Hi, everyone! I own The Elder Scrolls in no way, shape or form, but I do own Shealyne and this plot. It came from a dream! And unlike Flesh and Soul, it's pure crack! Yay!
Shealyne had hummed softly to herself, an upbeat tune escaping her throat as the Breton strolled the Market District of the Imperial City. She had loved her country's capital with all her heart. Well, her heart had stopped beating several years ago, but it was still a heart, if cold and dead.
For once, the skies were a clear blue, and not the red eye sore of a Daedric Gate opening up upon the city. The birds were chirping, the people were talking, the beggars were begging, the gladiators were dying, the Imperial Watch were watching...and somewhere there was a promiscuous woman riding her charge in The Tiber Septim Hotel.
Yes, for once, everything was fine within the Heart of the Empire. That is, until Shealyne's oblivious nature and self absorbed humming had prevented her from hearing the warnings of a merchant.
"Ooph!" Shealyne had cried, hip slamming into a cartful of oranges, causing to wooden box to shake, a round fruit rolling off and beginning to plummet to the ground.
"My oranges!" The Redguard whaled, the Breton bending to catching the fallen fruit, but alas, the ball of juicy, citrusy goodness had bounced from her fingertips, hitting the ground with a thud.
Shealyne froze in place, looking from the bruised, unsellable orange to the shocked merchant, "I'm sor-"
"You, citizen!" An Imperial Watch had called to attention, voice firm as the Breton woman turned towards the gleaming tin can, "A clever trick you just did-strategically pretending not to hear the horrified cries of this productable, hard working citizen and deliberately upsetting the balance of his cart to steal, and in the process had ruined this man's livelihood by spoiling his hard wrought produce. You are under arrest for thievery. Either you pay the fine of fifty Septims, or I throw you to rot in the dungeons."
"Fify-but my husband does not make that much money, he is a farmer, same as this man! And only one orange is soiled-not his whole crop." The woman exclaimed, flabbergasted.
The Imperial Soldier narrowed his eyes, scowling in disgust, "That's exactly the kind of excuse I would expect from your kind, Breton Trash. Pay the fine, or go jail. Your choice."
Shealyne bit her lip, pausing briefly before gasping, "Oh, my, look! It's the Gray Fox having a secret make out session with Hieronymus Lex! Scan-da-liss!" The girl exclaimed, pointing behind the Imperial, whom had instinctively turned upon hearing the Gray Fox being sighted.
"The Gray Fox! I shall uncover the identity of-hey! There is no Gray Fox!" The man yelled, turning towards the Redguard and Breton only to find the young girl long gone. Actually, she was only beginning to run down the street, yelling, "I'm sorry!"
"We got a runner!" The guard yelled, giving chase as he unsheathed his sword, several nearby men also calling to arms, "Surrender, and you might not have to taste my blade!"
Shealyne screamed as she ran, arms raised towards the heavens, "It was just an orange! I don't even eat oranges!"
"Oh, look, a fight! I got my money on the big one!" A citizen yelled, the general populace standing to gawk as a blur of red hair flew by, screaming, followed by the angry shouts and curses of the Imperial Watch. Some well meaning bystanders were even attempting to aid the law enforcers.
Shealyne ran in blind terror until she ran right into the Green Emperor Way, the Imperial Palace looming over her, as if to herald doom to all law breakers. And Daedra.
"Oh, no!" The Breton woman whaled, skidding to a halt and nearly face planting as she swiftly became surrounded by the guards, all hope lost.
She glanced at all the snarling men, dagger unsheathing. And as we all know, ladies and gentlemen, that when a dagger comes out, shit gets real. Like when a hooker kicks off her heels and uses her killer heels as axes or throwing blades.
"Night Mother, give me strength!" Shealyne hissed, summoning magica from the depths of her very wells, focusing upon all the dark magics she had learned throughout her travels to summon her most faithful and dangerous of Daedric allies as a portal opened, black mist raining down and giving form to-
"...Whaaaa...the fuuuuuuuuck?" The Breton exclaimed, flabbergasted at the summoned creature in front of her, a cabbage the only thing between Shealyne and her foes.
The Watchmen stared upon the green, layered vegetable as well, dumbfounded for several seconds before the soldiers burst into loud guffaws.
"Hahahahahaaaa! Is that all you got, Breton? I've faced mudcrabs worse than...than...a farmer's plant!" A guard pointed and laughed, the cabbage suddenly swiveling towards the man, face red and close to tears, yet he did not notice. A guttural growl escaped the green vegetable, which had began to shake it's leaves, a slit opening within itself to reveal row after row of pointy, flesh ripping teeth.
The soldier, meanwhile, continued to laugh at the creature. Until the cabbage defied the laws of physics and jumped at the man, snarling and high pitched screams filling the air as the vegetable began to eat the man's face off, blood flying onto his allies.
Shealyne stared at the scene before her, mouth agape, "...cool!"
The attacking cabbage then proceeded to jump off the man, who had fallen dead upon the floor, his allies staring in shock and horror as the cabbage rolled some distance away before turning back towards the men. The cabbage then shook it's leaves once more, flashing it's demonic teeth that were stained with blood. Forget the dagger, when cabbages attack, shit gets real.
A guard roared in rage, charging at the murderer of his friend, "I think you'll taste quite nicely in my wife's cabbage stew!" The man screamed, flinging his sword, to which the man missed, the cabbage far too short to allow his armor to bend properly, sword arm flailing madly, hitting air, "Nugh! Why...won't...you...die?!"
The vegetable then jumped, teeth biting into the man's arm as the guard howled in pain, panicking, "Get it off! Get it off!"
In his terror, the man had managed to bitch slap several of his brothers in arms so hard they had fallen unconscious, Shealyne continuing to watch, finding it fun. Then, she got an idea: summoning one cabbage was fun. Why not more?
A grin formed upon the girl's face that would have cracked her skull in half if possible, the Breton intending to summon only a few Daedric Vegetables, but ended up summoning several hundreds. And not all were cabbages. To her surprize, some were tomatoes.
"By the Nine! Call in the generals!" A Watchman cried, fleeing to muster more men as the red and green vegetables/fruits rolled and bounced their way to spread terror and doom.
"...Cool beans!...I should summon Daedric Beans!" Shealyne cheered, watching several men panic as they tried to hold off the attacking plants, a soldier attempting to step on several tomatoes, but was overwhelmed and mauled by their larger cousin: the infamous Daedric Cabbage.
Several civilians were screaming and running in terror, a squad of tomatoes striking from the shadows and sinking their razor sharp teeth into their ankles, causing those unlucky few to be tripped and slowly eaten alive.
As the battle raged on, the streets of the Imperial City filled with blood of the soldiers and citizens, as well as tomato juice and cabbage leaves, the fatalities heavy on both sides. The sack on the Imperial City had lasted through the night and in the morning. When the morning mist rolled off of Lake Rumare, the city was silent. All but one person.
Covered in blood, and various parts of plants, Shealyne rose from the wreckage of a nearby shop, beaten and bruised. The surviving cabbages and tomatoes had gathered around her, several red fruits bruised and bleeding juice from their cuts. Others were crushed, and would not survive. The cabbages had lost many a leaf, some having been signed with mage fire, forever scarred.
The Breton shook herself, looking upon all the corpses of the Imperial City's inhabitants, the Great City herself burning. She had sighed deeply, shaking her head, "All this for an orange..."
A cabbage hopped towards the woman, a golden, rudy embroidered crown in it's jaws, to which the shininess had grabbed the girl's attention.
Shealyne had scowled, "Yes. I know what I must do." She had spoken, voice firm and sure as she bent down and picked up the crown, placing it upon her head, the crown a size too big. After struggling to properly fit her symbol of power on, the woman took the time to straighten herself, clearing her throat.
"I am the fucking Cabbage Patch Queen! Sole and undisputed monarch of everything Daedric Plant...ish!" Shealyne announced, her vegetable followers bouncing in the air, some tomatoes wetting themselves in excitement...or giving themselves blunt force trauma.
"First Cyrodiil! Then all of Tamriel!" The Breton cheered, summoning several more of her rolly polly minions.
And one by one, the countries of Tamriel fell, the seemingly endless onslaught of Daedric Vegetables bringing the countries to their knees.
And so, that is how Shealyne the Vampiric Breton became known as The Fucking Cabbage Patch Queen. And in the end got bored with Tamriel and ended up becoming 'The Daedric God of Man Eating Cabbages and Tomatoes and Various Other Plants That Will Eat Your Face Off'. And the realm was called 'The Fucking Cabbage Patch Queen's Realm of Rolly Polly Daedric Plants'.
And then everyone lived happily ever after. Well, except the people who died. They're just dead.
Thank you for reading! To Make a Dead Heart Beat will be updated in a month or two, possibly less. I just love making fun of my own characters. But either way, I'm probably halfway through the next chapter of Dead Heart, and Hadvar is in it once again! Yay! The romance will be rather slow, so I apologize for that. Either way, thank you for reading and supporting!