Amalia Farseer liked to think she had a relatively normal schedule. Get waken up by Lydia, get dressed, fight off Thalmor Assassin/Dark Brotherhood, eat breakfast, say hi to neighbors, get arrested for trying to kill Nazeem, pay off fine, go for a morning run.
You know, normal stuff.
So this time, when Amalia was dumping out the body of the nauseous Thalmor that had decided to wait in a barrel for his attack, (She won that fight by smacking him with the lid and rolling him down the hill outside the gates until he gave up) Amalia was accosted by a message courier. It was then she would be sent on one her strangest adventures yet.
"Excuse me, miss? I've got a message for you." The courier said, reaching into his back knapsack and pulling out a letter, "Says it's from Falk Firebread, you've got some friends in high places."
Blinking, Amalia took the letter and skimmed it.
"Let's see here here...Wolfskull cave...Can't describe in detail...Blue palace?" Amalia furrowed her brow, "Oh right, the Jarl's place. Didn't even get to see her last time." Looking up, she went to thank the Courier, but discovered he was gone.
"Huh, he was self cleaning." Amalia said, nodding in approval.
"My Thane?" Lydia called out, "Are you done torturing that Thalmor yet?"
"Almost!" Amalia called back, then looked down to the high elf that was trying to crawl away, "Okay, you can go. See ya next week Ser."
Letting the Altmer go with his tail in between his legs, Amalia walked up to her Housecarl, "Pack your bags Lydia, we're going back to Solitude."
The trip to Solitude was a remarkably short one. Mostly because Lydia had insisted on using the carriage, despite Amalia's protests.
"Come on Lydia! Think of all the things we could see on the way!" She had tried very hard to make Lydia see her point of view. Lydia, for her part, countered by holding a shiny ring and throwing it in the carriage. Giving the driver the signal to go as soon as she jumped in.
As it turns out, much like a dog, Amalia can't resist shiny objects.
So, one carriage trip to the imperial capital of Skyrim latter, Amalia and Lydia walked through the streets of Solitude.
Ignoring Jaree-Ra's offer again, Amalia walked with her hands behind her head in a swaying walk.
"So, what do you think Falky wants to talk to us about?" Amalia asked, swishing around to face Lydia and started walking in reverse.
"Most likely he wants to discuss Wolfskull Cave. He did mention it in his letter." Lydia replied, scanning the letter as they walked.
"Huh. Didn't think he'd want to see us again." Amalia said offhandedly.
"Why's that, my Thane?"
Amalia cringed, "Well…."
"My Thane…."
"To be fair, I didn't spit on the back of his head." Amalia said in way of explanation, "But I may have...broken the lock to his house and ran through his house."
"You did what?!"
"To be fair, I wasn't naked. But I did have my weapon brandished."
"...Why?"
"You know I have a low alcohol tolerance! We shouldn't have gone drinking when we got back!"
"You live in the land of the Nords! You have Nord parents!"
"I'm an orphan! You know I'm adopted! I've told you this!"
"Even so!"
"What does that even mea-" Amalia was cut off as she bumped into somebody and lost her footing. Causing her, and the person she bumped into, to fall to the ground with a loud thud!
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Scrambling upright, Amalia quickly held a hand to whoever she had bumped into, "Are you okayeehhh?"
"My Thane?"
The mer she had bumped into, a dark skinned bosmer wearing farmer's clothes and a hat. Utterly ordinary, but, his eyes were mad, and black as chaos with twin piercing lights for pupils.
Whatever the reason for it, the mer didn't seem to care all that much he had ran into, in fact, he seemed to be focused on another thing entirely.
"You! You'll help me! You help people, right? That's what you do!" He rambled on, "Please! Won't you help me?"
"Uh…." Amalia looked to Lydia for help, who quickly flashed her the "No" sign, "Sure! What do you need?" Amalia asked, smiling at the mer.
Lydia face palmed.
"My master had abandoned me! Abandoned his people! And now he refuses to even see me! He says I interrupt his vacation! It's been so many years…." The mer drowned on.
"Why don't you just leave your master then?" Amalia asked.
"Oh, you just don't understand. Without him, I am not free! Without him, I am doomed! All of his empire shall fall into chaos..."
Amalia and Lydia shared a look.
"What empire? Who is your master?" Amalia asked, bewildered.
"He is a great man, but one rarely praised! He rules twin empires that span the length and breadth of our minds! All know him, but few can name him! But... he has forbidden me from saying his name. He says it distracts him, and woe to those who draw his ire. But you will know him when you see him. He's the one who made me like this!" The Mer explained loudly, earning weird looks from passersby.
"My Thane, I believe this elf is insane. We should leave." Lydia whispered into Amalia's ear.
"But Lydia...He needs our help." Amalia whispered back.
"I know you like to help others but there are limits." Lydia responded.
"But….Okay." Finally receding under Lydia's look, Amalia raised her hand and started to walk away, "Sorry mister...whoever you are, we'll look for your master if we can, but there's not much we can do."
They had made it all of one foot before a hand grabbed Amalia from behind her spinning around with surprising strength, the mer held up an item.
A...hip bone?
"Last I saw him, he was visiting a friend in the Blue Palace. But no one as mundane as the Jarl. No, no... such people are below him. No, he went into the forbidden wing of the palace, to speak with an old friend. Said it had been ages since they had last had tea." Shoving the hip bone into her hands, the mer continued talking, "Oh and you'll need the hip bone... it's very important. No entering Pelagius' Wing without that."
Stunned temporarily, Amalia glanced down at the hip bone in her hands, "Hey, what's the big-" Looking up, Amalia blinked, "idea?"
The mer was gone, and the Dragonborn and Housecarl were the only ones left in the streets.
Entering through the doors yet again and ascending the steps, Amalia walked up to Falk Firebread and nodded in hello. He merely sent a small glare her way in return.
"Hehe...Hey Falkly...sorry about ruining your vase…."
"You cut it clean in half."
"It was an accident! I swear."
"Dragonborn, you broke into my house."
"...I'm not that great at holding my liquor." Amalia admitted sheepishly.
"...Quite." Falk said, rubbing his head.
"Hehe, anyway, I got a letter from you about wolfskull cave?" Amalia asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid it's not good news. When you broke up the bindings Potema escaped. We've encountered some of her minions." Falk began, "Styrr says she's still in spirit form or we'd all be dead already. You've already done us a service in stopping the binding, but I need you to go talk to him, see if Styrr can tell us what to do next."
"Whose Styrr?" Amalia asked.
"He's Solitude's priest of Akray." Falk explained, "He's the one who figured out Potema was still around. He'll help us as much as he can."
"I'll talk to Styrr. We'll figure something out." Amalia nodded.
You could hear the gratefulness in Falk's voice. "I wish you well, be careful."
"One last thing, I need to get into the Pelagius wing."
Then came the stone dead: "Absolutely not."
"Why not?!"
"That wing has been sealed for hundreds of years, and for good reason. They say the ghost of Pelagius the Mad still haunt it." Falk responded.
Amalia thought back to all the times she had encountered a dead person in a tomb.
"I'm sorry!"
"Fus Ro Dah!"
"Unslaad Koriss!
"Qiilaan Us Dilon!"
"Volsung!"
She found it hard to disagree with him.
"I can see how, but still…."
"Besides, ghost or not, there are reminders of his dark rule that are best left buried away." Falk stated flatly.
"Falk, you know I'll be careful. I'm not drunk anymore!" Amalia protested. Even in her mind, Amalia had to admit it was a pretty weak defense, "Come on, please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?" Amalia gave him her best doe eye expression. Now keep in mind, Amalia may have a fun loving personality, but lately she had been taking on more...dragon traits. So it was less "cutesy doe" and more "dragon trying to look nice." It had...quite the effect.
Feeling a sense of dread creep up his spine, Falk Firebread relented, "Fine. I'll make an exception for you. But do not bring anything out when you leave, too many dark deeds transpired in those halls…."
"Yay! You're the best Steward ever!" Giving Falk a quick hug, Amalia grabbed Lydia before she had a chance to protest and dragged her into the east wing.
"...We're all doomed." Falk observed calmly, causing Sybille behind him to snort.
"My Thane, what are you doing?!" Lydia demanded to know as Amalia held onto her arm as they entered the Pelagius wing. True to how Falk described it, the entire place was covered in cobwebs, smelled of dusty tomes, and even gave off a sense of foreboding.
"Just keep going la de la!" Amalia sang, walking through the halls with a quick pace.
"My Thane! Wait one moment!" Lydia curled her fingers and wrenched her arm outta Amalia's grasp, "What has gotten into you?"
Amalia shrunk back meekly, "Well, it's just...spiders."
"Spiders." Lydia repeated, just to make sure she heard this right.
"Spiders."
Lydia, at this point, sighed. She was starting to get used to Amalia's quirks, but this was getting a little ridiculous. In their adventures, they had taken down all kinds of creatures; dragons, men, beasts, a scary looking clown, and everything in between. So, it was a little hard to swallow that the Dragonborn, slayer of evil, would be scared by such a little thing.
"But, what about the frostbite spiders?" Lydia asked, "You've killed plenty of those,"
"Well, yeah, but those are so big so they're easy to hit." Amalia answered.
"...Honor to you, my Thane." Lydia sighed, dropping the topic.
Searching the rooms of Pelagius the Mad, Amalia and Lydia traversed the deadly spider webs of evil….and pain...and origin stories.
"Hey Lydia." Amalia spoke up.
"Yes my Thane?"
"When do you think we'll find this Pelagius guy?"
"My Thane, he's been dead for hundreds of years. It's most likely his body has degraded over time, if it's here at all." Lydia answered.
Coming to an empty hallway, Amalia walked forward through the cobwebs.
"I have a bad feeling about this…" Lydia said forebodingly.
Amalia turned to stare at her as she walked on ahead, "I have a bad feeling? Now something bad really is gonna-"
"Happen?"
She was no longer walking through the hallway, that much was certain. Instead, she was standing in a clearing in a misty forest, a table filled to the brim with fine dining sat in the center, stone archways lined the landscape. Looking down, Amalia noticed with some surprise that she was no longer wearing her usual light armor, instead, she was wearing fine clothes and a hat.
"More tea, Pelly, my dear?" An odd voice lined thick with an accent spoke up. Eyes darting to the source of the noise, Amalia saw two people dining at the table. One of them wore a very distance outfit, with an odd contrast of colors. The other...not so much. In fact, in Amalia's humble opinion, she thought he could use a tan….and maybe some time not in a misty forest that looked like something out a horror story.
"Oh I couldn't. Goes right through me." The depressed man said, "Besides, I have so many things to do…So many undesirables to contend with. Naysayers. Buffons. Detractors! Why, my headsman hasn't slept in three days!"
"You are far too hard on yourself, my dear, sweet, homicidally insane Pelagius. What would the people here do without you? Dance? Sing? Grow old?" The other man said in a jolly tone, "You are the best Septim that's ever ruled. Well, expect for that Martin fellow, but he turned into a dragon god, and that's hardly sporting…"
Amalia blinked, having walked up to the table as the two chatted on. Too engrossed in their conversation to notice her. But, did the jolly man say Pelagius? As in...Pelagius the Mad? Wasn't he dead? And if that was the case….where was she?
"I don't think we're in Skyrim anymore Toto…." She whispered to herself.
"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." The man with the strange clothes recalled fondly.
The supposedly deceased Emperor sighed, "Yes, yes, as you said, countless times before."
"Funny bread man" looked offended by this, "Hafrumph! Well then, if you're going to be like that….Perhaps I should take my leave! Good day to you sir. I said good day!" He proclaimed harshly, causing Amalia to giggle at the sound of his voice. Honestly, it was hard to take him seriously. Granted, all the casual talk of blood and what not was a little off putting...but Amalia lived in a place where the locals revered battle and bloodshed, so by now she was a little used to it.
Pelagius the Mad didn't seem bothered by this however, "Yes, yes go. Leave me to my ceaseless responsibilities and burdens…" With that said, and all done, the Mad Emperor disappeared in an orb of arcane energy.
Leaving only Amalia and the madman in the clearing.
"How rude!" The remaining man proclaimed, (though Amalia doubted he was a "man" at all), "Can't be bothered to host for an old friend for a decade or two."
Taking that as an admission of existence, Amalia raised her hand, "Hello."
"Greeting lass! What can I do for you?" The man replied in a cheery tone.
"If you don't mind me asking, who were you talking to?"
"Emperor Pelagius the Third." The man answered without a beat.
"...Isn't he dead?"
"Now surely even you know about Pelagius decree Dragon lass? On his deathbed-oh, and this was inspired-he forbade...death! That's right! Death! Outlawed!"
"...How'd that work out for him?"
"Pretty well, actually. Did wonders for the local bandits. You should've seen it! Blood! Debrauchy! Falling Watermelons! Ah, good times." The man remembered, a smile plastered on his face.
"Huh. Well, do you know where we are?" Amalia asked, looking around.
"Inside the mind of Pelagius, silly." The man replied without missing a beat.
"...What."
"World's best accent" blinked, "Oh, is this your... first time?"
"...I really don't like the way you said that." Amalia said, a feeling of confusement welling up in her stomach.
"Ha! What till Martin hears of this! He's going to be throwing such a-"
"Moving on. I think I'm supposed to deliver a message." Amalia said brusquely.
"Reeaaaallllyyyy?" "Strangely golden eyes" drawled out. Wait….
"Um, by any chance, are you-" Amalia began, but was cut off.
"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."
"..."
"Well, spit it out mortal! I haven't got an eternity! Actually, I do. Little joke. But seriously, what is the message?" The immortal demanded.
"I was asked by this one guy to get you to come off from your vacation...I think." Amalia answered.
"Weere you now. By whom." The daedric said, not asked, said, "WAIT! Don't tell me, I want to guess." Rubbing his bread, the mad god thought for a moment, "Was it Molag? No, no….Little Tim, the toymaker's son ah?! The ghost of King Lysandus? AH! Or was it...Yes! Stanely, that talking grapefruit from Passwall, haha!"
Amalia blinked.
"Wrong on all accounts aren't I?"
The dragonborn nodded dumbly.
"Ha! No matter! Honestly, I don't want to know. Why ruin the surprise?" Crossing his arms, the daedric looked at Amalia, but, it was more like he was looking into her soul.
"Uhh…"
"But more to the point-Do you," His voice took on a deadly edge, "tiny, puny, expendable little mortal-actually think you can convince me to leave?"
"Yes?" Amalia said without thinking.
"Because that's...crazy. You do know who you're dealing with here?"
"A madman?"
"Jolly good guess! 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. But you. You can call me Ann Marie."
"Why-"
"But only if you're partial to being flayed alive and having an angry immortal skip roope with your entails. If not, then call me, Sheogorath, Daedric prince of Madness. Charmed."
"Oh. Um, Amalia Farseer. Dragonborn, nice to meet you?" Amalia bowed, she didn't know why, but it seemed...respectful?
"Nice to meet you lass! Now, quit staring at the ground, it hasn't done anything yet! Or...has it?" Sheogorath's golden eyes quickly darted to the ground as well, as if expecting it to attack at any moment.
The silence continued for some time.
"Well...um….Are you going to go back...or…?"
"Well, now, that's the real question isn't it? Because, honestly, how much time off could a demented Daedra really need?" Without waiting for an answer, Sheogorath clapped his hands together, "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. On one condition."
Amalia tilted her head.
"You have to find the way out first. Good luck with that."
"What's the catch?"
"Ha! I do love it when the mortals knows that they're being manipulated. Makes things infinitely more interesting." Stepping out from his throne, the Daedric prince spread his arms out, guiding Amalia's attention to the surrounding area, "Care to take a look around? This is not, dare I say, not the Solitude botanical gardens. Have you any idea where you are? Where you truly are?"
"...The mind of a dead monarch?" Amalia said.
"That's right! How did you know? Can you read minds? Cause I knew a man who could do that once. Bit of an ass, really. Easy to beat in cards though, aaahhh the irony."
"Uhhh...you told me like five minutes ago." Amalia said, scratching the back of her head.
"Oh right. That I did. So, what are you going to do about that?" Sheogorath's voice went from calm and jolly, to "can make a dragon back down" in one interval.
"...eep." Was all Amalia could think to say.
"Ah, I'm just jossing with ya! But, back to the subject at hand, I know what you're thinking. Can I still rely on my swords and spells and sneaking and all that nonsense? Sure...Sure...But you could use…"
Just like that, a four foot long metal staff plopped into Amalia's hands. It was heavy, and even a novice could tell it was filled to the brim with demented power.
Sheogorath, taking a seat back on his throne, gave off a charming but homicidal smile, "The Wabbajack! Huh! Huh? Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you?"
"Errr…." Amalia shifted the staff around in her hands, trying to get a feel for it.
"Now then lass, off you go." The Prince said, waving his hand.
"Go? Go where?" Amalia asked, stopping her weight testing/twirling.
"To Pelagius's mind silly! Unless, of course, you're lost. But that's impossible. Just follow the arrows! They always tell ya where to go! Or is that the yellow brick road?"
"Uhh…."
"Well, wait are you waiting for? You have a quest don't you? Hop to it!" Clapping his hands, Amalia took the message and headed off towards one of the stone arches.
"Huramph, kids these days. Dear old Martin's not gonna be happy to hear this, but not to worry, I've got his favorite feather spell all nice and ready for him! Hope his granddaughter doesn't mind it though."
Passing through one the arches, and hugging herself to pass off the sudden chill, Amalia walked through a narrow passway in the forest.
"You've headed down the path of dreams." Sheogorath's voice came in, as clear as day, "Unfortunately for you, Pelagius suffered night terrors from a young age. All you need to do, is find something to wake our poor Pelagius up. You'll find his terrors easy to repel...but persistent."
Coming to another clearing, there sat a large, two person bed with a small child lying in it. The world also seemed to take on a slightly red color. Amalia chalked it up to it being a mind of a dead guy and left it at that.
Walking up to the bed, Amalia snapped her fingers in front of his face. That didn't work. So, she tried pulling on his ear, no dice. Tapped him with the end of the Wabbajack. No luck.
This went on for a while, long enough for Amalia to let out a loud "Eufff!" And let out a charged blast from the staff to the kid.
THAT had some effect.
Namely, a three foot tall wolf came out of no where and rushed her. Reacting quickly, Amalia jumped back to the side, letting the wolf sail past her. Undeterred, it bared it's fangs and charged again. Twirling her staff in an elaborate pattern, Amalia knocked the wolf clean out of the air in one swipe.
"Heh, take that you little...oh come on."
For whatever reason, the wolf was completely undamaged, despite having a metal staff smack into the side of it's head, it remained unharmed.
Sighing, Amalia charged up the Wabbajack again, this time as the Wolf prepared for another charge, but low and behold, it warped and twisted with a swirl of red energy into...a goat.
"Baaah." It moaned, then went to munch on some grass.
"...Huh. That happened." Amalia looked over to where the child lay, figuring that hitting him with another spell was the only way to proceed. Upon doing so, a redguard bandit chef dressed in steel armor showed up out of nowhere.
"Now, ain't this a surprise." She, it, said, swinging her war axe at Amalia's head. Bringing up the staff just in time, Amalia blocked the axe head under the little space between the handle and the blade. Twisting the axe, and the arm along with it, Amalia shoved the Wabbajack into the bandit's stomach, where she promptly unleashed another spell along with it.
This one turned into a small boy, who promptly turned and walked away. Completely ignoring Amalia.
Blinking, Amalia just settled on blasting the mad child with another shot from Wabbajack, she was starting to get used to this…
This time, an old, batty hagraven appeared. Which let out a fireball at Amalia, who, in return, just let out another shot from the staff. She was a Berton after all, high magicka resistance for the win.
As the Hagraven transformed into a wench in slutty clothing, Amalia gave Pelagius a quick smack on the head and another Wabbajack shot for good measure. This one turned out to be a flame Atronach, but a quick shot quickly ended that far fire.
"How many of these things are there?" Amalia asked no one in particular, looking at the newly made bonfire.
With a bored look, she shot the Pelagius child one last time.
There was a rattling of bones. Turning around, Amalia saw that one of her worst enemies had appeared. A dragon priest, servants of Dragons during the war. Horrible people who performed horrible deeds to their fellow man. Each of them now lay in rest in select coffins scattered across Skyrim, waiting for some adventurer to wake them from their eternal slumber.
Amalia blasted it with another Wabba-shot and smiled as it turned into a chest. Seemed legit.
"Well, that's something to crow about." Sheogorath's voice came in again, "With Pelagius up and about and you moving right along. We'll both be home in no time."
Taking a look at the now fully grown Pelagius, Amalia shrugged and walked back through the stone archway.
"Oh, good choice. Well, good for me. I find everyone being out to get ya is so terribly entertaining. You might find it...less so."
"You have no idea…."
Using the Wabbajack as a walking stick, Amalia sighed, these days, seemed like everyone was out to get her. Some Nords thought she should take the chance to become high king, the Companions wanted her to become Harbinger, the mages thought she would be an excellent master, the imperials wanted her to join them, the stormcloaks said that as Dragonborn, she should exile anyone from Skyrim who wasn't a Nord.
That, and the Thalmor wanted her dead. Oh, and some guy kept putting out an assassination contract out on her, if the Dark Brotherhood was any indication. Also, she couldn't walk ten feet without getting into some kind of trouble. It was like some force was making sure her life was moderately interesting.
"You see, Pelagius's mother was...well….let us say "unique." Sheogorath pondered, "Though, I suppose in the grand scheme of things, she was fairly average for a Septim. That woman, wielded fear like a cleaver. Or did she wield a cleaver and made people afraid? I never get that part right."
Coming up to a stone colosseum, Amalia made her way up the steps, with Sheogorath talking on in the background, "Oh, but she taught her son well. Pelagius learned at a very young age that danger could come from anywhere. At any time. Delivered...by anyone."
Finally arriving at the top, Amalia stumbled upon a strange scene. Well, not so much "strange" as, "out of place." Two storm Atronachs were at the ground floor. Beating the everloving crap outta each other while three men in Dwarven armor sat on the other side. Watching the combat with an air of disinterest.
"The objective here is simple, you simpleton! Use your Wabbajack to defeat the enemy, while they do the same!"
Amalia took a look down at the two forces beating the everlasting mead out of the other. With a curious glance, she sent a spell down to one of them, causing a storm atronach to transform into a frost one.
"Huh." She sent another at it, causing it to transform into a fire one. Giggling, she looked up to the three men and sent a Wabbajack spell that way. Sure enough, the two men transformed into dogs.
"Oho! I'd thought you'd never figure it out." Sheogorath's voice came in, sounding jolly as ever, "With the threat gone Pelagius is under the delusion that he is safe, which means you've helped him...sort of. And we're that much closer to home."
Blinking, a frown came onto Amalia's face, "But I was having fuuunnnn…." She whimpered, walking back down the steps.
"Okay last one."
Passing through the last archway, Amalia walked through a blue forest. Literally. The very air was colored a depressing blue.
"Ah, now this is a sad path. Pelagius hated and feared many things. Assassins, wild dogs, the undead, pumpernickel..."
"But….Pumpernickel is delicious!" Amalia shouted back to the heavens.
"But the deepest, keenest, hatred, was for himself."
Sheogorath's words were true. Coming to the last clearing, Amalia saw a large imperial soldier beating upon a small, insecure Pelagius.
"The attacks he makes on himself can be seen here fully. They are always carried out on the weakest part of his fragile self." Sheogorath narrated as the soldier beated on the smaller man, "The self loathing enhances Pelagius's anger! Ah, but his confidence will shrink with every hit. You must bring the two into balance."
Taking this as a clue to, "Hit something with the Wabbajack until something happens." Amalia settled on blasting the smaller man until he was equal to the larger soldier, then Amalia blasted him until he was as small as the man. Some ghosts came out with weapons, but they proved to be an annoyance at best.
Soon enough, Pelagius the Mad's confidence stood tall, while his anger remained little. Still put up a fight though.
"Huh." Amalia said, watching the little anger swing away at the much larger confidence, who was completely ignoring it.
"Wonderfully done. Pelagius is finally ready to love himself...and continue hating everyone else."
With all three said and done, Amalia walked up to the Daedra, "I've done it. Pelagius's mind is fixed. Can I go home now?" She asked.
"Hmmmm... "Fixed" is such a subjective term. I think "treated" is far more appropriate, don't you? Like one does to a rash, or an arrow in the face." Sheogorath pondered, but shook his head,: "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. So congratulations! You're free to go!"
Amalia sighed in relief.
"I... have been known to change my mind. So... go. Really."
Amalia froze up, then took a step back from the Mad God.
"Pelagius Septim the Third, once the Mad Emperor of Tamriel, now so boringly sane. I always knew he had it in him!" Sheogorath said, causing Amalia to furrow her brow.
"Wait...did you come here to-?"
"Well, I suppose it's back to the Shivering Isles. The trouble Haskill can get into while I'm gone simply boggles the mind…" Shegorath said, ignoring her, "Let's make sure I'm not forgetting anything. Clothes?" He looked down at his chest, "Check. Beard?" He rubbed his chin, "Check! Luggage? Luggage! Now where did I leave my luggage?" Looking around, Sheogorath snapped his fingers. Another orb of daedric energy, and there stood the Mer she had bumped into earlier today.
"Hey….you're…" Amalia began.
"Master! You've taken me back! Does this mean we're going home? Oh, happy times! I can't wait to..." He exclaimed joyfully.
Rubbing his head irritably, Sheogorath sighed.
"Yes, yes, that's quite enough celebration. Let's send you ahead, shall we?" Snapping his fingers, the Mer disappeared again.
Turning to Amalia, the prince of madness shrugged his shoulders, "And as for you, my little mortal Dragon minion... Feel free to keep the Wabbajack. As a symbol of my... Oh, just take the damn thing." Waving his hand, Sheogorath grinned, "You take care of yourself, now. And if you ever find yourself up in New Sheoth, do look me up. We can share a strawberry torte. Ta ta! Oh, and you're granddaddy says you're doing a great job."
Amalia blinked, "My granddad? What do you-"
"Mean?"
Stumbling forward, Amalia fell to the ground.
"My Thane?!"
Lydia? Oh right….The Blue Palace...searching for a body...
"Are you alright?!" Rushing to her side, Lydia grabbed the Dragonborn to rest on her knees, which were armored and therefore uncomfortable, but it was the thought that counts.
"I'm fine I'm fine…." Amalia said, rubbing her skull, "I think I have a headache…" Wincing, Amalia sat up, "Yep, definitely have a headache."
"My Thane, where did you get those clothes?" Lydia asked while fishing around in her nipsack for a healing potion.
"I think I met the Daedric Prince of Madness…" Amalia admitted, "Oh hey...still got this thing." In her hands was the Wabbajack, a strange staff of even stranger properties.
"My Thane, what happened to you?" Lydia asked, taking the silly hat off her head.
"Some strange adventure in a mad man's mind with a mad god." Amalia answered, feeling rather light headed at the moment.
Forcing herself upwards, Amalia tired to step forward but stumbled yet again. Luckily Lydia caught her.
"My Thane, don't try to move." Lydia cautioned, handing Amalia a healing potion who quickly gulped it down with a quick "Thanks."
"Ugh, Lydia, don't ever let me take any more hip bones. Okay?"
"Duly noted, my Thane."
Allo allo! Sorry for the long wait everyone. I've been busy with things like life...and Comic Con...and League of Legends...and RWBY. You know, things like that. Anyway, this mostly came out of popular demand from some people I regularly talk to. But, I hope you all like it! And if someone makes a T.V tropes page for this, you are the best person, ever. Seriously.
Anyway, enough talking to myself, thank you all for reading! I hope to update soon.
Truly Wandering, Outlaw.