. It probably doesn't constitute enough content for its own lets play style thread anywhere, so I've been looking for a place to do it.

[Aeson]

Is this proper place to put play through summaries and the like?

The "proper" place? Probably not. However, two other people have been doing something along those lines, and to my knowledge there have been no objections thus far, so precedent would suggest that it should be alright for you to do something like that if you so chose.

[DomaDoma]

So, the official notice that we're getting game six in a few years, if ever, has driven me into the arms of Evil Arts. And, well, Dragon Age: Origins is fairly consuming my life right now. It's very good. I had intended to do a blind LP, but it turns out I can't actually do that for something I'm emotionally invested in. But, heads up, when it's over I'll be starting a thread detailing what I thought and did during aforementioned blind playthrough (roughly - make allowance for slightly different dialogue at slightly different times when I need to replay a bit), and y'all are welcome to blindly experience it for yourself.

Upshot: it's something like a fusion between Elder Scrolls and Final Fantasy XII, if Final Fantasy XII realized it actually had a good story on its hands.

[Triaxx]

I have to admit, I don't like Dragon Age. Or Mass Effect for that matter.

Spoiler: Reasons

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They're both hopeless lost causes. In both you basically get told that yes, you defeated the boss, three times, but it doesn't matter. There are still infinite legions of aliens/darkspawn, just waiting and growing constantly in strength. So what's the bloody point?

Yes, in Skyrim you're fighting endless hordes of draugr, and bandits, and dragons. But it's never pointed out. It's never 'oh, you killed a few million dragons, too bad it's done no good whatsoever. Yup, kill all you want it won't stop them.' You know it's happening, but the game never flat out tells you, nothing you do is going to matter.

Dragon Age and Mass Effect seem to love doing that. Essentially it's constantly hopeless, and you're continually reminded of it. So meh. I'm glad I didn't pay for Dragon Age at least. :P

[LibraryOgre]

Sorry, bit of meat-question here. Is this proper place to put play through summaries and the like? I've been wanting to start new Skyrim run, do some small story write-ups on the events with a few screenshots and post it somewhere. It probably doesn't constitute enough content for its own lets play style thread anywhere, so I've been looking for a place to do it.

The Mod Wonder: This is an appropriate place. If someone wants to start their own thread about an LP, they're welcome to, but if you don't think it will be enough content to support its own thread, feel free to put it here... just spoiler things, to prevent those of us who aren't into LPs from having to read through it.

[Togath]

Anyone have recommendations for music replacers for Oblivion or Skyrim?
I mean, the default music is decent, but with over a hundred hours in each, I kind of want to try something new.

[MagmaCam]

would be interesting to see two homelands in one game not it sure where they should set it tho

[Temotei]

Anyone have recommendations for music replacers for Oblivion or Skyrim?
I mean, the default music is decent, but with over a hundred hours in each, I kind of want to try something new.

I enjoy Additional Music Project. You can either replace or simply add to the existing music.

[DomaDoma]

would be interesting to see two homelands in one game not it sure where they should set it tho

In that case, it would be Valenwood and Elsweyr, no contest.

[Aeson]

In that case, it would be Valenwood and Elsweyr, no contest.

There's also Orsinium and High Rock or Hammerfell. Bethesda has, in the recent games, tended to stick to just one province and maybe a small piece of another or a smallish area not in any specific province (the Shivering Isles and Solstheim), and unless I'm mistaken Orsinium and the Orc homeland is more or less a subregion of High Rock or Hammerfell or both.

[Admiral Squish]

There's also Orsinium and High Rock or Hammerfell. Bethesda has, in the recent games, tended to stick to just one province and maybe a small piece of another or a smallish area not in any specific province (the Shivering Isles and Solstheim), and unless I'm mistaken Orsinium and the Orc homeland is more or less a subregion of High Rock or Hammerfell or both.

IIRC, Orsinum is a small kingdom in the mountains between Hammerfell and Skyrim.

Personally, I'd love to see an Eleswyr/Valenwood area. Lots of varied terrain to play with there.

[Inarius]

If its multi province it will either be Valenwood and Elswyer or High Rock and Hammerfell with or without Orsinium. I know Toidd Howard has said he'd want to revisit High Rock and Daggerfall in particular with a current gen engine though he said that somewhere before ESO launched I think. For me either area would be good though I think I'd weight slightly more towards Valenwood/Elsweyr.

[DomaDoma]

Fantastic. Skyrim came out before ESO and this guy's statement, and logically leads to a game set in High Rock and Hammerfell. (Arena also came out before ESO, to prove that all this superstition against location repeats is a bit silly.)

[Storm_Of_Snow]

The stones stop stacking once they're identified. Don't talk to Vex until you've got the last one.

I think there's a glitch if you do that - you need to have talked to her about them by the last but one at the latest.

[Aeson]

IIRC, Orsinum is a small kingdom in the mountains between Hammerfell and Skyrim.

The Daggerfall game map puts Orsinium NW of Wayrest and NE of Menevia, both of which are in High Rock, and How Orsinium Passed to the Orcs places Orsinium between Wayrest and Menevia. Hammerfell is largely to south of Wayrest and Menevia, across the Illiac Bay, though there is a portion of it that stretches away north towards Skyrim east of Wayrest.

Maybe Bethesda decided to move Orsinium for Skyrim, but the material with which I'm familiar places Orsinium in High Rock.

[Admiral Squish]

The Daggerfall game map puts Orsinium NW of Wayrest and NE of Menevia, both of which are in High Rock, and How Orsinium Passed to the Orcs places Orsinium between Wayrest and Menevia. Hammerfell is largely to south of Wayrest and Menevia, across the Illiac Bay, though there is a portion of it that stretches away north towards Skyrim east of Wayrest.

Maybe Bethesda decided to move Orsinium for Skyrim, but the material with which I'm familiar places Orsinium in High Rock.

Okay, the wiki says there have actually been like four Orsiniums, the first three all being in the same place in the Wrothgarian Mountains, rebuilt after being destroyed over and over. The fourth one was built in the fourth era, and is located in the Western Reach Mountains, between Hammerfell and Skyrim. Hence the confusion. We're both right!

[DigoDragon]

Okay, the wiki says there have actually been like four Orsiniums, the first three all being in the same place in the Wrothgarian Mountains, rebuilt after being destroyed over and over. The fourth one was built in the fourth era, and is located in the Western Reach Mountains, between Hammerfell and Skyrim. Hence the confusion. We're both right!

"When I first came here, this was all mountains. Everyone said I was daft to build a castle on the Wrothgarian Mountains, but I built in all the same, just to show them. It sank into the valley. So I built a second one. That sank into the valley. So I built a third. That burned down, fell over, then sank into the valley. But the fourth one stayed up!"

[Triaxx]

Forgot about that glitch. Knew there was a reason the one in the palace in Riften was always the last I snagged.

[Kareeah_Indaga]

Yeah, the thing about Orsinium is that it keeps getting conquered/invaded/destroyed - but the Orcs are stubborn and haven't given up on it, so they keep trying again and again.

[Illven]

Spoiler: Joining the guilds.

Show

Arrille handed me the package for a small fee, thank the gods he didn't open it. It was very classified material. Told me next time to make sure I was willing to sell and that I didn't need what I was selling anymore, because he couldn't be sure he wouldn't sell it himself in the future. After his, admittedly earned lecture, I decided to save myself some time and take the Silt strider back to Balmora.

Returning to Caius, I gave him the package that I had spent most of the previous day retrieving. As he opened it he sighed. I thought it was bad news, but he told me he was ordered to welcome me into the Blades. I suppose nearly losing the letter made for a terrible first impression.

He said that I was clearly wet behind the ears, and that I needed to gather more experience before becoming a Blades member. He suggested that I in the meantime work up a cover of being a Freelance adventurer, and specifically suggested that I check the Fighters guild and the Mages guild in town.

On my way to sign up, I heard that someone in town was corrupt. A man named Nolus Atrius. A legion commander had promised to eliminate this corruption, but people were unsure about what he would be able to do. Maybe I could figure something out later on.

Eydis Fireeye gave me my first fighter's guild quest. It wasn't glorious, someone had an infestation of rats in town. I was playing exterminator, but well. I had to start somewhere, I thought to myself. Giving permission by both the Fighter's guild and the mages guild I looted both equipment chests. Whatever I wouldn't use I could end up selling in town.

On my next round through the shops, I saw someone selling a crossbow! It's practically a proto-musket! I immediately brought it, and 100 bolts to go with it. I had my first freedom rifle!

Drarayne was happy to see me as soon as I entered and proclaimed by business, she stated that the rats were eating her designer pillows..... Designer pillows? I thought to myself before realizing that it was really none of my business, people collected weird stuff back home as well.

Okay. Three rats. Not exactly an equal match for me, but still a pain. I'm best adventurer. A handful of vermin are a danger to me..... Joy. In any case, Drarayne paid me for the work after I healed myself, and I reported back to Fireeye. She promoted me, and thanked me for my service.

Exploring the two guilds some more, I realized the mages guild had tutors that would help you in studying magic and inventing custom spells. A high elf aided me in making a healing spell that would heal me less, but that was easier for me to cast. So that it was less likely to fizzle. I then spent the rest of the day getting tutored in Alteration and Mysticism magic.

Interesting magic Alteration and Mysticism. Alteration was the study of the manipulation of the physical world, including such effects as allowing me to breathe water, and even attain the power of flight. Mysticism was the study of otherworldly forces. Allowing me access to telekinesis, and teleportation. Extra-planar effects.... Maybe somewhere there was the Mysticism spell to take me home....

[Balmas]

Spoiler: Mad Carl: Reason and Love Keep Little Company Together Nowadays

Show

I probably could have gone straight to the Duke and Duchess, if I'm honest. After all, that was what Sheogorath had ask--er, TOLD me to do. However, part of me wanted to chat up the locals, see if they had anything they wanted, things that only a traveling madman could provide. And I have to say, I was actually quite impressed. Bliss was as bright as Crucible was dull, but there didn't seem to be any major problems. A couple beggars, but no problems with the architecture, nothing to really worry about besides the fact that everyone here was crazy in one way or another.

Let's start with the Breton in Bliss, with bags under his eyes that you could have stored watermelons in. He was afraid to sleep indoors, or anywhere where there was a wall to crush him. Somehow, the brilliant idea of sleeping outdoors had never occurred to him, and he tasked me with finding him somewhere to sleep outside.

An orc in Crucible trailed a skinned hound behind him, but he was more worried about the Khajiit behind him. The Orc was willing to pay me if I could find a way to get rid of the Khajiit. When asked, the Khajiit responded that he'd gladly move to Bliss for a few coins; he wouldn’t be able to pet the Orc's pretty dog anymore, but that was life. The Orc was overjoyed to see the last of the Khajiit, despite the fact that he still hadn't moved from his spot, and insisted on one of his zombie dogs following me around for as long as it unlived. I wasn't a callous fellow, but suffice it to say that my nostrils insisted that we try to find a dangerous ruin for the skinned hound to play in, maybe with some sharp-object wielding friends.

After asking around, I found out that there was a homeless person, Uungor, who had a good place to sleep outside. Initially he was suspicious of me--which makes sense, when someone comes up to you and says, "Can I trade my comfy indoor bed for your sack in the midden?" After a bit of chatting and joking, and a bit of outright bribery, he trusted me enough to say that yea, I was probably alright, and so Amiable could have his outside spot. The breton in question was overjoyed, and handed me a scroll he'd been saving for when the walls inevitably collapsed on him, so he could dig his way out. I'd need to see about writing down copies of it.

A man named Hirrus wanted to meet me after dark, but as it was barely noon, I nodded and put it off to one side.

A shopkeeper in an ornate dress was preparing for an unnamed apocalypse of some sort, and wanted me to find some things for her: a ring of desiccation, the charming pants or some such name, and a ring of disintegration.

Luckily, one of them was in the next spot I visited: the museum of oddities. When I saw the title plaque hanging outside the shop, I had to stop and wonder what could possibly be considered odd by people who lived here, and I was slightly disappointed when it turned out to be nothing but the arm of an old guardian, the ring of desiccation itself, and a shrunken head from a race that was apparently eaten by Grummites. She was overjoyed with the bit of amber I brought, claiming that it looked just like Sheogorath's head. I didn't see the resemblance myself, but her paroxysms of glee made it easy to open the case with the ring of desiccation in it and scoop it into my pocket. I'd bring it back! I just needed to borrow it.

The next thing was the charming pants. I thought I'd seen a rather personable Bosmer wandering around. Fimmion spoke like he'd never learned about connecting words like "and." As such, his negotiation for a saWEEEEETroll was barely intelligible. Pants for sweetroll, got it. Luckily, there was one just lying around, where anyone could find it, behind two locked doors and hidden in a cupboard. As a result, Fimmion was only too glad to strip in the middle of the street. I got the pants, and he got to wander the sewage-strewn streets with his sweetroll in hand.

Apart from an Argonian who wanted some fork thingy, that mostly knocked things out in Crucible. They were… Well, admittedly insane. But insane in a mostly harmless way. Good folk, if a little crazy.

That left us to see about the good duke and duchess.

********

Thadon, I found in the garden of the house of Mania. His painting bore little resemblance to the orange and blue mushrooms of the garden, but I figured that since I had slightly less artistic talent than the mushroom, I wasn't one to judge. The duke's clothing, however, insulted the very idea of fashion, even when compared to the garish clothes that were considered finery in New Sheoth. It was all I could do not to retch down his massive funnel collar, and don't get me started on his crown. It looked like somebody had taken a bucket, strapped a stool to the bottom, and inverted it so it could stay on his overblown head.

Oh wait. From the way he was staring at me, I'd obviously missed some conversational cue. In my defense, you haven't seen his crown.

"Sorry, what?"

"You couldn't imagine how long I've been waiting for you," he singsonged, his voice rising and falling like a boat at the dock. "So little to do and so much time. Hmm. Could you, in fact, imagine just how long I've been waiting? I don't think you could, but I might be wrong. I might also not care. Which is it?"

Um. If this was the Duke of Mania, then I felt sorry for the citizens. His eyes sank into his face, shot red, and he twitched like a rabbit caught in a trap. Oh right. Answering. "Ummm. You… Don't care? I guess?"

"Don't I?" He pondered that, his brow furrowing like earth behind a plow. "I thought I did… But then I also thought that you'd be heavier." Should I be insulted at that? "Look at you, you're light as a chair! How DO you walk around like that?"

Simple. I got really good at running away from things that wanted to kill me.

"It's all the same to me, either way," he stated, falling to his seat. "All of it. Nothing is right, without the chalice.
Have you ever used it? No, of course not. You simply must! You just have to try it. It'll change your world, expand your horizons. Contracting leads to expanding, you know. Well, most of the time."

"What are you bla--er, talking about?"

"The chalice! One of my favorite toys!" He burst to his feet. Does wonders for creativity. Well, not by itself, but it helps. Those Elytra, clever little bugs that they are. Is this making sense? Look, you eat the Felldew, then use the Chalice, and find the world a much brighter and happier place. Honest. But I don't have it. So I can't eat Felldew, because that would just be bad. I mean, really bad. Damn her!"

"Who?"

"We hold on to fleeting things even as we slip. I knew, and yet I indulged myself anyway. I indulged her a fair bit, too. Hee hee! It was passion, it was... forbidden. Oh, the things that would be said if word got out. That made it all the more delicious. From Dementia's own court, no less. Scandalous! Fatal, perhaps. But passion makes no accommodation for self-preservation."

Oh gods. "You were schtupping Syl!"

He glared at me. "Well, aren't you the clever one. Mind you don't get too full of yourself, you might explode."

"I'll keep it in mind. How about you tell me what actually happened?"

"Opposites repel, strangely enough. All that pleasure and pain locked away now, as if it never happened. Unfortunately, the Chalice is locked away as well. I have no wish to retrieve it myself, but fetching it might do you some good. My head is positively throbbing now... can you see it? I need to lie down. Find someone to tell you the rest of the story. Get the Chalice."

And with that, he continued his painting.

********

Well, that made things a bit more complicated. Court intrigue, that could only be good news.

And, true to form, Syl told me that there was a conspiracy to kill her, and promptly declared me the grand inquisitor. For all intents and purposes, that means I have carte blanche to have the Dementia Court's torturer follow me around and figure out what was going on.

I had to question how much of a conspiracy there could be, when the only people in the court room were Syl herself and one of the Dark Seducer guards. Even her chamberlain, Kithlan, seemed to have been banished to wait outside the main doors. Luckily, he was just the person I wanted to see. Without the slightest bit of torture, he told me that A) one of the courtiers, Anya, had been more nervous than normal of late, and B) the Chalice of Reversal could be found in Dunroot Burrow in northern Mania.

Anya, on the other hand, was a tougher nut to crack. "I… I don't know anything. About anything!" she stuttered. "I'm sorry… I can't help you."

I scowled. She was holding a thousand septims' worth of bribe money, and I'd just spent a good half hour buttering her up. "You know what, I don't believe you." I snapped, and Herdir stepped forward. Lightning burst from his fingers, and a slightly charred Anya fell to her knees.

""Please. I am not involved... I didn't do anything! They wanted me to get them close to Syl, but I wouldn't abide them!"

"Who?! Who was it?"

"I... I don't know, not for sure. Ma'zaddha came to me, said that Syl needed to be removed, and that I was supposed to help them, or else. I would be far too afraid to turn on Syl. But I couldn't turn them in, either, because they might come after me. Please, you must do something!"

"Tell me everything, and I might not tell Syl what's going on. "It was Ma'zaddha. He said he was working on behalf of someone else. He told me I needed to help him, or there would be repercussions. I didn't know what to do. Turning on Syl could cost me my life, but if I don't help, what will Ma'zaddha do to me? You must do something!"

"Anything else?" I hated to put the screws to anyone like this, but l needed to do it. Not least because both Sheogorath and Syl had told me not to come back without an answer.

"I've told you all I know. It was Ma'zaddha... I don't know anything more, I swear it!"

Well then, Ma'zaddha needed to answer some questions.

********

Herdir blasted the khajiit again, but the cat still sneered. "You don't have any proof," he hissed. "But if you see any of my things, please bring them to me."

Well, I'd have to find some proof, then wouldn't I? After all, torture didn’t bother me quite as much as I knew it should, but sometimes it just wasn't effective. Pity.

While talking with, and occasionally having Herdir torture, the residents of the city, I finally found a blacksmith who could temper the madness ore that I'd been finding. The armor she produced had little appeal to me, both for its frankly appalling looks and because it was heavy armor, but the sword she made had a lovely jagged edge right near the hild. I could work with that. "I guarantee the keen edge of each sword I craft," Cutter boasted. "I test them on myself before selling them."

I could believe it. Bloodstains, both fresh and rusty brown, coated the floor near the forge, and the bosmer's arms looked to be more scar than flesh.

"What can you tell me of Ma'zaddha?" I asked, giving the sword a test swing. Oooh, I loved the way it whistled.

"I'm not one to gossip," she said flatly. "I have nothing to say."

"I think Herdir doesn't believe you, does he?"

TZOTTT!

She shook, but grinned throughout. "You think I can't take that kind of pain? I've had worse. I won't tell you anything. There's nothing going on!"

Oh, a little masochist here, huh? "Herdir?

Herdir's fingers glowed once more, and Cutter fell to her knees.

"Just stop it! Ma'zaddha and Nelrene... They meet in the street during the night. No one knows what they talk about. That's it. That's what you want, isn't it? Now leave me alone!"

"If your rumors don't turn up anything good, I'll know where to come back," I threatened, and swept out of the shop.

********

Night always felt heavier in Crucible than they did anywhere else in the Shivering Isles. The stench of the raw sewage, left to rot in fetid streams, felt like it had a physical presence. Shadows danced and played in ways that had nothing to do with light. The maze of narrow stairs and wooden passages all creaked with the passage of Ma'zaddha's padded paws, and the Khajhiit peered owlishly around for any sign of life.

Where was that blasted seducer? The less time he had to sit around, the less chance there was that they'd get caught.

"Have you had any luck in persuading Anya to join our cause?" Ma'zaddha spun at the sibilant voice behind him, and glowered at a smirking Nelrene. Dammit, why did she do that? Did she want to see his tail puff up like that?

Indignantly, he huffed. "No, that blasted Inquisitor got to her. We'll need to find someone else."

"See that you do so immediately," Nelrene snarled. "This is the one task which you were assigned. If you cannot complete it, you will be removed. Are we clear?"

Ma'zaddha took a quick step back, and blurted out, "I will, I will! I want to see Syl dead just as much as you do! She can't be allowed to survive, after what she's done. It's despicable."

Nelrene looked like she was considering whether to say more, but sighed instead. "Good. I shall expect a progress report soon. And keep your head down. The Inquisitor must not become involved."

With that, Nelrene spun on her heel, and stalked off to the stairs up to the palace. Ma'zaddha took a deep breath, and scowled at his poor, abused tail. It had puffed up to thrice its normal size, and he took a few seconds to caress it, soothing it back to normal. Then, he headed back home. Busy day of treason, sedition, and regicide tomorrow.

I sat up from my position behind the wall where they'd met, and considered whether I ought to use a different word for murder of someone who was technically not a king. Eh, it probably wasn't important.

********

"That was an interesting conversation you just had," I observed as I slipped into Ma'zaddha's bedroom.

If you've never seen a frightened Khajiit, I highly recommend the experience. Their tails positively explode, their ears jump towards the sky, and everything about them tries to be bigger. Good luck with that.

His eyes flicked from Herdin to me, and he almost said something before his cowardice won out, and he collapsed into a sobbing pile of fur. "I… I… It's for the good of Crucible," he wailed. "Surely you must see that! Please, spare me! I'll do anything!"

Awww, the poor puddytat was caught in a trap. "How's about we start with telling me why you're doing, and letting me judge whether it's actually for the good of Crucible?"

He looked frantically at the torturer behind me. "You… you don't know, do you? She's kept it a secret even from you! She and Thadon… They've been meeting in secret! They've been doing things to each other. Consorting!" He latched onto my armor and clung to it. I never thought I'd sneer in disgust before, but this was close. "You understand me? It cannot be permitted! She must be sto--"

"I know."

Ma'zaddha's jaw dropped, as did the rest of him. "You…"

"I know. And I don't care. Far as I can see, the land would be better if the lot of you were all part of the same group. And I don't care how long I have to torture you, you're going to tell us who's behind it, because it sure as hell isn't some snivelling kitty like you."

Ma'zaddha fell back harder than if I'd slapped him. "I… I don't know, besides Nelrene! She's taking orders from someone, but won't tell me who. If I find out, will you promise to spare me?"

"I will make no such promise."

"Okay, okay," he hissed. "I'll get the names, and then you'll see. It will be worth it, I pormise you! Meed me in my house tomorrow at midnight. I'll have information for you. Just please spare me!"

Herdir left Ma'zaddha with a sneer as we left. "I'm going out of the city," I stated without looking at him. "You shall return to Syl until I return and tell you that I have need of you." The torturer nodded obsequiously, and let me head out.

********

Now, I wish I could claim that all of the cruelty there was an effect of the city, of dementia getting to me. And maybe it was. Maybe that's what Sheogorath was talking about, when he mentioned how it was important that the two halves stay separate. It certainly didn't seem like myself to casually torture passersby on the street just because they said they didn't know anything about a conspiracy. Everyone was a suspect, everyone was a target.

I had to admit, though, that once I saw how effective torture was, I was somewhat loath to try cajoling people again.

Luckily, I didn't have to think about that. I cut east across the swamp, and came across a tree-cavern containing zealots and statues. It seemed like a fairly straight-forward area, with only one real pathway to go. This turned out to be another one of those ruins with a suicide's remains. Gadenery Ralvel… where have I heard that name before? I'd need to be more careful when I go through ruins; if it weren't for the rays of light gleaming through the false wall panel, I wouldn't have known to look around for the buttons to open the wall.

Dunroot Burrow… Kithlan had told me that I'd find the Duke's Chalice of Reversal in here. What he hadn't mentioned was that the entire burrow was sealed by some invincible membrane that Umbra couldn't pierce and fire couldn't burn. I frowned, and turned to the pile of dead Elytra that I'd had to kill. One of them had been carrying a bit of green powder, and hadn't Kithlan mentioned something about the Elytra being immune to Felldew?

I groaned, and huffed the Felldew in one snort, and found out what it meant to hear colors.

********

NEVER AGAIN.

I'm going to find all the felldew in the world, and I'm going to burn it. Then I'm going to take the ashes, and give the duke a friggin' Felldew enema. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

Dunroot Burrow was full of nothing but Elytra. The only ones that really presented a problem were the matrons, as they were bigger than me, and had a larger reach while attacking faster than I could with my longsword. I could handle that, if every other Elytra in the damn place weren't also a matron.

And of course, the entire thing was compounded by the fact that while Felldew makes you feel good--really good, euphoric even--the good feelings only lasted for maybe a minute and a half at best, after which I felt weak, stupid, like the entire world was on my shoulders. Each time I got a new dose, I had to consider whether to take it, or reserve it for my next painful encounter. By the time I actually found the damned chalice, I was hauling a good fifteen dozes just because I didn't want to use them. And since the Chalice made it so that I could avoid the negative effects, I never would.

And the cave system stretched on and on! Like a maze, but less fun! I was actually pretty massively ticked off when I found that the exit, where the druggies had come in and out was unlocked and all of fifty feet from the entrance.

Hopefully, since I had killed the Elytra that produced the Felldew, I could just hold on to it until Il Duce was willing to abdicate to get his fix.

Also, Sheogorath can kiss my ass if this is what he means by "get to know both courts." This is not worth it.

********

Milchar was the next stop on my way back to New Sheoth. While Dunroot Barrow was a cave system, this was pure ruins, winding and turning around each other. Well, I say that it was pure ruins, but that isn't strictly true. As I wandered through, I found that four separate ruins all connected to one massive cavern dominated by a tree large enough to fit a mansion inside it.

The item I wanted, the ring of disintegration, was found in the fourth ruin. I say ruin, but it was really only one large ring--a frozen urn sat in the center of the room, surrounded by three empty fire urns.

Perversely, fire did not unfreeze the urn. It took me maybe three minutes to notice a platform with a torch in it, and another minute to figure out why it slipped through my fingers. The torch itself bore an engraving boasting that none could claim it, but all could hold it. A bit of telekinesis proved that while all could hold it, I wouldn't have to. And a few laps around the room saw the three braziers around the urn lit, and the urn open. I had to wonder who created this security system, but waved it off as another example of the Shivering Isles not needing to make sense.
On the way home, I destroyed--shut off?--three of the crystals of order that Haskill had told me about earlier. If fed three hearts of order, it would shut down. Haskill failed to mention that the priests of order around the towers also had to be dead, or they would repower the tower.

********

When I got back to town, it was nearly midnight. I ran around and did some errands--the shopkeep got her ring, and I finally met up with Hirrus. Hirrus had an… odd request. He was depressed, if such could be said of anyone here. His life was empty, and his dreams full of death and decay. But he couldn't commit suicide, or he'd end up on the Hill of Suicides. As such, he wanted me to off him in a creative way. I shrugged, and accepted the job. Not like the place can get any weirder.

And now that it was midnight, I could check on Ma'zaddha. It had been more than the one day he'd requested, but that just meant that he had no excuse for not having my names.

Well, no excuse but one, because he was dead in his house. Damn. So much for that lead. Except for one thing: he'd left a key to his cupboard, and upstairs in said cupboard, that meant I had some evidence I could use against Nelrene.

She initially refused to answer, until I showed her my proof. Then, you'd be amazed how quickly she caved and pointed to Muurine.

Muurine herself gave herself up with relatively little fanfare. I didn't even have to torture her!

No, that privilege fell to Syl. The execution was almost a mercy.

I was stripped of my title of Inquisitor, and knocked down to a mere courtier of the Dementia court. And of course, Thadon was only too glad to be able to get his druggie groove on again, and named me a courtier of Mania. I hoped he choked on his Felldew. And that meant I could finally get my next job from Sheogorath.

********

When I stepped into the court of the Daedric Prince, I stopped halfway in the door. The room wasn't quite as austere as I remembered. A floating crystal to the left, with… the Chalice? How did that get here? And the other half held a mockup of the Gatekeeper's head, and a cage full of lightning like the one in which Muurine had died. Was this about me? If so, why?

Sheogorath called over to me as I held the replica of the Gatekeeper's head. "So you've experienced both shades of madness. Wonderful! You seem fulfilled. Full of fill! Bursting at the seams. Seamless."

"I'll pretend that I understood that. What is this?"

He waved away the question, but I thought I caught a hit of a smile on Haskill's face.

"Now, to the meat of your endeavor," Sheogorath continued on, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "The crux of the situation, the reason for your being here, and the likely cause of your death!"

Say what?

"You'll be stopping the Greymarch. Altering the course of events, breaking the cycle. A fly in the ointment. A new cause for a different effect. We're going to change things. No… This time, things will be different."

Okay, that was worrisome.

"You'll be my champion," he continued. "You'll grow powerful! You'll grow to be… me!"

"Say what?"

"Prince of madness!" Sheogorath beamed. "A new shogorath! Or you'll die trying. I love that about you."

"B-but how?" I stuttered. "This makes no sense, even for you! How in the earth could I do that? How could I become a daedra, first of all?"

"A fair question," he acknowledged. "You won't, really. At least, I don't think so. But you'll have power. My power. Try not to lose it, it's a pain to replace.

"But, for all intents and purposes, you'll be Me. A Me to fight the Him. Since I won't be around. It's simple, really. If you don't think about it."

"But… But how? And why? Why me?"

"Because you seem a nice enough sort," Sheogorath said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "And you've made it this far. And if you don't, I'll swallow your soul and vomit it into the Everfilling Chamberpot of the Ageless! But mostly? Because I asked nicely."

"You make a good argument," I swallowed. Sheogorath was asking. Things must have been more serious than I realized. Then something dawned on me. "You won't be here? Where could you be that's more important than fighting your arch-enemy?"

"Not here. Didn't I say that? I'm never here when Jyggalag walks. It's one of the rules." Sheogorath shook his head. "I've told you too much for now. Listen to me prattle on, I can see your mortal brain straining. We'll talk more later."

Vaguely, I heard Sheogorath telling me about lighting a holy flame in Cylarne, but black was creeping into my vision at an alarming rate. I guess he was right about mortal minds straining, because I don't remember much else after that.

[DigoDragon]

Spoiler: Joining the guilds.

Show

On my next round through the shops, I saw someone selling a crossbow! It's practically a proto-musket! I immediately brought it, and 100 bolts to go with it. I had my first freedom rifle!

Drarayne was happy to see me as soon as I entered and proclaimed by business, she stated that the rats were eating her designer pillows..... Designer pillows? I thought to myself before realizing that it was really none of my business, people collected weird stuff back home as well.

How well do crossbows work? Are they that good? :3

Heh, Designer pillows just seems weird in general with this setting.

Spoiler: Mad Carl: Reason and Love Keep Little Company Together Nowadays

Show

I groaned, and huffed the Felldew in one snort, and found out what it meant to hear colors.

********

NEVER AGAIN.

I'm going to find all the felldew in the world, and I'm going to burn it. Then I'm going to take the ashes, and give the duke a friggin' Felldew enema. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

LOL! Hilarious experience there. :D I recently did a quest in New Vegas that made me... well not quite hear colors, but it was an annoying saturation trip. Yeah, burning it all seems like a valid idea.

Spoiler: Mad Carl

Show

When I stepped into the court of the Daedric Prince, I stopped halfway in the door. The room wasn't quite as austere as I remembered. A floating crystal to the left, with… the Chalice? How did that get here? And the other half held a mockup of the Gatekeeper's head, and a cage full of lightning like the one in which Muurine had died. Was this about me? If so, why?

Sheogorath called over to me as I held the replica of the Gatekeeper's head. "So you've experienced both shades of madness. Wonderful! You seem fulfilled. Full of fill! Bursting at the seams. Seamless."

"I'll pretend that I understood that. What is this?"

He waved away the question, but I thought I caught a hit of a smile on Haskill's face.

"Now, to the meat of your endeavor," Sheogorath continued on, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "The crux of the situation, the reason for your being here, and the likely cause of your death!"

Say what?

"You'll be stopping the Greymarch. Altering the course of events, breaking the cycle. A fly in the ointment. A new cause for a different effect. We're going to change things. No… This time, things will be different."

Okay, that was worrisome.

"You'll be my champion," he continued. "You'll grow powerful! You'll grow to be… me!"

"Say what?"

"Prince of madness!" Sheogorath beamed. "A new shogorath! Or you'll die trying. I love that about you."

"B-but how?" I stuttered. "This makes no sense, even for you! How in the earth could I do that? How could I become a daedra, first of all?"

"A fair question," he acknowledged. "You won't, really. At least, I don't think so. But you'll have power. My power. Try not to lose it, it's a pain to replace.

"But, for all intents and purposes, you'll be Me. A Me to fight the Him. Since I won't be around. It's simple, really. If you don't think about it."

"But… But how? And why? Why me?"

"Because you seem a nice enough sort," Sheogorath said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "And you've made it this far. And if you don't, I'll swallow your soul and vomit it into the Everfilling Chamberpot of the Ageless! But mostly? Because I asked nicely."

"You make a good argument," I swallowed. Sheogorath was asking. Things must have been more serious than I realized. Then something dawned on me. "You won't be here? Where could you be that's more important than fighting your arch-enemy?"

"Not here. Didn't I say that? I'm never here when Jyggalag walks. It's one of the rules." Sheogorath shook his head. "I've told you too much for now. Listen to me prattle on, I can see your mortal brain straining. We'll talk more later."

Vaguely, I heard Sheogorath telling me about lighting a holy flame in Cylarne, but black was creeping into my vision at an alarming rate. I guess he was right about mortal minds straining, because I don't remember much else after that.

Sheogorath encounters are never disappointing. XD

[Aeson]

How well do crossbows work? Are they that good?

Not sure how serious a question this is, but in my opinion crossbows are among the best ranged weapons in Morrowind. If I recall correctly, crossbows have approximately the same rate of fire as fully-drawn bows; Steel Crossbows are roughly comparable with basic Long Bows and Dwarven Crossbows are roughly comparable with Bonemold Long Bows, and on top of that the common iron bolt is at least on par with if not better than any arrow short of a Glass, Ebony, or Daedric arrow.

[Illven]

Not sure how serious a question this is, but in my opinion crossbows are among the best ranged weapons in Morrowind. If I recall correctly, crossbows have approximately the same rate of fire as fully-drawn bows; Steel Crossbows are roughly comparable with basic Long Bows and Dwarven Crossbows are roughly comparable with Bonemold Long Bows, and on top of that the common iron bolt is at least on par with if not better than any arrow short of a Glass, Ebony, or Daedric arrow.

An answer, as far as I'm aware Dwarven crossbows have a better avarage damage then even Daderic longbows.

Right now Mary is using the imperial variety but it's still I think alot better then anything else she could have.