Madgod Options

[Darkness Eternal]

Crucible, never has there been a more wretched hive of scum and villainy! Though the rats on a stick do seem deliciously amazing! I loved the mention of some of the other realms! Quagmire's and Peryties(sp?) arm Pits.

The descriptions, as always, was great. You painted the demented side of the city! I freaking love Cutter! The bloody promises of a new gear has be dancing in anticipation! WOO! I did like how they escaped the fanged walls, that was something new and unexpected. Our gladiator is in for a hell of a ride unlike the which he has ever witnessed in Tamriel! But first . . . he needs to sleep at the inn, along with his lady friend. . I kid, I know it is too soon. She's just a friend, after all!

The artwork is beautiful by the way, I remember checking them out months ago. RIP, Adam! He was such a talented artist!

[Darkness Eternal]

Crucible, never has there been a more wretched hive of scum and villainy! Though the rats on a stick do seem deliciously amazing! I loved the mention of some of the other realms! Quagmire's and Peryties(sp?) arm Pits.

The descriptions, as always, was great. You painted the demented side of the city! I freaking love Cutter! The bloody promises of a new gear has be dancing in anticipation! WOO! I did like how they escaped the fanged walls, that was something new and unexpected. Our gladiator is in for a hell of a ride unlike the which he has ever witnessed in Tamriel! But first . . . he needs to sleep at the inn, along with his lady friend. . I kid, I know it is too soon. She's just a friend, after all!

The artwork is beautiful by the way, I remember checking them out months ago. RIP, Adam! He was such a talented artist!

[mALX]

*

Indoril - great name!

they just get bad press for Mehrunes Dagon working them into a state during the Oblivion Crisis; they're really not that bad, usually."

ROFL!!! Suuure! Lol.

Kallix the Nice Dremora

Still, I have to look at this and think of Roy (of Siegfried & Roy), or that lady whose pet ape of twenty years (that she bathed, slept, and drank champagne with) had a sudden change of tune one day - or the "Bear Man" and his new bride. Domestication can give you a measure of trust, but that beast is always inside and one never knows what day/time/incident will set it off. It is the way of nature to revert to its own (and usually at the worst possible time).


I'm running a chapter behind, don't have time to read two today. Great write !!!


*

[Colonel Mustard]

DE (and your identical-in-every-way twin): Thanks to the both of you!

I'm still going for the whole inter-realm trade thing (Mania would probably be more likely to swap goods with Sanguine, for example) and that seemed like a prime example to show it off, and a rat on a stick seemed like quite a Shivering Isles kind of snack. I do believe it's Peryite, by the way, and while we're on the topic I've got some exciting strains of Ebola all for a very reasonable price...

And Cutter was great; for a self-harming, psychotic masochist she was easily one of the most fun characters I've written so far. The alley walls, on the other hand, were more there for a reminder that this is the Isles and here more than most places, things can turn violent at the drop of a hat. Even with the buildings.

And It's a pity Adam passed away; it's thanks to his sketches I've actually started to develop a bit of an interest in Surrealist artwork, and he was a truly talented individual.


mALX: Yeah, I'll admit Haella is somewhat biased in her opinion on the matter of the Oblivion Crisis, though I'm not sure most of the people in the Daedric Realms would have been that upset about the Crisis, really; better Mehrunes invades somewhere they don't live rather than try and muscle in on their territory.

The animal analogy doesn't really work all that well for Daedra, though, does it? They are, as a general rule of thumb, largely self-aware (I'm unsure about Clannfear's and Hungers), sentient beings who are as intelligent as humans and are entirely capable of making their own choices. That example then only really works if they suffer from anger management issues, and seeing as people suffer from them as well, I'm not sure it's the best one.

And enjoy the next chapter when you have time for it!

[mALX]

DE (and your identical-in-every-way twin): Thanks to the both of you!

SPEW!!! I scrolled up to see what you were talking about, ROFL !!!

The animal analogy doesn't really work all that well for Daedra, though, does it? They are, as a general rule of thumb, largely self-aware (I'm unsure about Clannfear's and Hungers), sentient beings who are as intelligent as humans and are entirely capable of making their own choices. That example then only really works if they suffer from anger management issues, and seeing as people suffer from them as well, I'm not sure it's the best one.

Part of that was written with (a very twisted sense of humor) - but only part. Being capable of making their own choices - that is biased by each person/species individually. What one may never number in their choices may be considered a standard option by another. I'm relieved to hear that Kallix won't turn, he must be like Fawkes in Fallout 3, and can actually be trusted then. That will help me going forward because I won't always be eyeing every move Kallix makes suspiciously, lol.


*

[Zalphon]

This was a great chapter; I loved the Marketplace of the Mad

[Colonel Mustard]

This was a great chapter; I loved the Marketplace of the Mad

Or as I like to call it, the Bazaar of the Bizarre!

Also, mALX, I apologise for posting an argument that, looking back on it, was somewhat incoherent (I was rather tired when I was writing it). But long story short, not quite animals; influenced by their nature but still able to make choice. Just like humans are, but they're wired slightly differently. Though you have seem to have somehow sifted that point of there anyway, so, yeah. Good work, I doubt I coud have done that.

[King Coin]

Meeting the dunmer trader and her dremora was a really cool touch and a great way to show the rest of the journey to the city without just skipping over it.

The description of the Crucible was brilliant, and the random danger of the walls eating people very fitting for the realm of the mad. Cutter was certainly interesting.

[TheBrume]

Wow.Just read through this. And the only thing I can think to say is "wow".This is brilliant. I've never read an SI fan fic before, but this is excellent. I look forward to reading more of this.

[Colonel Mustard]

KC: I wanted to do more than just have 'they then walked to Crucible' and having the trader from Moonshadow both let me do that and also explore the idea of what other Daedric realms might be like. And that carnivorous alleyway has certainly caused a bit of comment, hasn't it? I honestly didn't think it would cause such a stir.

TheBrume: Thank ye kindly, good sir! Do you hope you enjoy the rest.


To everyone reading, my apologies for this taking so long; I spent the last two weeks being afflicted by a case of epic writer's block, hence why this was so slow coming. I'm not sure this part is entirely up to my usual standards, and it was more written to try and break through the block than anything else. I might come back to it later and touch it up then.



Chapter 13-Lord of the Deranged

“So you’re telling me that everything in Crucible has an opposite in Bliss, and vice versa?” Carnius asked as a colourful procession from the Sisterhood of Immolation danced past them, chanting and crying in praise of what he guessed was Sheogorath. Fireballs arced from the fingers of some, while others whirled spheres of flame around them on strings and staffs, all the while accompanied with drumming. “Like there’s the Frozen Brethren in Crucible for the Sisterhood of Immolation, or the different breeds of Rayat I’ve seen.”

“It’s the case with the entire Isles,” Salyan replied, watching them pass along the street. She had said it was the best that he avoided getting in the way of their processions. “Everything in Mania has a counterpart in Dementia.”

“So you mean there’s an…an anti-Salyan somewhere in Dementia?” Carnius asked. “Somebody who hates music and is always miserable, that sort of thing?”

“It’s not always that specific,” Salyan said. With the procession now passed, she hurried across the street, Carnius following as she headed along a road lined with pillared and domed buildings of golden stone, decorated with flowers and flowing silk banners. “But the thing about the Islands is that they aren’t really so much of a place as they are a kind of metaphor for Sheogorath; they’re split down the middle, reflecting the same way he varies between manic and demented moods.”

The streets of Bliss that they were walking down were much more spacious than those of Crucible, but something about them put Carnius off; where Crucible was squalid and impoverished, Bliss flaunted its wealth and opulence, bright morning sunlight glaring off the ornamentation that decorated each house. For all its hostile strangeness and carnivorous architecture, Carnius had found Crucible more welcoming than Bliss; he’d felt more like he was at home there, while Bliss seemed to sneer at him all the time. And the golden-armoured guards that patrolled the streets certainly did as much.

“Is the palace that far?” Carnius asked as they passed through a bazaar packed with people of all races. The air here had an overwhelming stench of spices, perfumes, foodstuffs and other things that he could not identify.

“Not too far,” Salyan replied. She disappeared from view as she slipped around a figure covered in head to tow in sashes of red and purple silk, reappearing again as Carnius stepped around it. He knocked into it, and muttered a quick apology over his shoulder as the person in question let off a string of curses at him in a language he didn’t understand.

Salyan cut through a street leading out of it, Carnius following. The road they found was lined with buildings on one side, the other a thick wall of hard stone rising skywards, blocking the view of whatever lay behind it. Salyan lead Carnius up along the street, to a series of steps up to the wall leading to a gate. Two guards, women in golden armour, were standing on either side of it.

“What is your business, mortals” one of them asked, leaning forward on the spear she carried. Now that he thought about it, both of them looked familiar, but Carnius was unable to place them.

“We seek audience with the Lord Sheogorath,” Salyan said. “My companion, Carnius Hackelt, has been bidden to meet him by the Madgod’s Chamberlain, and we also bear news of a possible threat to the Isles.”

The two guards exchanged a glance before one of them said; “Wait here.” She opened the gate and stepped through, shutting it behind her and leaving Carnius and Salyan to stand under the stony, imperious gaze of the other guard. They were left to wait for a minute, before the gate opened once more as her comrade returned.

“Haskill says that you are permitted to speak to the Madgod,” she said. “Follow me.”

She lead them into a courtyard, two sides lined with pillars, walking along a pathway that cut through a carefully kept lawn towards large building that occupied the other side. The courtyard and the structure bordering, Carnius noticed after a moment, was split in two; lawn on the other half was untended and sported twisting fungi and moulds instead of grass, and the ornamental stream of clear, pure water that they passed over on their side was a stinking quagmire on the other. Even the building, a huge, vaulted edifice decorated with banners, gargoyles and statues, with a crystal-topped tower reaching high into the sky at its back, was half constructed from the golden stone typical of Bliss and the grey of Crucible.

The golden-armoured guard opened a door on the Manic side of the palace and lead them into a large entrance. Like its outside, the innards too were split, with a luxurious red carpet running along one side that was lit with braziers burning with a crimson flame and a threadbare blue rug along the other. She pointed at a set of couches and recliners on the right hand side of the hall.

“Wait there,” she said. “You will be called for shortly.”

She swept out, and Carnius watched her go with a shake of his head.

“Well she was nice,” he remarked.

“The Golden Saints can be a little superior with mortals,” Salyan conceded. “But they’re still better than the Dark Seducers.”

“I’m sure they are,” Carnius nodded.

They waited, the only other people in the hall a Golden Saint and a purple-skinned woman Carnius guessed was a Dark Seducer standing on either side of the doorway at the far end. Salyan leant back in her seat a little, and said; “You’re not much of a drinker, are you? You only had one ale at the inn, last night. I was surprised.”

“I’m a not a great person to be around when I’m drunk,” Carnius replied.

“Why’s that?” Salyan asked.

“Get angry, most of the time, try and pick fights or hit someone,” Carnius said. “Something I got from my dad. I find it’s better not to tempt fate.”

Salyan nodded.

“I wonder if Sheogorath will want to hear me play,” she said.

Carnius blinked at the sudden change in conversation topic.

“It would be good exposure if I played for his entire court,” Salyan continued. “I could earn some coin that way.”

She frowned, and added; “And we’re actually going to meet the Madgod himself. I didn’t think I’d ever do that, you know. Thank you, Carnius.”

“It’s not a problem,” the gladiator said. “I need to be here anyway, after all.”

The doors at the far end of the hall swung open with a creak and an pronouncement from an all too familiar voice of; “Oh, you brought a friend.”

“Haskill,” Carnius said, standing up. “I see you’re well.”

“Indeed,” the chamberlain replied. “His Lordship awaits you in the throne room, if you will please follow me.”

“Lead the way,” Salyan said, already on her feet. Haskill nodded and stepped back through, the two travellers heading along the hallway. Salyan glanced over at Carnius and grinned, hissing; “We’re actually seeing Sheogorath!”

Carnius nodded as they stepped through into the throne room of the Madgod. Like the palace’s antechamber, this room too was split in twain, straddling the border between Mania and Dementia. Its end was curved and domed, but that was not what caught the eye of Carnius and Salyan; what drew the majority of their attention was the throne, a pedestal of golden marble veined with grey, ten feet in height with arms and a back protruding from its top. From a spigot on either side, a stream flowed, one runnel a channel of clear, pure water, the other a thick brown slurry. A stone snake coiled around it, tip of its tail touching the floor and its head serving as a footrest for the bearded man in purple silk finery that sat upon the throne. Sheogorath; that was beyond doubt.

“Well look who has arrived!” the Daedric Prince of madness exclaimed in a cheerful tone as the two entered, clapping his hands together. “The famous slayer of the Gatekeeper. And a friend who is not, as far as I know, famous. Are you famous, young lady?”

“Not yet, my lord,” Salyan said. She attempted to curtsey, before remembering she wasn’t wearing a dress and converting it into a hasty bow. “I am merely a humble maker of music.”

“I see,” Sheogorath said, leaning back in his throne. “Well then, seeing as you are not yet famous, would you be so good as to tell me your name?”

“Salyan Irrenius, my lord,” she said, raising her head.

“Salyan Irrenius My Lord, eh? Hmm!” Sheogorath said. He stood, balancing without effort on the head of the snake that was coiled around the throne. “Your friend here has caused quite a stir, you know. Killing the Gatekeeper and enraging a very dangerous, powerful mage in the process too. Took away a rather important defence for my Isles, too. Bad news, that.”

The snakes head moved with a grinding of stone, lowering Sheogorath to ground level. He hopped off, strode up to Carnius, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him face-to-face with surprising strength.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” the Madgod snarled, enraged amber eyes with slit pupils staring into the gladiator’s.

“You wanted it dead,” Carnius managed after a moment. “Otherwise you would have never invited people into the Isles but put it in their way. That was a test.”

Sheogorath was quiet for a few moments, squinting into Carnius’ gaze, which the Imperial kept as cool as he could while face staring down a Daecric Prince. His grip was released, and Sheogorath stepped back, clapping his hands.

“Well said, well said,” he exclaimed with a grin. “Why, I’m so pleased with that answer of yours I could rip Salyan Irrenius My Lord’s hair off and make it into a wig. Didn’t see my dear Relmyna getting quite so upset about the whole thing as she is now, but that’s more my fault than yours. Well done, you passed the test.”

“So what now?” Carnius said with a slow, cautious nod. “I’ve come here like you asked; what did you summon me for?”

“Because I need you,” Sheogorath said. “Well, not you in particular, but somebody who is capable and not from the Isles. Preferably with a good head on their shoulders. You killed the Gatekeeper, and that’s a start, certainly.”

“And what do you need me for?” Carnius asked.

“I need your help,” Sheogorath said. “It’s all a little complicated, but there’s trouble coming on the horizon and it’s trouble I’d rather avoid.”

“You mean the Greymarch?” Salyan asked. “It’s coming, and you want to stop it.”

“What makes you believe in that old story?” Sheogorath said, turning on the bard.

“I…we saw an Arbitrator be summoned,” Salyan said. “That’s one of the reasons we were here, to warn you.”

“An Arbitrator, you say?” Sheogorath asked. The mirth in his voice had suddenly fled. “You’re certain of this?”

“Definitely,” Salyan replied. “It was only summoned for a short time, but it managed to turn a whole band of Heretics into…something else. It ‘blessed’ them, it said.”

Sheogorath was silent, rocking back on his heels. He turned about from them, stepping away, before he said, more to himself than anyone else; “An Arbitrator here already. Deary deary me, that isn’t good news at all. He must have been planning too, while he was away. Or maybe when he was here last time. Probably when he was here last time, I suspect.”

He glanced around at his two visitors, and said; “You two are still here, then? Good. Well, this does complicate things; I thought I could take my time but it appears that time has taken us. Not much to waste, for either of you. So on to your first task; we need to secure the Isles now that the Gatekeeper is gone. At the moment, all sorts of riffraff are going to come through, and we don’t want that. So the two of you are going to put a stop to that.”

“Why?” Carnius asked.

“Why? Why? Why why, eh?” Sheogorath challenged, rounding on Carnius. “I’m a Daedric Prince, you know. And you are a little squishy mortal. You have to do what I say, you know.”

“No I don’t,” Carnius said. “What’s to stop me leaving this place? I don’t have anything here, after all.”

“That is a very, very selfish thing to say, young man, and frankly I am disappointed,” Sheogorath said after a moment’s silence.

“That still doesn’t mean I have to stay,” Carnius said. “What’s here for me, then? Why should I help you?”

“Well, I could say fame, fortune and renown, but I’m not sure you really strike me as the type to be all too interested in that,” Sheogorath said. “But what I do see in those eyes of yours there is more than a little regret; you’ve something you’d rather you hadn’t, and now you want to make up for it. And if you helped me, you would save an awful lot of innocent lives, and perhaps even a few things more important than that, and that should probably absolve you of whatever crime you committed. You’ll have a chance to put things right. I won’t claim to be good, Carnius, but I won’t claim to be evil, either and I do have good people here in my realm. If you want, think of these errands as working for them, not me.”

“Besides,” Salyan added. “I could probably do with your help doing this.”

Carnius glanced at the her with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, this is my home,” she said. “If you won’t do it, I still will. I still should.”

“Fine,” Carnius said. “I’ll help you, then.”

“Excellent!” Sheogorath said. “Now, as I said, we need to sort out first things first; keep the Isles safe from marauders and ne’er-do-wells. And for that, we need Xedilian!”

“What’s Xedilian?” Salyan asked.

“A trap,” Sheogorath said. “Or alternatively, a rehabilitation facility where I can make the aforementioned marauders and ne’er-do-wells into functional citizens of the Isles. Of course, with the Gatekeeper about, I never needed it and shut the place down, but with him gone, I need something else and Xedilian fits the bill. So get over there and reactivate it, would you?”

“How?” Carnius asked.

“Ah, good point, good point,” Sheogorath said. “Haskill, do you still have that book?”

“It’s right here, my lord,” the chamberlain said, pulling a slim volume from a pocket of his dark velvet jacket. “Assuming, of course, that these two will be able to read it.”

He got a glare from Salyan as he held it out, the Bard taking it and flipping it open at a random page.

“So how do get there?” she asked. “And do we need to pick up this Attenuator of Judgement on the way, or there, or what?”

“The Attenuator is right here,” Sheogorath said, holding out a hand. A staff topped with a glowing white crystal shimmered into being in his palm, and he passed it to Carnius. “As for Xedilian it’s…it’s somewhere in Dementia, I know that much. Hmm. Ask Sentinel, he should know.”

“Sentinel?” Carnius asked.

“Oh, he keeps an eye on things for me, so to speak,” Sheogorath said. “He’ll know where it is. His tower’s just around the back of the palace, Haskill will show you the way.”
“If I must,” Haskill said.

“Well, off you go,” Sheogorath said. “Time’s wasting, you two. Go on!”

The two of them dithered for a moment, before Haskill said; “You heard His Lordship; follow me.”

Sheogorath stepped back up onto the snake head, where it rested on the floor. It began to rise, carrying him back up to his throne. Haskill set off, and without much choice, Carnius and Salyan left, the bard stopping only a moment for a hasty bow before she followed the Chamberlain. He lead them out of a doorway at the back of the throne room, through several corridors, coming to a halt at another door.

“He is through there,” he said. “There is only one opening at the top, so I’m sure even you two will be able to work that one out.”

He left as Carnius opened the door to a round room dominated by a spiral stairwell. He looked up, and shook his head. They had a long climb ahead.

[TheBrume]

Excellent! The Mysterious Sentinel is finally revealed.
I like your own additions to the isles, like the Frozen Brethren, Sisters of Immolation and inter-Oblivion trade. It's a nice little touch which adds a lot to the story.

I eagerly await the next part.

[Darkness Eternal]

Sisterhood of Immolation. Sounds . . .dangerous. You made the Shivering Isles twice, possible thrice, as deadlier as the original concept of the game. Nice! You did tell the truth about the different sides; Mania and Dementia and explained how they contrast each other.

Quite the lovely descriptions of the courtyard and the interior of the palace as you went through, too. And at long last, we meet Sheogorath! This is awesome, indeed! You truly captured the Mad God's personality well, and added his natural dialogue. I look forward to seeing what is in store for Carnius and the Bard Lady.

Attenuator of Judgment, it is, huh! Let the adventure begin with the two! I foresee many insane things going to happen, some of might be troublesome for our duo! I loved this chapter!

[King Coin]

What I enjoyed the most about this one was the portrayal of Sheogorath. His changes from cheerful and joking to angry and brutal was well done. Haskill was delightfully dry and sarcastic as usual. I’m not quite sure what Haskill is. He looks like a person, but is he?

[McBadgere]

Fantastic!!...

Loved the whole duality to everything...

Sheagorath was funny as the proverbial...Brilliantly done there... ...

Loved the way that Carnius was slightly uncomfortable in Bliss, I felt a bit like that meself...Odd place... ...

Aaaaamywho...Looking forward to much more questing...And then some Sentinel action too!!...

Aaand not one Mike Oldfield in sight!!... ...

Absolutely nice one matey!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

[Zalphon]

When do we get another chapter, Colonel?

[Colonel Mustard]

Hello everyone

Apologies for this taking so long, and for my general absence from the forum, but I should, hopefully, be able to stick around a bit longer this time and actually get a more consistent output of chapters, as well as catch up on all the updates for other people's stories that I've missed.

TheBrume: At last indeed! I took my time about it, didn't it?

One of the things I enjoy in writing fan fiction is adding extra detail to the worlds I write about, and the Isles is ripe with potential for all sorts of interesting factions, groups and practises. Not to mention details themselves are one of the most important things to add to a story.

DE: I've always imagined the Isles to be a very dangerous place, which is something I wanted to reflect in the story (and I hope I've done so already, too!); the Sisterhood of Immolation were actually one of the first ideas I had when planning the story, and I liked the idea of a pyromaniacal Hari Krishna-style religion so much I knew that it had to come in somewhere.

And I enjoyed writing Sheogorath a lot; he's one of those characters that is just pure fun to write.

KC: Thank you very much! I had a lot of fun writing Sheogorath, and the sometimes dangerous way he seems to jump between Manic and Demented moods; "Come back soon, or I'll pluck out yer eyes!" is one of my personal favourite lines to appear in any of the Elder Scrolls games and I wanted to reflect that kind of cheerfully psychotic insanity in him. As for Haskill, I've wondered much the same as to whether he's a person or not; I've got some headcanon for my own answer to that question, which I plan to delve into later in the story.

McBadgere: Thank you very much!

As nice and fancy as Bliss can be, it's probably not everyone's cup of tea, especially for someone like Carnius. Though I really have to point out that Crucible isn't much better, is it?

And it's finally time to meet Sentinel! I'd make a Mike Oldfield joke here too, but I'm not actually sure who he is! (I suck at watching movies...)

Zalphon: You get one right now. Again, my apologies for the delay.


For those wondering, I based the piece sung by Salyan on an old Irish folksong, "Soul of a Harper", which I adapted somewhat to fit with the Isles instead of Ireland.


Chapter 14-The Watchman

The rapping of Carnius' bare knuckles against the underside of the trapdoor was answered almost immediately by a deep, genial voice saying; "Come in, please!"

He pulled himself up the top of the ladder through the trapdoor, into the great glass globe at the tower's very top. He stared at the figure sitting cross-legged a few feet from him on a cushion, and the eyes of the man stared back at him.

In a deep, rich voice, Sentinel said; "Ah, you're here. I saw you coming, you know."

The most distinctive feature of Sentinel was, without a doubt, his eyes. Some people had an unusual eye colour, or a piercing gaze, but this was not so with those of Sentinel. In his case, his eyes were distinctive because he had dozens of them.

Where his hair should have been, stretching all across his head, eyeballs of every colour gazed in all directions. Some where those of men or mer, while others held slit pupils and large irises, or were deep black orbs Despite himself, Carnius stared, and several of them swivelled around to look right back.

"It's rude to stare, you know," Sentinel said with a grin.
Carnius managed to break the sudden shock that the sight had knocked him into him, and nodded. The rest of the room that seemed to make up Sentinel's home was nothing more than floorspace, surrounded by a great ball of faceted clear crystal. Beyond that, the view crazed and distorted by the lenses, the Shivering Isles stretched. The floor itself was strewn with cushions and seats, a few low cabinets lurking on the perimeter, and there was a hookah of beaten bronze lying to one side, the pipe coiled around it like a snake.

"You're right," he said. "Sorry."

Salyan pulled herself up through the trapdoor and stared.

"Hello there," Sentinel said, grinning once more. He turned around towards a chair and slumped upon it, a disconcerting thing to see on account of him maintaining perfect eye contact as he did so. "Do you two know how many visitors I get nowadays? Not many. Not many at all."

He blinked, a wave of shutting and opening eyelids rippling across his head.

"Nice to have come company," he said. "Especially two of you. So what can I do for you both?"

"We're looking for somewhere," Salyan said. "A place called Xedilian."

"Xedilian, you say?" Sentinel asked. "Ah yes, I remember there. Used to be a busy place, back in the old days, before Relmyna finished off making that Gatekeeper of hers. I saw that fight of yours against that thing, by the way. Hell of a spectacle; usually I just watch it to see a bunch of adventurers get pounded into nothing, but actually seeing somebody beat it was something else entirely. Very impressive indeed."

"Thanks," Carnius said, wondering how this many-eyed peculiarity of a person had witnessed that. "But as we were saying; Xedilian?"

"In Dementia, if I remember right. Let me check where it is for you."

A few of the eyes on the top of his head swivelled to face a direction, and he announced; "Found it."

"How did you do that?" Carnius asked. "Magic?"

"In a sense," Sentinel replied. "It's a bit more complicated than that, you see."

"How so?" Salyan asked. "I mean, you're obviously a Daedra, so you did something, didn't you?"

"I am a Daedra, yes," Sentinel said. "Then again, I'm not, either."

Carnius shook his head.

"You've lost me," he said. "Surely you're either a Daedra or you aren't?"

"Of course not," Sentinel said. "There's an awful lot of middle ground between being a Daedra and not being a Daedra. In my case, I'm just a facet of Sheogorath."

"You mean like the angels?" Salyan asked. She saw Carnius' confused look and added; "I'll explains some other time." She glanced over to Sentinel and added in a conspiratorial tone; "He's new here."

"I know," Sentinel said, causing Salyan to blush slightly with embarrassment. "Though, I suppose I have something in common with the angels; in my case, I'm Sheogorath's omniscience."

"His omniscience?" Carnius asked.

"It's a bit of a tale," Sentinel said. "Have yourselves a seat, and I'll explain it to you. I wouldn't mind a bit of a chat before I send you off to Xedilian."

Salyan found a cushion and sat, Carnius following suit a moment later. Sentinel picked up the hookah, took its top off and peered into it before nodded. He flicked a finger, a flame dancing on its tip, and lit the small collection of hackle-lo leaf at its base. Holding the pipe, he leant back in his chair, the delight having an audience clear on his features.

"Now, in each of their realms, every one of the Daedric Princes is, for all intents and purposes, a god," Sentinel said, taking a puff and blowing out a cloud of scented smoke. "They know everything that happens there and can do anything in it, shaping and controlling it to their desires. You know what the problem with that is?"

Salyan and Carnius thought for a moment.
"I'm having a hard time seeing it," Carnius said.

"It's dull," Sentinel replied, shaking his head. "Boring, predictable, drab, uninspiring, call it what you want, but it gets tedious, quickly. Nothing surprises you, nothing interests you and you get tired of it. So, aeons ago, in order to actually have things in the Isles be interesting for him again, Sheogorath made me, Sentinel, the Watchman of the Shivering Isles."

He leant forward, holding out the tip of the pipe as an offering. Carnius shook his head, but Salyan accepted it.

"So you're just part of the Madgod?" she asked, taking a lungful of smoke.

"Exactly," Sentinel said. "As I said earlier, his omnipotence. Of course, even then he put a few restrictions on me; I can only see the present, and for some reason I can't look underground or through walls."

"Why'd he do that, then?" Carnius asked.

"It's the Madgod," Sentinel replied with a shrug. "Who knows? He always liked putting limits on people, though, just to see how far they'd go to overcome them. He said it makes things more interesting."

That, Carnius decided, made perfect sense when you considered the character of Sheogorath.

"So Sheogorath's still all powerful in the Isles, then?" he asked.

"I suppose so," Sentinel said. "He just chooses not to use that power. It makes things more interesting for him. The only thing he doesn't have the power to stop is something like another Daedric Prince, or an Aedra."

"Like Jyggalag," Salyan said, to which Sentinel nodded.

"Thinking of which, we need to get to Xedilian," Carnius said. "Activate it, help keep the Isles safe. Where is it?"

“I’ll tell you,” Sentinel said. “In exchange for one thing; your friend carries a lyre, and it’s been some time since I heard some music. You play me a song, Salyan, and I’ll tell you where to find Xedilian.”

Salyan nodded, pulling her lyre free. She plucked a few strings, hummed a few lines of a tune for a moment, and started playing a melody.



"Oh, they say 'tis a hanging that soon I will be," she sang. "My body twisting from yonder mushroom tree. For daring to dream that a harper could sing free, I now die, for Order's hands end me.

"Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled, while the land of Mania lies over the hill, for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will, and the soul of the harper nought can ever kill.

"Oh the tyrant king on his cold crystal throne, fears song's freedom he never has known. Our bright Shiv'ring passion comes through in the tone, so he orders it silenced and broods all alone.

"Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled, while the land of Mania lies over the hill, for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will, and the soul of the harper nought can ever kill.

"He'll string out my guts and drag me on the lane, blood streaming on out of my open veins. I'll kick and I'll scream in my terrible pain, and as I die my blood the ground shall red stain.

"Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled, while the land of Mania lies over the hill, for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will, and the soul of the harper nought can kill.

"For one of the road, death holds no sting, 'tis another adventure, a wondrous thing. And I know that my music shall evermore ring, in the hill and the rivers of Mania's spring.

"Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled, while the land of Mania lies over the hill, for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will, and the soul of the harper nought can ever kill."

There was silence in the crystal-walled room that Sentinel called home, before the quasi-Daedra nodded. He blew out a cloud of smoke that he had inhaled.

"Well, that's fair," he said. "You gave me my song, so I'll give you the location of Xedilian. You have a map?"

"Right here," Carnius said, slipping the folded parchment from his pocket. Sentinel examined it for a moment, before opening one of his cabinets and pulling forth a quill and a pot of ink. He wrote something on the map and handed it back to him.

"We have to go back to Dementia again?" Salyan asked, looking over Carnius' shoulder at the mark Sentinel had made, at a place called 'Madgod's boot'.

"I'm afraid you do," Sentinel said.

"It'll be fine, Salyan," Carnius said. "Dementia isn't so bad, anyway. Might be a bit gloomy, but it's alright."

"Says you," Salyan said. "But I suppose it needs doing."

Carnius stood and nodded to Sentinel.

"Thanks for your help," he said.

"A pleasure," the strange being replied. "Please come again soon, the both of you; I enjoy your company."

"We will," Salyan said. "And I'll play you another piece when we do."

They made their farewells and opened the trapdoor for the stairwell, bid sent on their way with a promise from Sentinel that he would keep an eye or three on them during their travels.

"Well he was nice," Salyan said as they decided down the stairwell. "Cheerful. Helpful too."

Carnius nodded as they revolved down the stairs.

"I know a place in Bliss where we can get some travel supplies, by the way," Salyan said. "And we can pick up your gauntlets from Cutter's, too. If we get everything together we can be on our way tomorrow."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Carnius said as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. He pushed open the door, and glanced at the corridor they were in. "Which way was it?"

"Left, I think," Salyan said.

They made their way through the back rooms of the palace, the kitchens and laundry rooms and servant's quarters that the great building relied on to support its few rich owners, and they found an exit from the structure that was clearly meant for staff. Together, they made their way around the front of the building and out of the courtyard, into the cramped, twisted streets of Crucible. Finding Cutter's forge took longer than expected, but before long they reached it.

Carnius pushed open the door to the building and glanced around at the plethora of blades and other instruments of bloodshed that adorned its innards. The fire in the hearth was crackling low, but the smith was nowhere to be seen.

"Cutter?" he called. "Are you there?"

His answer was a husky moan and a low, breathy panting from one side of the building, from a room just out of his view. Frowning, Carnius and Salyan rounded the corner, and it was there they found Cutter. Her eyes were rolled back in their sockets as she twisted the tip of a dagger into the flesh of her arm, an expression of pure ecstasy on her features as the limb was worried by the blade, cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat dusting her skin.

It was one of the most disturbingly erotic things Carnius had ever seen.

After a moment of horrified enthrallment, Salyan cleared her throat. Cutter jumped, startled out of her activity, pulling the dagger free with a wet squelch.

"Madgod!" she exclaimed, grabbing the wound as blood began to run down her arm. "I wasn't expecting customers."

The tips of her fingers glowed with arcane energy as she shut the wound, giving them both baleful looks in the meantime.

"You're here about your gauntlets, aren't you?" the bosmer said, waiting a few moments for the injury to suture itself shut.

"I am," Carnius nodded, feeling acutely embarrassed despite himself. "I'll collect them, and then we'll go."

"Agreed," Salyan said. "We have things we need to do."

"Of course, of course," Cutter said. Satisfied that she was no longer bleeding for the moment and ignoring the ribbons of crimson that had snaked down her arm, she headed to another part of her shop, gesturing for Carnius and Salyan to follow as she flexed her fingers. She unlocked a chest, and drew the two gauntlets from within. She gave a quiet snort of amusement. "I'd almost like to keep these for myself, you know."

"They're not for sale," Carnius said, holding out his hand for them. A look of reluctant displeasure on her features, Cutter placed them in his palm.

"Remember our agreement," she said as Carnius examined them. "These gauntlets come back to me for repair and me alone. If any other smith touches them…"

She ran the tip of the dagger along her throat.

"I know," Carnius said, refusing to be intimidated.

They left, stepping out into the contorted maze of Crucible's streets.

"I know a few places in Bliss where we can get the supplies we need, by the way," Salyan said. "I could do with a few health and magicka potions, for a start."

"Lead the way, then," Carnius nodded.

The next few hours were taken up with scouting around shops and market stalls within Bliss, haggling over prices of food, potions and other supplies. Carnius couldn't shake the feeling that they could probably get them cheaper in Crucible, but decided against voicing that opinion for Salyan's sake. There was really no point getting into an argument about where they shopped.

The sun was setting by the time they were finished, and they made their way through the streets of Bliss for the Choosy Beggar, for a meal and a night's sleep. As they entered Raven Biter called them over to the bar, the proprietor of the inn holding an envelope in his hand.

"A courier left this for you, Carnius," the Argonian said as the two approached. "Not sure what it's about, but he asked me to pass it on to you."

"Thanks," Carnius said. He slid his finger under the wax seal and broke it, unfolding it. His brows knitted in concentration as he began to read, Salyan peering at it over his shoulder.

"I wonder who that old friend of yours is," she said after a few moments.

"What?" Carnius said, concentration broken.

"The 'old friend' who sent this to you," she said. "You know, at the bottom."

"I hadn't read that far yet," Carnius admitted. "I was only on the second sentence."

"Just give it here," Salyan said.

A look of wounded pride on his face, Carnius handed it over.

"'Dear Carnius Hackelt,'" Salyan read. "'I hope this letter finds you in good health now that you have arrived in the Isles, and I wish to extend my congratulations to you on defeating the Gatekeeper and gaining entry. I would not be surprised if you were finding this place somewhat strange, and I am sure that you would appreciate a helping hand in whatever you are attempting to achieve here. With that in mind, I would like to meet with you in order to offer any support that I am able to; if you are interested, please come to the Golden Baliwog this evening to meet me. Yours, an old friend.' Very enigmatic, certainly."

Carnius nodded.

"What's the Golden Baliwog?" he asked.

"A, ah, gentleman's club," Raven Biter supplied. "Very exclusive, very fancy. Caters for the high-ups, usually; Duke Thadon himself goes there, even."

"Might as well go there and see what this is about," Carnius said.

"Are you sure?" Salyan asked. "It might be a trap."

"Why would somebody want to ambush us?" Carnius pointed out. "I've only just arrived here and we've hardly caused a stir. Unless…"

"Unless what?" Salyan asked.

"Relmyna Venerim," Carnius said. "She didn't take kindly to me killing the Gatekeeper; swore revenge. If there was anybody who would want to do that, it would be her."

Salyan nodded, before she said; "But knowing her, she would probably do something like build some kind of specially made Flesh Atronach creature just to kill you. So it's probably not an ambush."

"And yet all of a sudden I don't feel better," Carnius remarked.

"So I am assuming that you won't be eating or staying here tonight?" Raven Biter asked.

"Depends," Carnius said, to which the Argonian shrugged.

"I'll hold onto your rooms for a while, yet," he said. "Just don't stay too long or you'll need to find somewhere else to sleep."

The Golden Baliwog was easy to find, the building somewhat of a landmark that Salyan tracked down through Bliss' twilit streets with little trouble. It was a large mansion building, off the street up a driveway, surrounded by a small garden with the perimeter marked by an iron fence. There was a pair of Orsimer guarding the entrance to grounds, one of them leaning on the head of a heavy warhammer forged of some golden-coloured metal as the two of them approached he stood, suspicion in his eyes; they didn't look like the regular sort of customer, Carnius guessed.

"What's your business here?" the Orc challenged.

"My name's Carnius Hackelt," Carnius said, letter in hand in case it was needed. "I was invited here."

"You're him?" the Orc asked. "Good. Come with me, please. Gorak, keep an eye on the gate while I'm gone."

"What else was I doing?" the other bouncer said.

They were lead up the driveway by Orsimer, past the ornamental shrubbery that decorated it. At one point they had to step aside as a Rayet-drawn carriage clattered up the drive, pulling to a halt before the mansion's entrance. A servant waiting there pulled open the door and helped the carriage's passenger down and through the large, ornamented doorway as the vehicle headed around the rear of the building to wait.

The bouncer lead them through the doorway and into an atrium hall of some kind. The room itself was large and extravagant, decorated with velvet curtains, portraits, and a stairwell leading up to a balcony above, covered with a lush red carpet. From the room beyond the sound of conversation and music filtered through.

"He's here," the Orc remarked to a Bosmer standing behind a mahogany desk off to one side, nodding to Carnius. The Elf nodded and hurried off after a moment, and the Orc turned back to Carnius and Salyan. With a brusque "wait here" he left.

"Well, here we are," Salyan said, looking around. "Noble certainly know how to have a good time, don't they?"

Carnius nodded. He'd been in places like this before, a privilege afforded to him by his celebrity status as a gladiator and if there was one thing they could do, it was host a party.

The clerk reappeared back behind the desk, and said; "If you would be so good to wait just a minute."

"Fine," Carnius said.

"Excellent," the Bosmer said.

He began to say something else, but Carnius' attention was grabbed by the person who had appeared at the top of the balcony. His eyes widened.

"Carnius," Her Ladyship smiled as she descended the stairs. "I'm so glad you finally made it here."




This post has been edited by Colonel Mustard: Dec 15 2012, 10:25 PM

[Colonel Mustard]

Chapter 15-The Golden Baliwog

“You know,” Carnius said as he looked over the theatre below them. “You’re probably the last person I would have expected to see here.”

The room that he, Salyan and Her Ladyship were looking down upon was a large, opulent one, largely populated by groups of nobles. Dice were clattering on the tables that occupied its floorspace, while servants went to and fro with trays of drinks and foodstuffs. At a stage occupying the far end, women and men in varying states of undress were dancing and being watched by the hungry eyes of the clientele. Now and again a customer would point at one of the dancers and give a few orders to a servant; dancer and client, sometimes more than one of each, would disappear into a side doorway.

“These are the Isles, Carnius,” Her Ladyship replied. “I generally find that it’s a good idea to not expect anything except the worst when it comes to them; it’s the best way to avoid any nasty surprises.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Carnius nodded. “Still, my point stands; how on Nirn did you manage to end up here?”

“I was invited through quite some time ago,” Her Ladyship said. “Nowadays I move back and forth between the Isles and Nirn to accommodate business and to enjoy the occasional Arena match.”

“Business,” Carnius nodded, looking back down at the room. “Never pegged you as the sort to be working as a brothel madam. I always thought you were a noble of some kind.”

“I can be both, you know,” Her Ladyship replied. “I’ve own quite a large amount of land on the Laughing Coast and, if I do say so myself, have rather considerable political clout here in New Sheoth.”

Carnius shook his head.

“Impossible,” he said. “No noble would ever associate with someone in your job aside from personal pleasure; they’d sneer at you, wouldn’t they? New money, like me. And all earned in a low-down way, too.”

“In Cyrodiil, perhaps,” Her Ladyship said. “We do things rather differently in the Isles.”

“Can’t argue with that last point,” Carnius said. “So if you’re one of the noble types, what’s with the Golden Baliwog, then?”

“The Baliwog is just the tip of the iceberg, really,” Her Ladyship said. “This is the most expensive of the brothels I run, but it’s far from the only establishment I have; every whorehouse in New Sheoth and the Isles is owned by me.”

“Pretty impressive,” Carnius said. “How did you manage that?”

“Cunning, intimate knowledge of the business and the desire to do some good,” Her Ladyship replied. “The men and women working in my establishments are paid fairly, looked after and protected. Their children, who are all but invariable in this sort of job, are educated and if their parents wish to leave at any point they are allowed to; this business isn’t going to go away, so as far as I can see it might as well be regulated and have some standards applied to it.”

“So it’s philanthropy, then,” Carnius said.

“Indeed it is,” Her Ladyship said. “Come, I’ll show you and Salyan around the place.”

The two of them stepped away from the balcony, heading for the stairwell. After a moment, Her Ladyship glanced over her shoulder to where Salyan was still leaning on the rail.

“Salyan, my dear, are you coming?” she asked.

“What?” the bard asked, looking up in sudden surprise. “Oh, right, sorry. I’ll be right with you. I was just a bit distracted.”

“Of course,” Her Ladyship said as Salyan caught up with them. She lead them down the stairs, and into the bustling main hall. The staff parted before her with respectful nods, and she gestured to one of the gambling tables. “This is one of the Baliwog’s main sources of income, along with our prostitutes. We tend to be a little more generous in allowing people to win than most gambling den, though.”

“They spend the money on a girl or boy anyway, don’t they?” Carnius said.

“Exactly,” Her Ladyship replied. “Many of our customers have great success at the gambling table yet still seem to come home poorer than when they arrived.”

“Clever,” Carnius said.

“Your Ladyship!” one of the clients called, noticing the presence of the brothel’s madam. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you concerning some business.”

“I’m afraid I’m entertaining a guest,” Her Ladyship replied. “Perhaps another night, Kalran.”

“A shame,” the guest said, before he glanced at Carnius. “Perhaps him and I could share your attention?”

“Not tonight,” Her Ladyship replied. “Now don’t let me keep you; there are more than a few women here who I am sure you can lavish your attentions upon.”

She stepped away, and noticed Carnius’ raised eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said. “It’s part of the job. And, I’ll admit, one that can be quite enjoyable at times.”

“Suppose I used to kill people for money,” Carnius conceded with a shrug.

“Indeed,” Her Ladyship said, opening a side door from the main room. “Through here, if you will.”

The room that it opened onto was a far plainer corridor, and its main occupants appeared to be staff and servants. Her Ladyship took a left, Salyan and Carnius following as she led them down one way. People stepped out of her way as before, and she stopped one of the women as she was walking by.

“Ysren,” she said. “Would you mind taking Salyan with you and showing her around?”

The woman glanced at Salyan, and that gave Carnius an opportunity to see her face. He started as he saw the too-upturned nose, the gaunt cheeks, pale skin and red-orange eyes.

“Is she new here?” Ysren asked.

“Just a guest,” Her Ladyship replied. “She isn’t working here.”

She glanced over at Salyan and added; “Unless you’d like to, of course.”

“Er, no,” Salyan shook her head.

Her Ladyship nodded, and said; “Very well, then, she’s our guest.”

“Of course,” Ysren nodded, smiling at Salyan. “Come on, Salyan, let me show you around.”

The two of them left, Carnius staring after them. Her Ladyship turned to leave, and paused for a moment as she saw Carnius wasn’t following.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

“You do realise,” Carnius said. “That Ysren, who you just sent Salyan off with, is a vampire, yes?”

“Yes,” Her Ladyship said. “What of it?”
“A vampire,” Carnius repeated.

“She’s a vampire, yes,” Her Ladyship said, a look of confusion on her face. “Oh, right, of course. My apologies, I often forget the way Nirnians react to the undead.”

“And vampires are perfectly normal in the Isles?” Carnius asked.

“We rub shoulders with daedra on a daily basis here, and random acts of violence are a hallmark of our society,” Her Ladyship replied. “People drinking blood in order to survive is rather mundane for us.”

“Should have guessed,” Carnius said, shaking his head. “So why does she work here, then?”

“For a start, she does an excellent job of managing the place,” Her Ladyship said. “Which is especially useful when I’m not here to do it myself. And secondly, there’s quite a number of our clientele who enjoy a woman who’s cold and clammy to the touch, and her ability to lie as stiff as a board is quite often in demand.”

She saw the expression on Carnius’ face.

“Believe me, I had just as hard a time adjusting to this place,” she said. “But it can be hospitable enough in its own way, once you get used to its oddities.”

“Oddities like necophilia,” Carnius said.

“Among other things, yes,” Her Ladyship replied. “If I’m frank, that’s hardly the worst of it. Besides, it’s an alternative to digging up graves; most families find that rather upsetting, after all. There are certain bragging rights to be invoked with that, too; we are the only brothel in the Isles to have a vampire working there. The only other establishments that can boast such a thing are Sanguine’s realms and Coldhabour, and Bal’s realm is hardly that hospitable.”

Carnius shrugged. There was little else he could do in light of such information.

“So why did you send Salyan off?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?” Her Ladyship asked.

“You said you were going to show us around,” Carnius said.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Her Ladyship said. “I was hoping to talk to you in private, though, and I realised that now is a good time to.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Carnius conceded. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“A number of things,” Her Ladyship replied, setting off down the corridor again. “We’ll have plenty of privacy in my personal chambers.”

“You don’t think people would talk?” Carnius asked.

“About what? A brothel madam inviting a man into her bedroom?” Her Ladyship said. “The Isles will be alight with the scandal!”

She reached an unadorned doorway, and pulled a key out from where it was tucked in the sleeve of her dress. She unlocked it and pushed it open, revealing a large, sumptuously decorated bedroom beyond; every item of furniture within it was well made and lavishly decorated, and at the end a large bed built to house more that two lay. Everything within, from the soft red wallpaper to the flowers arranged in vases was designed to lend it an air of comfort and sensuality.

“Please, take a seat,” Her Ladyship said. She clapped her hands together and the candles placed about the room flickered into life as flames danced on their wicks. She headed over to a cabinet. “A drink of any kind? There’s wine, brandy, whiskey, flin, matze, even some skooma if you feel so inclined.”

“I’ll be fine,” Carnius said.

“Suit yourself,” Her Ladyship said, opening its door and pulling out a bottle of wine. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to have myself a goblet of Surilie Brothers’ Three-Ninety-Nine; I have a terrible weakness for the stuff.”

She poured herself a glass and sat. The long pin the back of her bun was pulled out, and she shook her head as her blonde hair fell about her shoulders.

“So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Carnius asked.

“A few things,” Her Ladyship said. “Mainly, however, I feel I owe you somewhat of an apology.”

“What for?” Carnius asked.

“It’s somewhat complicated,” Her Ladyship said. “But the fact is that Sheogorath and we in the Madgod’s court have all seen the Greymarch coming for some time now. Jyggalag will march upon the Isles, he will crush the life from them and leave nought but ash in his wake; quite understandably, none of us want that to happen.”

“Hold on a moment,” Carnius said. “I’ve heard all this talk of Greymarches and Jyggalag but nobody’s actually explained any of this to me beyond Salyan saying some things about old legends and armies, and even that wasn’t all that clear.”

“Of course,” Her Ladyship said. “I should have realised that you wouldn’t know much of it. The Greymarch is an event that occurs on the Isles every few thousand years, an invasion of unprecedented scale lead by Jyggalag, the Daedric Prince of order. Every time it happens, the Isles are razed, their population massacred and Sheogorath is forced to rebuild them. Naturally, I’m not particularly keen on that happening; this place is my home and it’s my duty to protect the people I rule.”

“But this is Sheogorath’s realm,” Carnius said. “Sentinel was saying to me earlier that Sheogorath is omnipotent here; he could stop the Greymarch easily, couldn’t he?”

“Unfortunately not,” Her Ladyship said. “The problem is the nature of Sheogorath and Jyggalag; Sheogorath cannot stop Jyggalag, or directly prevent his minions, because Jyggalag and Sheogorath are one and the same.”

“I’m going to have to risk pointing out the obvious here, but the two of them seem like polar opposites,” Carnius said.

“Indeed,” Her Ladyship said. “Before the Isles were created, you see, there was only Jyggalag and no Sheogorath; the Prince of order was a powerful force in Oblivion, and the other princes feared his might. So they cursed him into becoming Sheogorath, the embodiment of that which he despises, and Jyggalag only gains respite from this once every millennium when Sheogorath once again transforms into him. From there, he calls forth his armies and Arbitrators from the limbo realm they inhabit to march upon and destroy the Isles.”

Carnius nodded.

“I can see why you’d want to stop that, then,” he said. “But why does that mean you owe me an apology?”

“Well, around twenty or so years ago, Sheogorath gathered his court,” Her Ladyship said. “In a rare moment of lucidity, he told us of the Greymarch and the threat the Isles face, and gave us an order; ‘find me a champion. Find me somebody not of the Isles who is worthy of stopping the Greymarch and saving this place.’”

“So that explains why you visited the Imperial Arena,” Carnius said. “You were looking for talent.”

“Indeed I was,” Her Ladyship replied. “Though admittedly, I have always found something terribly exciting about watching two people try and kill each other for my entertainment. But a decade and a half ago, at the start of a match between two humble Pit Dogs, I saw a young man no more than fifteen years of age enter the ring. He fought with his fists, which was certainly a first, and even though his choice in weapons was unconventional, he won. And I saw something in him; potential, raw though it was, somebody who fought with their mind as much as their arm, who appeared to be a good man when I finally had a chance to speak to him and of noble character.”

“So your sponsorship and the funding that you gave me…that was just so I might one day come here?”

“You were a long term hope,” Her Ladyship said. “But I knew that were of the right sort of character for what Sheogorath needed, and that all that was required was to somehow get you to the Isles of your own accord.”

“And me becoming Grand Champion was all part of your plan?” Carnius asked. “You mean Agronak being killed by me was-”

“I had no idea that you were planning to enter the ring to fight for the title of Grand Champion until the Arena announced it officially,” Her Ladyship said. “Believe me when I say that I had no part in Agronak’s death. Yes, I’ll admit that it was useful in giving you the push you needed to come to the Isles, but it certainly wasn’t my plan, and the timing of him dying and Sheogorath opening his doorway was fortunate coincidence and little else. In fact, I don’t think the Madgod is even aware that I had a hand in getting you here; he opened that door out of desperation more than anything else.”

Carnius leant back and sighed.

“Are you alright?” Her Ladyship asked.

“It’s just…this,” Carnius said. “Just over a week ago I was Grand Champion of the Arena, and life was normal. Suddenly I find myself in a world full of insane people, where everything tries to kill me and the one familiar face here turns out to be in league with a Nine-damned Daedra, and who had been manipulating me for fifteen years!”

“Come now, I was not manipulating you!” Her Ladyship snapped. “The Isles needs somebody and I thought you might be that person. Yes, I realise that what I did was somewhat unfair, and I didn’t like steering you along a path that wasn’t necessarily the one you were destined for, but I did it for all the right reasons. I’m sorry if you’re angry about that and I can understand why you are, but please don’t doubt that I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“Right thing?” Carnius asked. “Your Ladyship, Sheogorath is a Daedra. Daedra are evil. Helping them isn’t doing the right thing.”

“Evil?” Her Ladyship asked. “Really? You’ve met Sheogorath, Carnius. Would you call him evil? And what about Salyan? This is her home; if the Greymarch comes then she’ll be killed. Does she deserve that?”

“I…” Carnius was thrown. “Well, she could leave.”

“And I suppose all of us could evacuate the Isles?” Her Ladyship asked. “Uproot ourselves from a place where we have lived for centuries and live as a displaced country, going where? Nowhere in Nirn would take us, not if we’ve associated with Daedra, and I somehow doubt the other Daedric Princes would be particularly accommodating for an entire nation of refugees.”

She shook her head.

“Our only real hope is to trust in whatever plan Sheogorath has to see the Isles through the Greymarch, and to hope that there’s somebody to stand and fight it when it come,” Her Ladyship said. “And when that day comes I’ll certainly be one of those taking up arms, but I’d feel better doing such a thing in the knowledge that I’m not fighting for a lost cause.”

Carnius was quiet for a few moments, before he said; “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Her Ladyship said, smiling. “I’m sure you can do this.”

This post has been edited by Colonel Mustard: Nov 22 2012, 08:43 PM

[King Coin]

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” Sentinel said with a grin.
I like the Sentinel already! He would be quite unnerving to be around however, no matter how friendly. A part of Sheogorath that explains quite a bit. I like the reason he was made too, I imagine it would be rather dull to just know everything.

He blinked, a wave of shutting and opening eyelids rippling across his head.
Like I said. Unnerving.

Cutter lives up to her name.

Carnius and Salyan are quite a pair. He leans dementia and she make it very clear she’s a maniac.

At first I wondered if his Khajiit friend sent him a letter from the Arena, but after reading the note for myself, I knew it was his sponsor. I expected her to turn up here.

“What?” the bard asked, looking up in sudden surprise. “Oh, right, sorry. I’ll be right with you. I was just a bit distracted.”


I like Carnius’ concern about the Lady sleeping with clients, then remembers that he made his fortune killing people.

[Darkness Eternal]

The Watchman:

Ooh, I like the Sentinel and his multi-eyed(in color, too!) face! And the idea that he's Daedra and not Daedra at the same time is wonderful and unique.

“It’s dull,” Sentinel replied, shaking his head. “Boring, predictable, drab, uninspiring, call it what you want, but it gets tedious, quickly. Nothing surprises you, nothing interests you and you get tired of it. So, aeons ago, in order to actually have things in the Isles be interesting for him again, Sheogorath made me, Sentinel, the Watchman of the Shivering Isles.”

This is so true about Daedric Princes! They are what they are and they can't change their stripes. Like Azura would never turn her realm into a Hunting Game or Boethia would never make Oblivion into a rose garden . They do what it's in their power to do, and that power is always the same. It's why Daedra have such an interest in mortals, because they're different! I'm glad you wrote this part and added since it makes perfect sense.

And hehe, the "Golden Baliwog," clever name for a gentleman's club . . .in a Daedric Realm. So instead of placing dollars into boots they stick coins into . . .erh . . .hehe. That would be madness, wouldn't it? I like the trip there!

The Golden Baliwog:

Ahaha! I loved the moody atmoshpere you set here and the shady things going on about and all the horny men. I particularly liked the Lady and you probably know, I fancy Ysren already!

"We are the only brothel in the Isles to have a vampire working there. The only other establishments that can boast such a thing are Sanguine’s realms and Coldhabour, and Bal’s realm is hardly that hospitable.”

Hahaha, yeah, because the sexual favors that goes on in Bal's realm happens in Charnel houses . . .and he's not gentle when it comes to booty pleasures.

So, Carnius sees Daedra as evil, then? Hmm. Interesting! Superb dialogue, awesome details, great story and unique additional content not seen in the game and lore, too!
Hahaha

[Colonel Mustard]

King Coin: Thanks very much! I was going for an 'amenable but unnerving' vibe with Sentinel, so I'm pleased I managed that. And I felt his origin would also make perfect sense when you consider the nature of Sheogorath; he seems probably the only being in Oblivion that would abandon local omniscience on a whim. And his nature also eliminates any potential plot holes of 'why don't they just call on their friend the insanity god?' with the answer of 'the insanity god is too insane to be bothered to help'.

And yeah, Her Ladyship turning up in the Isles had, as far as I understood, been taken as given by this point.


Darkness Eternal: The nature of the Daedric Princes and Oblivion, and the insane metaphysics that accompany them, are probably one of my favourite things about TES, and Sentinel was a good way to explore part of that.

And yep, Dishonoured reference right there. Awesome game; best stealth-em-up I've played since Thief 2. Though I'll admit that the notes into garters system wouldn't really work in the TES-verse, would it? Hmm, I'm going to have work something out, then.

Magnets, maybe? Hmm, I'll have to investigate further...

Hahaha, yeah, because the sexual favors that goes on in Bal's realm happens in Charnel houses . . .and he's not gentle when it comes to booty pleasures.

Well, Coldhabour's inhabited. And where there's civilisation, there's commerce. Sometimes it's awful, morally reprehensible commerce for things no decent person would buy, but commerce nonetheless. Ayn Rand would be proud.

And Carnius has been brought up in a culture that overwhelming views Daedra is being evil, so it's hardly surprising that he's going to be thinking along similar lines. That said, what he's encountered so far, and what he is going to encounter, may well force a bit of a rethink on his position.


And now on to the next chapter! Enjoy your reading, everyone!

Chapter 16-Xedilian

He found Salyan the next morning, the bard exuberant and cheerful after a night spent with the Baliwog’s staff. She had been treated, if not like a queen, then like somebody of notable celebrity and had managed to get to know the rest of the staff in the space of one night. She had been keen to show off her lacquered fingernails and had dyed her blonde hair an alarming shade of purple, and when they had left the Baliwog she had bid both the bouncers farewell by their names.

“You had a good time last night then, I’m guessing,” Carnius said.

“Oh, it was great,” Salyan said as the two of them headed through the streets, cutting through a bustling market square on their way to Crucible’s gate out of the city, the road from which would take them to Xedilian. “I met a whole load of people, made friends, indulged in a little vanity. It was fun. Oh, and what about you and Her Ladyship?”

“We talked a while,” Carnius said. “There was some air clearing that she needed to do, it turned out.”

“You talked a while?” Salyan asked. “Is that all?”

“Just about,” Carnius said.

The bard stopped, and a hooded dunmer who had been walking just behind her bumped into her. The elf snapped a curse as both Carnius and Salyan’s hands went to their purses, and the mer glared at them for a moment before deciding they weren’t worth the trouble, slinking away.

“Really?” she asked. “You get invited into the private chambers of a beautiful, charismatic, rich noble who clearly has her eye on you and you just talk?”

“She doesn’t have her eye on me,” Carnius protested.

“Yes she does,” Salyan said, shaking her head. “That’s why I left you to it and had Ysren show me around last night; I wasn’t wanted, that much was obvious. Though Ysren was nice.”

She set out again, adding; “So why didn’t anything happen, then? You’re not into men or something, are you?”

“What?” Carnius asked, following her once more. “No, I’m not.”

“Alright, I’m just asking,” Salyan said. “Still, that didn’t answer my question.”

“She’s a toff,” Carnius said. “I’m nobody. I didn’t think she’d want anything to do with me like that.”

“Blind s’wit,” Salyan muttered as they reached the gate that marked the divide between Crucible and Bliss. Somehow, Carnius felt more at home as they entered the intestinal, gloomy warrens of Bliss’ poorer twin.

“I heard that,” he replied.

“Good,” Salyan said, though the grin she flashed him said she wasn’t serious. “Still, I can’t say I blame her for it, even if you’re just being blinkered about it; you’re attractive enough in a kind of rugged, battered way, I suppose.”

She felt the need to clear the air, and added; “And before you ask, sorry, I’m not interested. You’re old enough to be my father.”

“I’m thirty,” Carnius protested.

“Alright, maybe not old enough to be my father, but that’s still a good nine years between us,” Salyan said.

“Fine by me,” Carnius said, before he sensed an opportunity to change the subject. “Thinking of parents, though, what sort of family do you have, Salyan?”

“Me? None,” the bard replied. “I was brought up in an orphanage, so I didn’t know them. I didn’t like it, and it didn’t like me, so I ran away. I found my way to the Isles when I was just small. What about yours?”

His parents. Yes, those two. His mother had been a quiet, demure, uncomplaining woman. Carnius had loved her, and she had loved him, and he’d taken good care of her as a dutiful should when quietly, demurely and uncomplainingly, she had passed on. His father, though, had been different. His father had been his hero, a boisterous giant of a man whose sheer personality would fill whatever room he was in. He had been respected by the others on the waterfront, and even though he had enemies they knew well enough to leave him be; he was a legendary brawler, and they had called him One-Punch Orannic for good reason. He was a huge arm sweeping his son up in an embrace as he entered the home, still in the thick work clothes he wore when shifting cargo, ones that stank of oil and sweat and grease and a thousand other things. He was a loud, proud and boastful declaration that Carnius was going to make it big and grand in the world. He was an angry, terrifying, pitiful monster that stumbled in late at night, struck angry blows and wept with regret the following morning, swearing on the Nine it would never happen again. When he was happy, the world glowed and resounded with bellows of laughter. When he was angry, his knuckles felt like stones contained by skin. And when he was laid out on the street, a stained, greasy coat covering his head so that his weeping wife couldn’t see the brains and blood seeping out onto the ground, his fifteen year-old son had looked at the body, hands curled into fists and decided that having his brains smashed out in a tavern brawl had been the stupidest way to die he could imagine.

“They were good people,” Carnius said after a moment. “Neither of them are around any more.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Salyan said. She grimaced as she hopped over a stinking puddle of stagnant, dirty water that had pooled in the middle of the lane, shaking her head at the filth. “For Sheogorath’s sake, why do people live like this?”

“Because they can’t afford better, maybe?” Carnius suggested.

“Maybe,” Salyan said. “Though there are still plenty of people here who could afford to go to Mania and Bliss. I just don’t understand why they don’t.”

Carnius just rolled his eyes as they reached the gate out of the city. It was open, a pair of guards on either side of it with their weapons sheathed. The road that lead from Crucible to the rest of Dementia stretched before them through the decaying swamplands that bordered the city, winding between the pools of stagnant water like a worm. Without delay, they set out for Xedilian.

- - - - - - -

It had taken them three days to reach it, this time without the help of any amenable merchants, but they had finally reached Xedilian. It appeared to be nought but a doorway built into a mountainside, overshadowed by the twisting roots of a colossal mushroom tree, a bridge of white stone leading up to it. The tree’s sides were slick and glistening with the drizzle that had been falling since morning, and the pair of them huddled underneath one of the roots as they looked over at the entrance.

“So this is Xedilian,” Salyan remarked, looking at the doorway. “It’s all underground then, it seems.”

“Looks like it is,” Carnius said. “Do you still have that manual?”

“Right here?” Salyan said, pulling the book from her pack. “It says that when the focus crystals are all in place on the judgment nexuses, you should ‘strike thrice the Resonator of Judgment with the Stave of Attenuation, and bring life to Xedilian.’”

“Judgement,” Carnius remarked, looking at the Attenuator from where he had slung it on his belt. “Wasn’t that Arbitrator thing we saw calling itself ‘Judgement’?”

“Yes,” Salyan said after a few moments. “Yes it was. But I’m sure Sheogorath knows what he’s doing.”

“I wish I could be as sure as you about that,” Carnius said. Salyan just shrugged.

“So,” she said, looking at the cavernous maw that was the doorway into Xedilian. “Shall we go in?”

“Alright,” Carnius said. “Yeah, let’s.”

After a hesitant moment, they set out along the bridge. Something about the place seemed to put their nerves on their edge, as if they were walking into a trap; as they stepped through the doors that lead into it, the portals half open, they could not shake the feeling that they were stepping into the mouth of some massive stone predator, ancient and malicious.

They stopped at the entrance, Dementia’s weak, cloud-filtered sunlight not reach far past the threshold. Both of them pulled torches from their packs, and lit them after a few strikes from tinder and flint. The floor of the entranceway was weather-stained and eroded, but what caught their attention were the bones scattered across the floor, and the skull that was suspended by a rope, hanging at head height. Blue paint of some kind had been daubed over it, forming markings or runes of some kind.

“Grummites,” Salyan said. “I should have guessed that they would be here.”

“Grummites?” Carnius asked.

“They’re a kind of…vermin, I suppose,” Salyan said. “They can use tools and weapons and a little magic, but they aren’t properly intelligent. And they always end up infesting caves and old ruins like this one; I suppose they make good homes for them.”

“Makes me think of goblins,” Carnius remarked.

They descended the staircase that lead into the rest of the complex, two morsels walking down the structure’s gullet. More filth and debris from the Grummite squatters was scattered along the floor, while symbols were daubed on the grey-black stone of the walls. The stairway lead onto a large room, a giant, high-ceilinged box with its centre occupied by a large, raised pedestal. Atop that, a shining white crystal twice the height of a man sat, looking as if it had burst upwards from the ground like snapped bone through split skin. Three large doorways occupied every other wall of the room, leading off to other parts of the facility.

“If the guide has it right,” Salyan said. “That’s the Resonator of Judgement right there. Strike it thrice, I suppose.”

Carnius unslung the Attenuator and tapped its crystalline head against the Resonator. There was a faint ringing, but nothing more.

“So I suppose that that means the focus crystals aren’t where they’re supposed to be,” he said after a few moments.

“Looks like it,” Salyan said. “And if I know Grummites, they’re probably the ones who have them; they’ll grab anything that shines.”

“So let’s go and put them back,” Carnius said, cracking his knuckles.

They took the left doorway, into a corridor occupied by a looming totem pole that had been hacked from an old pillar. They skirted around it, scanning for any possible threat that might emerge into the circle of torchlight that surrounded them.

Rounding a corner, they found an enemy. There were a few crude structure of carved wooden poles, mud and animals hides around a pool of water in a large square room, all hung with fetishes and daubed with paint symbols. Within them, a gaggle of flabby, froglike creatures were gathered around a fire, something turning on a spit, and they turned as Carnius and Salyan came into view.

For a moment, the two groups froze, before one of them howled and they grabbed crude weapons of stone and wood, shrieking warcries. Clubs and axes were raised as the mob charged Carnius and Salyan, the Grummites yelling their fury.

Salyan plucked a string of her lyre, and a few of the yowls of fury turned to terrified shrieks, some of the creatures cowering in sudden, hesitant terror. The others, three of them, barrelled forwards towards the two as Carnius backed away.

The first one that reached him hacked down with an overarm swing from an axe. Carnius blocked its haft with his left wrist, the armoured vambrace of his gauntlet soaking up the impact, and reached under his arm with his right hand. His other gauntlet closed over its arm and pulled, staggering it before he stepped forwards, pulling the axe blade with him. The stone weapon was crude, but it was enough to hack into its stomach, sharpened flint ripping its guts free.

He barrelled into the nearest Grummite as it swung at him with a club, slamming into it shoulder first as he stepped into its swing. He grabbed it and shoved it into one of its fellows, sending them both tumbling, and glanced back towards those that Salyan had cast a terror spell on.

They had rallied, regaining their courage, but the bard sent another bolt of arcane energy buzzing towards them. This one hit the lead amphibian, and it turned on its fellows with a yell of fury. Before the other two knew what it was doing, it split the skull of the first with its axe and hacked at the second one with wild fury.

The other two had regained their feet, and charged Carnius as one. The first yowled as it stabbed forward with a dagger of flint, the second swinging with its club, and Carnius stepped back, knocking the knife away and using his gauntlet to absorb the impact of the cudgel’s swipe. He grunted as he felt the shock ripple down to the bone, pushing aside the pain as the one armed with the knife stabbed at him again.

He stepped to its right side, grabbing its wrist with its right hand and its slimy, wiry bicep with his left. Another step put the knife-wielding Grummite in the way of its fellow with the club, and he pushed with his right hand and pulled with its left, its own knife stabbing into its throat. He let the body collapse as sludgy brown blood leaked from its throat, facing the remainder of the amphibious beings.

The one with the axe, now recovered from Salyan’s frenzy spell, bounded forwards, already bleeding from cuts inflicted by its dead fellows. It fell upon Carnius in a fury, swinging its weapon towards him in a sideways swipe to his midriff. He blocked, but the club of the other Grummite slammed into his shoulder, the impact enough to dent his pauldron and send him stumbling back, grunting with pain.

Salyan stepped in before the two Grummites could capitalise on their advantage, plucking her lyre’s strings and sending a wave of noise in their direction. They were hurled back by the blast of arcane energy and sound, one of them landing on its neck with a crack. It did not rise, and the one with the axe, now disarmed, struggled to pull itself to its feet. Carnius reached it as it was halfway to standing and slammed his fist down on the top of its skull. The bone collapsed in with a squelch.

“That looks like the last of them for now,” Salyan observed, glancing at the doorway ahead in case any more Grummites were to emerge to investigate the commotion. She frowned as she spotted something, crouching next to one of the dead amphibians as Carnius massaged the shoulder that had taken a hit from a club. “What’s this?”

She held up a chunk of stone, one that glittered with a deep bronze colour.

“I think it’s madness ore,” she said. “Cutter said Grummites carry it on them, sometimes.”

“Might be,” Carnius said, peering at it. “Hold onto it, just in case.”

Salyan nodded, slipping it into her pack, and glanced up at Carnius.

“Your shoulder alright?” she asked.

“It’s going to bruise and I’ll need a smith to fix up my armour, but I’ll live,” Carnius said. “They got anything else worth taking?”

Salyan glanced over the other bodies.

“Not really,” she said. “Let’s go.”

The next few rooms housed only more Grummites, the stone dungeons now fetid and stinking thanks to the occupation of their semi-sapient squatters. Every one of the creatures attacked them without hesitation, swinging with crude stone weapons or shooting flint-headed arrows at them. It was in the last room of the branch, a larger one than the rest, and there was only one Grummite within it, standing by a pedestal of some kind. It was a large one, wearing some kind of ceremonial dress of carven bone, and in its hands was a length of gnarled wood, a silver crystal tied to its head with twine.

It raised the weapon when it saw them, and a bolt of lightning arced from its end. It slammed into the chestplate of his raiment, the shock of the impact knocking him to the ground. The back of his head slammed into the floor and he saw bright spots flash and spin across the ceiling above him.

He was unaware of Salyan diverting another blast of electricity with a counterspell of her own, the bard stepping forwards and over him to shield him while he was on the ground. The shaman raised its free hand and sent a wall of fire towards her, but plucked strings and a sung chord threw up a blast of force that dispersed it into a harmless cloud of hot air.

The bard drew upon arcane energies, plucking more strings and humming a note. Impelled by magical power, the discordant un-noise sliced forwards through the air and hit the shaman. It shrieked in fury as the next spell it tried to cast fizzled and died on its finger tips, and raised the staff. It managed to gather enough energy together to glow, but nothing else.

Salyan grinned. She stopped grinning as the burly creature raised the staff like a club and charged her.

She dodged out of the way as it swiped her, scrambling back. She managed to pluck a sonic blast towards it, but her aim and the magic’s focus were poor and she did little more than stagger it. In the moment’s respite she had, she kicked Carnius from where he was on the floor.

“Get up, you useless fetcher!” she managed, before she had step back from a swipe the shaman sent at her.

The shaman’s staff began to glimmer again as Salyan’s silence spell wore off, and it levelled towards her. She plucked a string and sang a note, an angled wall of arcane energy intercepting the bolt and deflecting it away to smash against the stone wall. It barrelled towards her, hurling a bolt of fire as she backed away, the impact scorching the leather of her pauldron as its glanced off it.

It stepped forwards over Carnius, readying the weapon for another blast. Salyan saw movement behind it and grinned, firing off another silence spell. The Grummite’s response was to shriek in rage and ready the stave as a club once more.

Carnius’ gauntlet slammed into the back of its skull with a wet crunch, and it toppled to the ground.

“I could’ve used you doing that a good a good few minutes ago,” Salyan said, poking the Grummite with her boot to make sure it was dead. The crushed bone and pulverised brain matter that was visible rendered the action somewhat obsolete.

“I was indisposed,” Carnius said. He looked over at the pedestal, one cut from the same crystal as the stone on the end of the shaman’s staff. “You don’t know any destruction spells?”

“I’ve not really needed them before,” Salyan explained. “I didn’t know I was going to start making a habit of exploring Grummite-infested ruins.”

“Fair enough,” Carnius said, picking up the staff. He unknotted the twine that held it in place and put the crystal in the slot at the top of the pedestal. For a moment, nothing happened, before a delicate blue light began to glow around its base. The crystal rose upwards a few inches, suspended atop a gossamer web of azure magical energy, spinning in a gentle, sedate circle.

“I think that means it’s working,” Salyan said. “So, let’s go get the other two.”

The next few hours were the same, the two of them fighting through the Grummites that infested Xedilian and being forced to deal with their more powerful shamans. By the end of it, the two of them were exhausted, their bodies and equipment battered by the surging tides of combat. Finally, however, the crystals were returned to their proper place, the amphibious beings were cleared and Xedilian was ready for operation.

“And here we go,” Salyan said as Carnius raised the Resonator to use it. He tapped the massive crystal three times, the noise ringing out across the large chamber.

The next moment, it turned dark and the horror began.