Rena took stock of her surroundings. There was no sign of which forest she was in, as the fog hid whatever landmarks could tell where she was. She looked around and the trees were not unique to any forest she'd been through. The only signs of civilizations were stone arches, walkways and two men at a banquet table.

"More tea, Pelly my dear?" one of the men asked.

This man was strange. His accent was unlike any she had heard before, some strange butchering of a Breton dialect. His clothes were equally bizarre, a fine suit colored in halves, one orange and the other was purple. His white hair and beard were that of an old man, as was his face, but his smirk was that of a child. Whoever this was didn't seem to be a normal person.

The other man was blond with tan skin and wore something far less bombastic. He seemed to be both an Imperial and an Altmer, with mannish and elvish on his face. Rena remembered the Mad Emperor, Pelagius III, was one such mix. He also ruled Solitude before his ascendancy, particularly taking the now forbidden wing as the place he rested his head. Perhaps she was seeing something out of nothing or gone mad with a lack of sleep.

"Oh, I couldn't," the saner looking man refused, "Goes right through me. Besides, I have so many things to do," he trailed off before remembering what he was going on about, "So may undesirables to contend with." Rena suddenly got very scared, very fast. "Naysayers. Buffoons. Detractors. Why, my headsman hasn't slept in three days!"

He sounded as mad as the real Pelagius III. But he couldn't be. Pelagius was dead several centuries over. Then again, this was hardly a sane situation. What was going on?

"You are far too hard on yourself, my dear, sweet, homicidally insane Pelagius," the strange man of far more sanity than first assumed remarked, "What would the people do without you? Dance? Sing? Smile? Grow old?"

Rena discovered she was wrong to assume anyone at this table had any sanity.

"You are the best Septim that's ever ruled," the strange man reassured, "Well, except for that Martin fellow, but he turned into a dragon god, and that's hardly sporting." He continued, "You know, I was there for that whole sordid affair. Marvelous time! Butterflies, blood, a Fox, a severed head. Oh, and the cheese! To die for!"

A strange comment. This man said he was there for the Oblivion Crisis, which was over two hundred years ago. No race of man lived that long. What's more, of the significant figures of the time period, she remembered none of this description. A seeming immortal and a long dead mad emperor quickly made this the strangest night in Rena's life.

"Excuse, strange sir," she interrupted.

The strange man pouted, and a portal whisked Pelagius away. "How rude!" the strange man sighed, "Can't be bothered to host an old friend for a decade or two."

Rena felt very uncomfortable with even being here. "I'm here to deliver a message," she stated.

His expression changed to a far more sarcastic one. "Reeaaaallllyyyy?" he asked, stretching the word uncomfortably long, "Ooh, ooh, what kind of message? A song? A summons? Wait, I know! A death threat written on the back of an Argonian concubine! Those are my favorite."

Rena was silent as she tried to process this weird man. "Well?" the mad man inquired, "Spit it out, mortal. I haven't got an eternity!" And then he thought for a moment and remarked, "Actually, I do." He gave a little chuckle. "Little joke. But seriously. What's the message?"

Rena blurted out, "Please don't hurt me," before realizing what she said and going quiet. She had faced many a battle, suffered defeats and even two dragons, but this man made her think she was going to die. After this, Rena assumed she wouldn't be afraid of anything again.

She collected herself and stated, "I was asked to retrieve you from your vacation."

The strange man raised an eyebrow. "Were you now?" he remarked, "By whom?"

Rena honestly forgot the name of the man who asked her to do this, but the strange man interrupted her. "Wait! Don't tell me! I want to guess!" He was deep in thought and came up with a few names. "Was it Molag? No, no, Little Tim, the toymaker's son? The ghost of King Lysandus? Or was it- Yes, Stanley, that talking grapefruit from Passwall!" And he began to pout again. "Wrong on all accounts, aren't I?

Rena nodded to confirm. "Ha! No matter!" he proclaimed, "Honestly, I don't want to know. Why ruin the surprise?" And he turned his focus on her more. "But more to the point. Do you, tiny, puny, expendable little mortal, actually think you can convince me to leave?"

Before Rena could even answer, he interrupted, "Because that's crazy. You do realize who you're dealing with here?"

Put on the spot, she could only tell the truth. "You're a madman," Rena quaked. She began eyeing the knife at his belt, hoping it stayed sheathed.

"Jolly good guess!" he cheered, "But only half right. I'm a mad god. The Mad God, actually. It's a family title. Gets passed down from me to myself every few thousand years."

Malacath's ballsack, Rena thought she found out who this was. Of all the things her nanny told her that she never cared for, there was one story she never forgot.

His.

"Now you. You can call me Ann Marie."

?

"But only if you're partial to being flayed alive and having an angry immortal skip rope with your entrails."

Yup, it was him.

"If not, then call me Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness. Charmed." He curtsied and held his hand out like a gentleman asking to kiss a lady's hand. Rena assumed he'd just as soon cut her hand off as a joke, so kept them to herself.

"So, does that mean you'll leave? Or not?" she inquired. She just wanted to get out of this nightmare.

He straightened out and put a hand to his chin, though whose she could say. "Now that's the real question, isn't it?" he remarked, "Because honestly, how much time off could a demented Daedra really need?" As much as he wanted was the answer Rena would've said. "So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to leave. That's right. I'm done. Holiday, complete. Time to return to the hum drum day to day."

Thank the Divines. Rena would even thank all Nine of them if they were behind this. But alas.

"On one condition."

What now?

"You have to find the way out first. Good luck with that."

Rena decided to try humoring him. "Simple."

"Is it?" he inquired, shoving an inquiring eye in her face. "Care to look around. This is not, I dare say, the Solitude botanical gardens. Have you any idea where you are? Where you truly are?

Rena shook her head. Sheogorath rolled his head. Rena was getting disturbed by his collection.

"Welcome to the deceptively verdant mind of the Emperor Pelagius III. That's right! You're in the head of a dead, homicidally insane monarch."

Of all the places for the Mad God to take a vacation, this was the most proprietary. And terrifying.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," he stated, "Can I still rely on my swords and spells and sneaking and all that nonsense? Sure, sure." Rena realized she should've brought her sword. "Or you could use

THE WABBAJACK!"

And from behind his back was a frightening staff. On its head was three faces with mouths open unnaturally long, in laughter or screams couldn't be discern. Rena never used magic, so using this would be challenging.

"Huh? Huh?" Sheogorath fished for a reaction, like he could get one from salmon, "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

Rena took the staff and was terrified for her life. Whatever was in this fog, she assumed her coming insanity was one of them. She hoped it would only be a brief exchange.

The captain wandered the mists, confused and afraid. She had lost the path many times, the fog too thick to even look down to see something. One couldn't help but wonder if this was by design, that if its point was to drive people insane by the sheer discombobulation. Sheogorath was known for his trickery, both subtle and gross. It made sense, which was more than what you could usually say about the Mad God.

Suddenly, Sheogorath voice echoed through the air. "Oh, good choice," he spoke with joy and condescension, "Well, good for me. I find everyone being out to get you so terribly entertaining. You might find it," he paused, "less so."

So, she was on the right trail for something, she just didn't know for how or for what. She tried using the Wabbajack to feel her way around, the most someone so lacking in magical talent could get out of it. She hit a tree by surprised and she jumped. Feeling around it, she could tell it was an archway. She chose to believe passing through it made as much sense as anything going on, so she followed its path.

Using the Wabbajack to feel the dirt path, Rena moved forward with all the caution she could muster. Doing this, she hit something on the ground and fell over onto a tree's roots. She was getting tired of being here, being unable to ground herself or find her way in this mess. She just wanted to go home. What witchcraft was making her so vulnerable in this place?

She eventually came up what she could tell was a structure when Sheogorath chimed in again. "You see, Pelagius' mother was, well," he paused for the right words, "let us say unique. Although, I suppose in the grand scheme of things, she was fairly average for a Septim."

Rena remembered where she was, in the mind of a mad emperor. As such, she supposed there would be something bizarre here. She found a flight of stairs and climbed them, trying to find something she could do. She found herself looking into an arena with Storm Atronachs locked in battle, the figure of Pelagius watching this scene with bodyguards, all clad in Dwarven armor of all things.

The Pelagius seemed strange. Well, everything in this accursed realm was strange, but the way he was acting was off. He seemed intensely focused, as opposed to the confidently mad man she saw before. He seemed as intense as General Tullius, but he was paying attention solely on the Atronach battle. It didn't seem to be something that deserved his attention, but he still watched with bated breath.

"That woman wielded fear like a cleaver," Sheogorath remarked, "Or did she wield a cleaver and make people afraid? I never get that part right." He trailed off before remembering what he was saying. "Oh, but she taught her son well. Pelagius learned at a very early age that danger could come from anywhere. At any time. Delivered by anyone."

"The objective here is simple, you simpleton!" he stated, "Use your Wabbajack to defeat the enemy, while they do the same!"

So, it was a riddle. Thing was, Rena was unsure how to make the Wabbajack work though, so began to wave it around, trying to get it to do something. She wacked it in the vain attempt to get it to fling something. She pointed it at one of the Atronachs, assuming they were a key to this, are gripped it hard, only for nothing to happen. How did Sheogorath think she could use a mage's staff?

She tried to think of some way it would work. She thought back to her tutor's lessons about magic and what the six schools of its practice were: destruction, conjuration, alteration, restoration, illusion and enchantment. Any use of magic was tied to these basic uses, no matter how broad. Her only thought was to think a word and the staff would use a spell of one of those six natures.

Pointing the Wabbajack at an Atronach, she thought, "alter" and a blast of energy flew from the staff's head. The Storm Atronach was changed into one of Flame. Their battle didn't change, fighting without advantage or sign of end. Rena cast another blast at the other Atronach, and it was changed to Ice, but there was still no change in the battle.

"Hmm," Sheogorath remarked, "Your creature doesn't appear to be fairing any better than before. Methinks your aim is off."

It was a pointless exercise, wasn't it?

Rena threw a blast of energy at the visage of Pelagius and he was transformed into a Flame Atronach. His guards, appearing to be shocked, drew swords against him. They turned on their emperor in his strange form and slew him, bursting his form into untethered flames. Perhaps detrimental to her goals, but there wasn't much to do.

"Oho! I thought you'd never figure it out," Sheogorath remarked, "With the threat gone, Pelagius is under the delusion that he is safe, which means you've helped him," he paused, "sort of. And we're that much closer to home."

The fog seemed far clearer than before and so Rena headed out to another path. "You've headed down the path of dreams," Sheogorath stated, "Unfortunately for you, Pelagius suffered night terrors from a young age."

Rena hoped she wouldn't see anything terrible.

"All you need to do is find something to wake our poor Pelagius up," he explained, "You'll find his terrors easy to repel, but persistent."

Rena came upon a clearing in the forest, empty save for a bed. Resting on the bed was Pelagius, though who knows if it was the actual Pelagius? Despite appearing to be asleep at first, his were shut with silent screaming and tears. What horrors he saw in life was surely something that caused his psychosis to worsen.

With that in mind, Rena blasted him with the Wabbajack. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Suddenly, out from the woods was a wolf. Rena stood to defend herself, but its intent was clearly against Pelagius. As it charged the bed, the captain threw a blast of alteration at it and it fell back. In a puff of smoke, the wolf was transformed into a docile goat that began to graze.

She blasted Pelagius again, as it clearly provoked a reaction.

"Ain't this a surprise?" a voice spoke up.

Out from the woods came a man stood tall in heavy armor with a war hammer in hand. When he was about to swing it down on her, Rena blasted him, and he was transformed into a child. What was strange was that be bore resemblance to Pelagius, with blond hair and a mix of elven and mannish features. She was unsure if this was a coincidence or not.

Again, Rena blasted the sleeping madman.

Out from the woods came a hag, wrinkled skin and avian features giving that away. It prepared to cast flames on Pelagius when it was blasted by the Wabbajack. It transformed into a sultry maiden in revealing clothes. Rena felt embarrassed and just blasted Pelagius again.

This time, a Flame Atronach came from the woods and was quickly turned into a bonfire by Sheogorath's strange staff. Rena assumed the foes wouldn't be that outlandish when something strange appeared. It was a skeletal creature in golden robes with no legs, seeming as ancient as draugr. The Wabbajack turned it into a chest.

With the strange skeleton defeated, Pelagius began to stir. He woke up and seemed as rested as a man who slept the night away. That was not in Rena's immediate future.

"Well now, that's something to crow about," Sheogorath remarked, "With Pelagius up and about you're moving right along. We'll both be home in no time."

Rena found the fog had lifted further and began going down another path.

"Ah, now this is a sad path," the Mad God explained, "Pelagius hated and feared many things. Assassins, wild dogs, the undead, pumpernickel," he trailed off, "But the deepest, keenest hatred was for himself."

In the middle of a clearing was an Imperial soldier, fist raised for a fight. When Rena prepared to fight him, she found he wasn't even looking at her. He was looking at what appeared to be a tiny Pelagius. He had an adult body, but it was just as tall as a babe. Rena began to figure she had lost her mind, but no, she was in someone else's.

"The attacks he makes on himself can be seen here fully," Sheogorath remarked, "They are always carried out on the weakest part of his fragile self."

Out from the woods came ghostly figures with battle axes in hand. Rena knew she couldn't take them in combat, lacking armor or weapons. But she did have a Wabbajack. She cast alteration on the man in Imperial armor and he shrunk as the tiny Pelagius grew. Another blast and the soldier shrank to the size of Pelagius before and the image of the mad emperor was as tall as a Giant. The now little Legionnaire was kicked into oblivion.

Now was for the ghosts. They struck the giant Pelagius and it caused him to shrink. Rena figured they and the Legionnaire were representation of Pelagius's broken psyche, though she didn't know what. Her mental lessons made her feel like this shit.

Out of the impression the Wabbajack was always going to solve her problems, she cast alteration on the ghosts. Much like the Legionnaire, they began to shrink as Pelagius grew, even with their protests. When Pelagius became a giant again, the ghost began to disappear into nothingness.

"Wonderfully done," Sheogorath stated, "Pelagius is finally ready to love himself and continue hating everyone else."

Rena returned to the table at the center of this all. At the table were the creatures from the former experiences, like the Dwarven soldiers and Atronachs. They were all feasting as Sheogorath was standing perfectly erect in his chair. Rena wasn't even phased.

"'gorath?" Rena inquired

The Mad God was shaken from his state with a frown. "Do you mind?" he sighed, "I'm busy doing the fishstick. It's a very delicate state of mind!"

"So's mind," Rena replied, "I've done it. I've fixed Pelagius' mind."

He shrugged. "'Fixed' is such a subjective term," he remarked, "I think 'treated' is far more appropriate, don't you? Like one does to a rash, or an arrow in the face. Ah, but no matter. Heartless mortal that you are, you've actually succeeded and survived. I am forced to honor my end of the bargain." He seemed disappointed. "So, congratulations! You're free to go!"

"Finally," Rena muttered.

He seemed to hear that. "I have been known to change my mind," he stated, "So, go. Really."

Sheogorath stood up with a goblet raised. "Pelagius Septim the Third, once the Mad Emperor of Tamriel, now so boringly sane," he gave speech, "I always knew he had it in him!" He sighed, "Well, I suppose it's back to the Shivering Isles. The trouble Haskill can get into while I'm gone simply boggles the mind."

He set his cup down and looking himself over. "Let's make sure I'm not forgetting anything," he muttered, "Clothes? Check. Beard? Check. Luggage?" He noticed his was absent. "Luggage! Now where did I leave my luggage?"

Out from a portal came the man that gave Rena this quest in the first place. "Master!" he cheered, "You've taken me back! Does this mean we're going home? Oh, happy times! I can't wait to- "

"Yes, yes, that's quite enough celebration," Sheogorath interrupted, "Let's send you ahead, shall we?"

And just as suddenly, the man was gone through a mortal. The Mad God turned to Rena and said, "As for you my little mortal minion, feel free to keep the Wabbajack. As a symbol of my," he seemed to realize he was about to lie, "Oh, just take the damn thing." And curtsied. "You take care of yourself, now. And if you ever find yourself in New Sheoth, do look me up. We can share a strawberry torte.

Ta, ta!"

And just as suddenly as before, she was back in the forbidden wing of the Blue Palace.

"I'm done!" Rena stated and left.

I get that feeling. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to punish Sheogorath for making this an extra-long chapter.

"Just try, ya talentless hack!"