A/N: Hello and welcome to Of Mad Gods and Men! This is not my first story, but it is my first time sharing my work with others. Be warned, this story is without a beta.
As I mentioned in the summary, this story is AU. I am taking quite a few creative liberties with this by ignoring the events of the Shivering Isles DLC. I like to believe the Sheogorath we see in Skyrim is the Hero of Kvatch, but that's only a theory and it doesn't work with my story. Also, it has been left to the imagination of what happened to the Hero of Kvatch after the Oblivion Crisis and the events of the DLCS, so I decided to use that to my advantage. Pardon the short length and Sheogorath's OOCness, this is just the introduction. The first chapter should be up within a few days. I'm going to end this rant and get on to the disclaimer and the introduction!
"Anything written like this is the character's thoughts."
"Anything written like this is normal conversation."
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I, Nerezza Faye, in no way, shape, or form, own The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion or The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim. All rights respectfully belong to Bethesda
During the Blades' downfall by the Thalmor during the Fourth Era, all detailed records of the Hero of Kvatch and Champion of Cyrodiil were lost; likely destroyed by the Thalmor. Although the story of the Hero is still told and kept alive in books and songs, the identity and fate of the Champion has long been forgotten. Some say they died shortly after the Oblivion Crisis, others believe that they are still alive; lying in wait until the next Dragonborn is in need of them.
Sheogorath is acting tame, Haskill decides, which is never good for him or anyone in general. He is concerned, and rightly so. The last time his lord got like this, the Mad God was bored. And boredom never sits well in Lord Sheogorath's stomach. It makes his tummy ache and there is nothing worse than a Daedric Prince with a tummy ache. Several dead Argonian concubines, a jump rope contest using entrails, and a copious amount of cheese later, his lord was once again jolly and Haskill was left to clean up the mess as per usual. Things were back to normal. Well, as normal as the Shivering Isles can be. But this, this behavior was strange, even for the Prince of Madness.
Haskill was broken out of his reverie by Sheogorath's triumphant shout.
"Haskill! Fetch me my hat! I have a play to watch starring the wonderfully waspish Hero of Kvatch and a bewitchingly bumbling Dragonborn!" Sheogorath sings as he rises from his slouched position on his throne.
"A Dragonborn, my lord? I thought that the last one had died during the Oblivion Crisis with Mehrunes," Haskill inquires as he dutifully hands over the requested hat.
"Yes, yes. That one's dead and this one is not alive here and now but he's alive there and then. Do keep up." And with that the Mad God disappears with a loud bang and a cloud of purple smoke. Haskill watches as the smoke clears and decides that he was concerned for nothing. After all, it's not the first time his lord has decided to play matchmaker. Perhaps this time they won't kill each other.
Wiping the rain from her eyes, Sina briefly wonders which god she managed to piss off this time.
Sure, she has had bad days before, but today was abnormally bad. Having woken up this morning in a tent that was not her own in the wilds of the Nibenay Valley (she could have sworn she made camp near Chorrol) only to find that she had been somehow drugged and robbed until only the leather armor on her back and her hidden blades remained. Of course when she thought the day could not possibly get any worse, it did.
The previously bright blue sky turned grey as dense rainclouds quickly covered the sky, but it couldn't just be a quick shower and move on. No, it had to continuously pour for the restof the day. So this started her day of hell which would, of course, only become worse.
Thunder rumbled across the land and lightning stuck uncomfortably close with a loud crack! Sina ducks her head, keeping her eyes on the uneven and muddy ground of the forest as she trudges along. Periodically, she lifts her head to peer in the distance to where she's completely (not) sure the east road from Leyawiin is located, only to be rewarded with the sight of rain, trees, and mud.
"I will hunt down the bastards that did this and I'll send them all to Sithis" Sina grumbls mentally to herself as she once again trips over a stray tree root that she swears wasn't there a moment ago."I'm lost, wet, and without any food or means to buy food. Surely this day cannot get any worse."
As soon as that thought crosses her mind, her day does precisely that by opening up the ground underneath her. A surprised scream tears its way from her throat as she tumbles head over heels into the waiting abyss. Mad, cackling laughter bouncing off the walls of the earthen tunnel is the last thing Sina hears before her body hits a hard surface with a loud smack and she knows no more.
A/N: Well, that's that. Contructive criticism is appreciated while flames are most certainly not. If you have any thoughts, questions, opinions, or death threats, please send them to me via the back of an Argonian concubine.
Ta!