"Knights," I snapped when Sheogorath asked me for a status report. "I was attacked by Knights."

He seemed somewhat surprised by that, although mostly just disinterested. "So soon? Not a surprise, I suppose. We'll get to that later. No need to burden your little brain with it now."

I gritted my teeth.

"And Xedilian? Since you're standing here, I assume you've succeeded. Or you're terribly confused. Or really lacking in good judgment."

"Xedilian's functioning again, yes," I said, remembering all the horrible things that had been done there. The adventurers' screams still echoed in my head.

Sheogorath grinned widely and cackled, "Wonderful! Time for a celebration! Cheese for everyone!" He paused as if considering it. "Wait, scratch that. Cheese for no one. That can be just as much of a celebration, if you don't like cheese. True? You've run a maze like a good little rat, but no cheese for you yet. Well, maybe a little."

"I don't like cheese," I ground out.

He seemed disappointed. "No? Ah well. You still need to defeat Jyggalag and stop the Greymarch."

That was new.

"The… Greymarch?"

"An event. A movement. An apocalypse of sorts. Happens every era, at the end of every era. Which is to say, now. The Greymarch comes, and Jyggalag walks. Or runs," he scoffed. "Never skips, sidles, or struts. Mostly, he just destroys everything around him."

Another apocalypse. Just what I needed. "Who is this Jyggalag?"

"The Daedric Prince of Order. Or biscuits…" Sheogorath shook his head. "No, no. Order. And not in a good way. Bleak. Colorless. Dead. Boring, boring, boring. And not a fan of My work, I can tell you. Hates it. Hates Me. A bit single-minded, if you take My meaning. You've seen his knights. Not the warm and cuddly sort. Not a bit of original thought in their lifeless husks. So, you're going to help Me stop him."

It wasn't as if I had much choice.

"How do you propose I do that?"

"Again with the niggling little details! Hold your tongue, or I will," he snapped. "We'll get to that, all in due time. For now, you've got other work to do."

"And what would you ask of me now?" I asked in a mockingly polite tone.

The Daedra rose menacingly to stand over me. His gold eyes flashed as he roared, "Ask? Ask? I don't ask! I tell! This is My Realm, remember? My creation, My place, My rules! Look at you. No concept of what you've stumbled into. No sense of place. You don't even really know where you are, do you?" He shrugged and stepped down from the dais. Pacing down the length of the carpet, he continued, "I suppose few really do, but that's beside the point. We're going to give you a taste of where you have found yourself. You're going to learn."

He turned abruptly, pointing his cane at me. I pursed my lips and asked, "Learn what, exactly?"

"Two halves, two rulers, two places. Meet and greet," he told me with a grin. "Do what they will, so you know what they're about. The Duke of Mania and the Duchess of Dementia. Seek them out, and let them show you what New Sheoth is. You might be surprised. Once you understand what My Realm is, you might understand why it's important to keep it intact. And maybe you'll make some friends along the way. That's always nice!"

That didn't seem likely.


I woke bit by bit, stretching out the kinks in my arms and back from sleeping in a bed after so long. As I slowly became more aware I abruptly froze. My eyes snapped open.

I'd had no nightmare taunting me with Martin's presence before ripping him away again just as quickly. Just blessed, uninterrupted sleep. That took me a moment to wrap my head around. Not once since the night he died had I been without that awful dream. But then… silence. Absolute silence. I stared at the flat gray stone of the wall.

Colored light filtered in through the room's stained glass window, sending streaks of patterned rainbows across the blanket. I climbed out of bed and brushed my fingers through my hair to untangle the strands. The stone floor was cold beneath my bare feet as I crossed the room and pulled on my armor. Sheogorath wanted me to talk to the Duke and Duchess, who were presumably almost as bad as him? Fine, but I wasn't going in unprepared. I tied back my hair and strapped my sword to my hip and quiver to my back before stepping out.

The wing of New Sheoth's palace belonging to Dementia looked like Sheogorath's only smaller, colder, and darker. Sconces of blue fire lit the main chamber, casting eerie shadows all around the hall. The throne that rested in the center of the dais was made of dark, angular stone. The Duchess was a Bosmer, dwarfed by the massive frill of spikes from the collar of her dress. Her black hair was pulled up into an elegant yet severe knot. She watched my approach with cold, narrowed eyes.

"Why do you approach the Duchess of Dementia?" She asked coolly as I stopped before her throne. "Do you seek death?"

"I was told to find you," I said, unfazed by her threat. Some of the distrust vanished from her eyes, but only a little.

"You're the one the Madgod sent, aren't you?" When I nodded, she continued, "Then you're safe for now. Speak to no one unless I instruct you to. None of them can be trusted. Do you hear me? None!" The Duchess rose from her throne and began pacing over the dais, the black silk of her dress rustling as she walked. "Surrounded by traitors and spies, I am. Always, always. They watch and wait, eager to slip a knife into my spine when I'm not looking."

I sighed. "Who do you think is spying on you?"

"Could be all of them. Every last one. None can be trusted. But they'll never take me down. Never! I'll see them all rotting in shallow graves before I let my guard down!" She paused. Slowly, she turned to look at me with a wicked smile. "You… you will help me. Yes, yes. You will be most useful."

"What exactly would you have me do?"

"You're going to find out who knows. You're going to learn who keeps secrets, who conspires against me. You will be my Grand Inquisitor." She clapped her hands together, apparently pleased by the thought. "Expose the conspirators, and they will be punished, I assure you. Find out who keeps secrets and what they are. Speak with Herdir. He will help you. Do you understand what is required of you? If no one is found, you will be held responsible."

I'd expected as much. Good to know I wasn't wrong. "Where do I find this Herdir?"

"In the torture chamber, of course." She pointed toward a doorway off the hall.

I turned on my heel and walked in the direction she'd indicated. Past the doorway was a dark, twisting hall lined with dusty tapestries and flickering torches. There was a door at the end. I pushed it open to reveal a large chamber.

Cells with rusty barred doors lined the walls and large patches of dark red blood stained the stone floor. There was some sort of cage at the room's center, surrounded by large, twisted statues of daedric monsters. As I passed by them, I heard pained groaning coming from the shadows within some of the cells. On the other side of the room, I saw a man in tattered clothes and wearing no shoes hunched over something. Upon closer inspection, I saw that he was cleaning the blood off some kind of strange, wicked-looking tool.

"Herdir?" I called.

He looked up at me with pale eyes and asked in a monotone, "What brings you to this delightful corner of the house of Dementia? How may I help you?"

"You're supposed to come with me," I told him.

"That's rather forward of you, don't you think? We've only just met and already you're ordering me around…" He smiled coldly. "I must say, I enjoy this take-charge attitude. I presume you are the Grand Inquisitor, then? Lady Syl said she'd be appointing someone. Shall we get to work? There's much to be done. So many people to visit."

"What exactly are we supposed to do?"

"Isn't it obvious? We need to search through Crucible, looking for these traitors. Talk to whoever might have information. If they're reluctant to help, you just say the word and I'll do my best to persuade them."

The way he said that sent chills down my spine.

"Really, we should be going. Her Ladyship expects results."

"What results?"

Herdir shrugged. "I don't expect we'll learn much. While I have the utmost respect for her Ladyship, she is well known for being… overly cautious. We must carry out her wishes, however. And I, for one, am looking forward to, ah… interacting with the citizens of Crucible."

I cringed at that, but swallowed my disgust enough to ask, "Where would you start?"

He appeared to be thinking hard for a few moments, gazing into empty space. "I would begin with someone close to Lady Syl. Someone you might not suspect." A slow grin appeared on his face. "Her Ladyship's steward, Kithlan."

With a name and someplace to start, the torture master led me down the halls in search of the steward. It didn't take long. The Redguard was walking toward us, absently leaving through the stack of papers in his hands.

"Kithlan!" I called. When he looked up at me in irritation, I decided to play along with the paranoid Duchess's ideas and said, "I wanted to talk to you about the conspiracy that the Duchess seems to think is going around."

He looked back down at his papers. "There are no conspiracies here. Go pester someone else."

The way he hesitated made me pause. So there really was something. I glanced at Herdir out of the corner of my eye. He was staring at me, his fingers twitching. I sighed and nodded to him. No sooner had I done that when Herdir shoved the steward against the wall. Papers went flying, scattering all over the floor and Herdir slammed his hand against the man's chest. Electricity sparked from his fingertips and Herdir cried out. I cringed. While I might have detested the Shivering Isles and been none-too pleased with most of the residents, I still didn't want… that.

"I swear. I know nothing about a conspiracy!" He begged. Herdir shocked him again and the Redguard doubled over in pain. "All right… please, just stop."

"Enough," I said. "Talk."

Kithlan took a few gasping breaths before saying, "I don't know anything specific, but Anya has been looking scared lately. More scared than usual. I think something's going on with her. Now please, leave me alone!"

Herdir let him go and he sank to his hands and knees amongst his papers, shaking hard.

"Anya?" I asked the torturer quietly.

"Anya Herrick. She serves Lady Syl."

The woman in question turned out to be outside in the palace courtyard, returning from Crucible below. She caught sight of me and her olive-green eyes widened.

"You must be Lady Syl's Inquisitor," she said, sinking into a hasty curtsey. So, word traveled fast. That… wasn't good.

"I've just been informed that you might know something about a conspiracy."

She blanched. "What? N…no. I don't know anything about anything. I'm sorry, I can't help you."

Insides twisting ruefully, I said, "Herdir."

Anya saw the torturer approaching and hastily raised her hands in a pleading gesture. "Please. I am not involved…. I didn't do anything! They wanted me to get them close to Syl, but I wouldn't abide them!"

I grabbed Herdir's arm, holding him back. "What are you talking about?"

"I… I don't know, not for sure," she stammered. "Ma'zaddha came to me, said that Syl needed to be removed, and that I was supposed to help them, or else. I would be far too afraid to turn on Syl. But I couldn't turn them in, either, because they might come after me. Please, you must do something!"


We tracked Ma'zaddha down to a meeting he was supposed to be having with Nelrene, Syl's Captain of the Guard, that night in Crucible. I told Herdir to remain behind at the palace. What I needed if I wanted to find out what was going on was subtlety, something that he did not possess.

I'd tried not to flinch too hard when he said before I left, "Please don't have too much fun without me."

The meeting was supposed to be in a dark, sewage filled alley. For several moments I was alone. Then I saw the Khajiit approaching from the opposite direction. Creeping back, I hid behind some crates under a set of rickety stairs nearby. Once I was safely out of sight, I peered out from between them. He glanced around furtively. Soon I heard boots thumping and creaking on the stairs above me. The Guard Captain came into view moments later, her iridescent armor glinting in the faint light.

"Have you made any progress?" She asked him in a hushed voice. "Will Anya assist us?"

"No," he grumbled, "that blasted Inquisitor got to her. We'll need to find someone else."

Her glare was icy as she said, "See that you do so immediately. This is the one task which you were assigned. If you cannot complete it, you will be removed. Are we clear?"

"I will, I will!" He told her hastily, taking a step back. "I want to see Syl dead just as much as you do. She cannot be allowed to survive, after what she's done. It's despicable."

"Good. I shall expect a progress report soon. And keep your head down; the Inquisitor must not become involved."

Nelrene turned on her heel and quickly left the alley, but Ma'zaddha was slower. I waited until she was gone to creep out of my hiding place and approach the Khajiit.

"Ma'zaddha," I called softly, not wanting anyone else to hear except for him.

He started at the sound of my voice. Turning, the Khajiit flashed me a hasty, sharp-toothed grin.

"Ah, I did not see you there. Have you seen any of Ma'zaddah's things? A shiny spoon, or a broken bottle? I can't find them."

I glared at him. "Don't play dumb. I know you're involved in all of this."

"I don't know anything, and you can't prove that I do," he snapped, his ears flattening.

"I heard you talking to Nelrene."

"What? I… I… It's for the good of Crucible! You must see that!" I drew my blade and his yellow eyes widened. "Please, spare me! I'll do anything!"

"Why do you want Syl dead?"

"You don't know, do you? She's kept it a secret even from you!"

Apparently no one knew how long I'd been there or how relatively unimportant I actually was.

When I kept me sword pointed at his throat, he swallowed hard and said, "She and Thadon… they've been meeting in secret. They've been doing thing together. Consorting. You understand me?"

I realized Thadon must have been the Duke of Mania. The Khajiit's meaning was perfectly clear.

"Unfortunately."

"It cannot be permitted!" He wailed. "She must be stopped!"

"Who else is involved?"

Ma'zaddha shook his head. "I don't know, besides Nelrene. She's taking orders from someone, but won't tell me who. If I find out, will you promise to spare me?"

"Fine," I said, sheathing my sword. "Just bring me the names."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! You are too kind. I shall bring you names, I promise. Meet me in my house tomorrow at midnight. I'll have the information for you."

He scrambled away up the stairs and I watched him go. All I had to do was wait.


When I returned the following night with Herdir following, Ma'zaddha's door was unlocked and slightly ajar. That was not a good sign. I nodded to the torture master and we carefully entered the house.

The main room on the ground floor was filled with clutter. Old pots, broken bottles, white bones, bent utensils. They were stacked on shelves and rested in piles all around the floor. At the center of it all was Ma'zaddha, lying in a pool of his own blood. I knelt down to check for any sign of life, but I already knew it was too late long before I felt that there wasn't any pulse.

"Damn it," I hissed. Someone had gotten there before us. Nelrene? Someone else we hadn't known about?

That was when I noticed something clutched tightly in his fist. Tugging open his grip, I found a key lying on the palm of his hand. I took it. There was nothing in the room to unlock, so I headed upstairs.

The upper floor was a cobweb-covered bedroom littered with yet more clutter. I picked my way through the mess to examine a small cabinet on the other side of the room. When I tested the key in its lock, I heard a sharp click. Pulling open the cabinet's doors, I pulled out an ornate, black sword and a crinkled note. Smoothing out the parchment, I began to read.

I haven't got much time. She's coming for me.

Nelrene asked me to hold onto this sword. Said I should give it to Anya and have her do the deed, but Anya wouldn't. Now maybe it can find a better use as evidence. Syl will recognize it.

Muurine is in charge. She's the one telling Nelrene what to do. If I'm not around, I hope this is enough evidence to bring her in.

I hope I'm alive to see it.

Through gritted teeth, I asked Herdir, "Where is Muurine?"

He smiled. "Follow me."

Herdir led me through the darkened, winding streets of Crucible to an unassuming door. I quickly picked open the lock and stormed into the house. I'd barely entered what seemed to be an elegant sort of living room when an elderly Altmer woman in a black dressing gown came down the stairs from the upper floor.

"Well, well," she said pleasantly. "You must be the Inquisitor."

"You're the one trying to have Syl killed."

Muurine smiled serenely. "I see you've done quite a bit of work to track me down." She waved her hand about in a detached way as she went on, "Yes, I orchestrated it. Syl deserves to die a painful death for turning on all of us and consorting with our enemies. Go ahead, do what you will. Nothing matters now."

I nodded toward her and said, "Herdir, take her away. I'll inform the Duchess."


Syl glared at me from her throne. It was late, but she was still awake. I wondered if she ever actually slept. It didn't seem likely that she did.

"What news do you have to report, Inquisitor?" She snapped. "Have you found who is responsible?"

"Muurine was behind it all."

A cold smile crept onto her lips. "Is that so? Very well. Meet me in the torture chamber shortly."

The Duchess got smoothly to her feet and walked away, practically gliding across the floor. Anya and Kithlan stood nearby, both with dark circles beneath their eyes, looking worried and sullen. I avoided their gaze and followed the Duchess down the hall.

Muurine was in the cage at the center of the torture chamber when we arrived. Syl stepped forward, glaring at the Altmer. The Duchess put one hand on her hip and the other on a strange lever nearby.

"You've confessed to attempting to kill me, I understand," she said coolly. "The penalty for this treachery is death, and is to be carried out immediately."

She abruptly slammed down lever. Bolts of electricity shot from the mouths of the daedra statues that surrounded the cage, striking the metal bars and the womer inside. Muurine shrieked and fell to the floor of the cage, convulsing violently. My fists clenched and I looked away. Just having to hear the strangled, tortured screams was bad enough.

Then everything fell silent. I still couldn't force myself to look.

"You see now what happens when those who oppose me fail, which they always do," Syl told me. I stared at her, disgusted. She didn't notice. Her eyes were focused on the corpse that was still locked inside the cage as she said, "I am pleased with your work. As a token of my appreciation, I shall spare your life."

How wonderful for me.