"A Daedric artifact, huh? That doesn't sound too taxing. I'll return soon enough, my friend." Elisif turned on her heel and sped out of the grand hall of the Temple, barely a word to anyone on the way. Distance from Martin and his new conversation piece was essential.

Losing the Amulet of Kings to Camoran's Paradise was a terrible thing indeed, but at least she had managed to snag the Mysterium Xarxes from under the noses of all those cultists. At first she had been, among other things, pretty impressed with her own work. Utilizing her stealth under such a difficult situation as that was very rare, and she hadn't had to kill but perhaps two of the fanatics. All of that was with a naked, terrified Argonian in tow.

The self congratulatory manner wore off pretty quickly the longer she lugged the book around, however. It hummed with energy, beckoning her and anyone else around to open it. The strange desire she felt for the blood fount in Oblivion was nothing but a shadow compared to the itch in her fingertips as she removed the haversack from her shoulders and pulled out the horrid tome.

Such an ugly thing, truth be told, but how it sang for her. Just a gentle caress across the cover without her gloves, and she was in bliss and agony all at once. The symbol of Oblivion burned her skin terribly, yet when she jerked away to observe the damage, the fingertips were whole and chilled by the night air. Tossing the book into the pack once more, Elisif was shocked to find that the moons had traveled considerably since she first took it out. Half the night had passed by while she lovingly stroked that godsforsaken book.

Long story short, whenever the chance came for her to leave on whatever journey Martin could come up with, Elisif fled the Temple as fast as her legs could carry her.

The only problem with the present journey was that she had no idea where any Daedric shrines were, or which ones to visit. Though her moral compass did not point true north, there were some things even she wouldn't do. Luckily, the Mage's Guild helped a great deal with locations, and most of them were Princes that intrigued her at any rate.

Nocturnal was first on her list, all the way down in Leyawiin, and yet the boon, a lockpick that could open nearly any lock and never break, was too great to pass up. Not to mention that our Lady of Shadows would probably not be pleased with her if she gave up such a brilliant item. It would be in poor taste were the Grey Fox to shun her Lady.

So instead she went to Sheogorath's Shrine, for though he truly was mad as the day is long, he was also the Prince of creativity. True to his reputation, the Mad God desired that she travel to a small town inhabited by Kahjiit and convince them that the end time were upon them. It was, without a doubt, a morally grey area, but really, what harm could pranks really do? A few dead sheep, the destruction of some truly horrifying cheese, and a plague of flaming dogs raining from the sky earned her the Wabbajack. A curious weapon indeed, and probably useless in most situations, but she couldn't think to part with it either. Holding the Skeleton Key did not affect her, perhaps because she already thought in terms of shadow and secrets, but the Wabbajack...it was as though she could sense the Mad God fairly oozing from the thing. Yet for some reason, this did not horrify her at all. Instead she delighted in it, nearly took comfort in it. After storing it away, a great shame came over her that she would desire to keep something from a Corner of the House of Troubles. Still, she did not part with it.

Success finally came when visiting the Shrine of Sanguine.

"Greetings mortal. Here to have a little fun? Add a bit of debauchery to your life? I can see the potential. Yes, you might do for a champion." The voice echoed through her mind in a devastating way. The other Princes did not place images in her head, but this one-Gods above, the thoughts that flickered through her mind as he spoke were so racy, so depraved and debauched, that she actually stood there blushing and averting her gaze from the statue.

"How sweet! You're embarrassed, mortal! This will definitely be fun." He went businesslike after that, describing a dinner party at County Lleyawiin that she was to disrupt. Of course, she would get caught in this act and have to run for her dear life, but he insisted that it was worth it.

Three hours later as she stood in naught but her smallclothes, shivering and wet from the near constant rain of the region, Sanguine gifted her with his Rose. As she took hold of it, admiring the woodwork and intricate rose details, he spoke again.

"That foolish mortal you serve was my Champion before you, you know? Of course you do; I see that plain as day. I also know your quest, my champion, and while it would be positively rude to offer up my beautiful Rose, not to mention wasteful, I'll allow it so long as Martin has to hold it beforehand. He must recall what he is missing, you know." He waited for her nod before continuing. "Good! Now off with you, Mortal!"

"Finally! We began to worry that you had met foul play." Martin gripped Elisif's arm and smiled tiredly, gesturing for her to sit. The damned book was still sitting there, but at least he'd had the foresight to close it. "Did you have trouble retrieving an artifact?"

Elisif pondered a moment before answering. "Not trouble, exactly. I actually encountered two Princes whose rewards were too seductive to give up. I did eventually pick one that suited my needs. In fact, he insisted that I use it for this purpose." She was no fool; she knew Martin's past with this. She could not deny that there was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to do what Sanguine had suggested, to give up the Sanguine Rose and watch Martin's reaction. Friends though they were, the will of a Daedric Prince was hard to resist.

"Oh? Let's see this artifact then. Whose is it?" Elisif hesitated but eventually stood and brought the staff to Martin's side, offering it to him.

"W-why this one?" the Emperor groaned, his hands trembled as he took the staff in hand. His fingers caressed the well oiled wood as his eyes traced the details, "I once possessed this, so fleeting...a lifetime ago, it seems now."

"I know." Elisif said softly, watching him warily as he continued to clench the handle. He glanced up at her, and she saw it in his eyes, the same as what was in her own when the Xarxes was first brought forward. Obsession.

"To...obtain this, and give it up again so quickly...I admire your dedication, my friend." Martin's words were halting, his breath coming faster, and Elisif reached out, gripping his shoulder lightly, shaking him.

"Martin?" she murmured, and he stood, Rose in hand, and took her in his arms, lips colliding. She struggled at first, but then the strangest feeling came over her. Her Sanguine-tinged thoughts of before returned, and she openly moaned into his mouth. The former Sanguinite knew his way around the female form quite well, she knew, and this only from his roaming hands and starved lips. The otherworldly lust was sweeping through her faster than she could think to resist, and her hands were tugging at his priestly robes just as his own shaking fingers flicked back the buckles of her armor. The sound of a door bursting open and the feel of cold wind whipping around them was not nearly enough to deter their behavior as Martin hoisted her up on the table.

Through the sensual haze she could hear a rather sinister chuckle, as well as his words of "Well done, my Champion!" Immediately she snapped out of it, pushing against Martin in an attempt to force him out of this fog. When he merely chuckled and mentioned her teasing behavior, she slapped him roughly across the face.

The stinging slap echoed in the great hall, and Martin the Priest returned to himself only to find Elisif on bended knee.

"A thousand pardons, Martin." she spoke, peering up at him, "My will is not as strong as I would like, where this artifact was concerned. I fear Sanguine had a great deal of influence over me. I never would have given it to you had I known this would happen."

"Stand up, already!" Martin barked impatiently, lifting her to her feet himself and sitting the Rose down on a table. "You might have noticed that I was also affected. There is no shame in this. It is simply the way things are."

When the moment came that she could flee the Temple once more, she wasted no time, bustling from the place with another job from Martin. Jauffre, who had seen most of what had happened, curtly ordered her to lead Captain Burd and his men through the Oblivion Gate at Bruma, which she agreed to without bothering to stop. She could feel the old man's eyes on her back, feel his disapproval. He thought her a whore, no doubt.

Still, it did not bother her. As she trotted down the mountain path towards the Oblivion Gate, she recalled something that had been said to her a long time ago, and the unwanted tingle in her lips was perhaps evidence of its truth. Sanguinites make the best lovers.