It was a beautiful day in Mania; the northern side of the realm of Oblivion, Shivering Isles. An old Breton man runs under a giant mushroom hiding from female guards wearing golden armour. The guards scatter before the Breton emerges from the mushroom. "Time to return to Skyrim and exact my revenge onto Winterhold and Whiterun. I shall bury Whiterun and watch Winterhold burn! Hopefully my laboratory isn't completely destroyed." he said as he produces a glowing stone from his satchel. He is encased in a magic purple portal and disappears.
He arrives outside a small factory in a district filled with warehouses at night. "Whiterun has grown the last time I was here. I'll need more dirt to bury this damn city." the old man thought as he lockpicked the backdoor. He walks into the factory and walks downstairs to the ancient basement and looks at a wooden wall next to him. The old man burns down the wall with a fire spell, revealing a tunnel.
Months later, several escaped insane patients in straitjackets are standing around a statue of Sheogorath, the Daedric Prince of Madness, in a dense forest. A purple portal manifests next to the statue and a man wearing a suit-and-tie under a half-purple and half-orange jacket and top hat emerges; it was Sheogorath. "Hello everyone, you all know me, Sheogorath! Gimme an S, gimme an H, gimme an E, gimme an O, gimme an R, gimme an A, gimme a T, gimme an H! What does that spell? Sheogorath!" he announced himself through a microphone he produced from his hat. "How shall we serve you, dear master?" asked a Khajiit worshipper. "Wait in your institutes. I'm going to Imperial City!" said Sheogorath as he put the microphone back into his hat.
The Dragonborn had arrived in Solitude at night after his last endeavour and rests on his couch in his home of Proudspire Manor. A knock came from the door. The Dragonborn opens it and a Bosmer male with a pointy grey beard wearing red robes greets the Dragonborn. "Greetings Dragonborn, my name is Dervenin, high priest of Mania and servant to Sheogorath. My master wishes to speak to you in Imperial City. Bring your essential equipment: armour, weapons, several sticks of butter, whatever you need for your adventures." Dervenin instructed. He disappears in a purple portal and the Dragonborn goes back into his house, with a worried face. On a small island far off the coast of eastern Tamriel, the Dunmer man who killed Sarthis is sitting on the roof of a large Telvanni mushroom house on an island.
Dervenin appears in a purple portal behind him. "Greetings Nerevarine, my name is Dervenin, the high priest of Mania and the servant of Sheogorath. My master wishes to speak to you in Imperial City. Bring anything necessary. You should go out more often." Dervenin instructed. He disappears in a purple portal as the Dunmer grabs a red short sword with a menacing face on the quillon block, and a ring with a moon and a star overlapping each other on the band, from a chest inside the tower. He jumps from the roof, lands near a cliff racer, mounts it and flies away from the island. The Dragonborn in full armour arrives at the Imperial Navy base around the White Gold Tower and is greeted by salutes from Imperial soldiers.
The Nerevarine lands in front of the White Gold Tower among a surprised crowd and runs towards the entrance. Sheogorath meets the two heroes inside the entrance, surrounded by Imperial soldiers. "What do you want now, Sheogorath?" the Nerevarine said threateningly as he pointed his sword at Sheogorath. "I know what you're wondering: why are we here? Well we all know that we saved Tamriel or Nirn or something at some point, and we need each other's help to corral some escapees from some of my… partners' realms. They're taking care of their share of the problem as I am right now. Several of mine were known as terrorists in your world so that's a big deal. The point is that we need to set things right." announced Sheogorath.
"And why is the Daedric Prince of Madness all of a sudden trying to help Tamriel?" asked the Nerevarine. "Oh I come in many names, The Mad God, Sheggorath, Skooma Cat, Hero of Kvatch, Savior of Bruma, 7th Champion of Cyrodiil and the Second Divine Crusader. If you had hung around for the past two millennia you would have heard the stories about me saving the world." explained Sheogorath. "No I have heard about the Oblivion Crisis, but I don't believe for one second a mortal could become a Daedric Prince, especially Sheogorath out of all of them." the Nerevarine rebutted. "Dragon Boy, I know you've played my Oblivion expansion, The Shivering Isles. Surely you believe me?" Shegorath pleaded. The Dragonborn gives him thumbs up in response.
"Hey, there we go! So whaddya say, wanna save the world again?" Sheogorath asked the Nerevarine. "Very well. Where should we start?" the Nerevarine asked. "There we go! Now, I have been planning this for months, so I have a plan. First, follow me outside." Sheogorath instructed. They go to the parking lot of the White-Gold Tower to an S.U.V. painted in purple on the left and orange on the right. "What is this?" the Nerevarine asked.
"This is a transportation machine people in the Fifth Era use called a Sports Utility Vehicle. Mine is manufactured by Dumac Motor Works and is called the Strider. I'll help you in, but you might need to take off your armour unless… actually it's okay if you sit naked." Sheogorath explained. He opens the left front passenger door and gestures the Nerevarine to enter. As the Nerevarine was wearing light bonemold armour so he fit inside, but sat slightly uncomfortably on the brown leather seat. "Comfy? The seats are made with netch leather!" Sheogorath said as he jumped into the driver's seat.
To be continued…