Authors note: There's not a lot of Shivering Isle fan fiction, which is a shame since it's such a great game. I mean the storyline is epic, right? I've wanted to write this for a while, and I finally decided to.

Summery: The Greymarch is coming and Sheogorath has to find someone to stop it…soon. But his "Champion" seems to have problems of her own to deal with. SheoXoc Rated T for language and violence.

Edit: Rewritten and edited as of 1/17/12

+Prologue+

The Chamberlain noticed something was different about his lord. While Haskill stood in his usual spot with his usual frown, the Madgod seemed rather quiet and less destructive lately. Even the dancer performed her job less, and political affairs between Mania and Dementia where left un-noticed. Haskill noticed, of course. He noticed everything.

The Madgod sat head in hand on the throne he built himself. He was deep in thought, and had barely moved a muscle for hours. Haskill was as much impressed, as he was curious, but said not a word. Instead, Haskill let the god be, thinking and thinking about problems no one know he had. Haskill knew the Madgod was slipping from his self.

The Madgod finally stood up without a notice.

"Yes, my lord?" Haskill made it as a greeting back to reality for the god. Sheogorath hadn't replied back to him. He only stood there for a moment, staring off into the distance. Haskill stood silent with him. He didn't dare think of what would happen it he cut him off of his train of thought. Luckily for him, the god finally spoke.

"Haskill."

The chamberlain looked up at him, startled.

Sheogorath turned to face him with a smile, and simply stated, "The Greymarch is coming. I need to find a champion, and soon. Real soon."

"A…champion, my lord?"

"Well, how else do you expect to end the Greymarch?" Sheogorath replied with a laugh. Haskill followed his lord around the room, hoping to get as much answers as he could from his lord. Yet, this was a strange situation, and Haskill was as curious as he was worried. He knew he probably wouldn't get a lot of answers from his rather insane master, only ramblings that make sense to no one but Sheogorath himself. The madgod was careful not to let anyone in on his surprises. Oh, how his lord loved surprises.

"End the Greymarch? My lord, what are you planning to do?"

Sheogorath turned around to face Haskill once more. Without an answer to any of Haskill's questions, he only replied back with orders.

"Open a gate to Mundus. It's time to see how tenacious these mortals really are."

Jauffre didn't belong in that bar. It didn't help matters that he was dressed as a priest either, and everyone there noticed, too. Their eyes were secretly focused on the old man as he walked toward the bartender, wondering if it was all the drinks playing tricks on them.

After all, what man of the divines would ever step foot in a place like that? In hesitation, Jauffre sat down on a tilted stool with his hands crossed on the counter.

The bartender gave him a quiet, awkward laugh. The Nord didn't know much about priests, but he was sure drinking wasn't part of their daily lives.

"You seem to be a stranger around here, sir," The Nord laughed," Do all monks hang around taverns where you from? This is a little...different from the norm."

"Not usually…" Jauffre muttered, "But I'm not here for a drink. I'm here on strict business, and I'd hope that you would help me find someone."

"Ah, "The bartender sighed, "Yeah, I could be of some help. I remember faces around here pretty well. Who are you lookin' for?"

"An Imperial known as Adaya. Do you know of her?"

The bartender took a moment of silence, looking off into the distance before he nodded as he wiped the counter clean. "Yeah, I know of her. The blonde lad? She's here at least once a week, I think. Always drinking by herself."

Finally. A lead. He questioned the Nord a little more."Do you know where she might be?"

"I don't keep tabs on people, usually. But I hear she goes to the Temple of the One often. If you're lucky, you might find her there. Still, rumors are rumors. It's just from small talk I hear from the other boys. If you're really looking for her, though, I'd start there."

Jauffre nodded in acceptance. He left three dull septims in the counter before lifting himself off the un-balanced stool to head to the Temple.

Adaya's neck ached for hours as she looked up at the statue. She never preyed to it, or even talked to it, but somehow she thought she could listen to it. Either that or she had too much ale. She sat against the wall next to rubble with a half empty bottle of ale in her hand. Martin would have given her a hundred reasons why drinking so much was immoral like he was a nagging wife. None of that mattered anymore. Not to her.

She perked her head up slightly when she heard the temple doors creak open, exposing bright sunlight into her eyes. A familiar face appeared before her, one she was sure she'd never see again.

"So…" she muttered." You finally found me." Jauffre silently walked over to the former blade. Even if she didn't want him there, she didn't object. She had no right to, not after she abandoned the blades without telling anyone. Adaya admitted to herself, she did feel guilt for that. Jauffre didn't look angry, not like Adaya thought he would, but she couldn't place the strange emotion in his face.

"It's been some time, friend," Jauffre spoke at last, "It's a shame we don't see each other more often."

Adaya didn't know why, but she felt angry at his words. Angry, possibly, because she felt even more guilt. She gulped down some more ale in response and threw the bottle to his feet. It shattered, and Jauffre jumped back in surprise.

"I don't take orders from the blades anymore," Adaya bitterly snapped.

The monk ignored the broken glass by his feet. If he was angry with her, he didn't show it. He was hurt, though, and Adaya could see it now in his expression. The meeting became awkward at that point, at least to Adaya, and she didn't help the situation either with her behavior, either. She would have apologized if she cared more.

"…How's Baurus?"

Jauffre smiled, "Leader of the Blades. "

Adaya gave a small grin, feeling much pride for her Redgaurd friend. "He deserves it."

"You would have been a great blade. The best, no doubt."

Of course. A lector. I knew there was a reason he came to bother me.

"I don't wish to be re-recruited, Jauf. Why did you come here?"

He sighed," You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you."

"Do I ever?"

Jauffre smirked.

"No. I suppose not," He sighed and continued. "A gate has opened. I don't know where it leads, but all educated guesses point to an Oblivion realm. As they usually do."

Adaya sighed in annoyance but said nothing. She knew where this conversation was going.

"People have been going into this gate," Jauffre continued, "And come out very different. They become…violent, or so I hear, as if they had gone mad. It poses a threat to anyone going in there, and to anyone around the gate."

"And I suppose your sending me in there?"

"You're the only one with any real experience in closing Oblivion gates. Anyone else would just be committing suicide. No one else can withstand it. They all come out completely...gone. Out of their minds. I never heard anything like this before."

Adaya wasn't found of the idea of going through any gate ever again, especially if going in there meant coming out more mad than she already was. She knew while looking at Jauffre's serious expression, it would be impossible for her to decline his request, however. Even if she wasn't a blade anymore, she sure as hell doesn't want to go through the Oblivion crises again. When she thought of declining, his face appeared in her mind.

Martin...

"Fine," Adaya reluctantly agreed, "I'll go. But afterwards I'm officially retired. No more missions, alright?"

Jauffre simply laughed. "We'll see," and walked toward the door. He stopped and simply added, "You'll find the gate on Niben bay. You can't miss it." He then left the temple and Nivex by herself.