A Madman's Order

Chapter 1

Chaos for the Orderly

Tonight's chart was odd, to say the least. As my fingers thumbed through the list of patients in the Appleton Medical Center's Mental Ward, I had to furrow my thin brow. Not many patients today, unlike yesterday. Did we have a large discharge during the morning and afternoon? I thought I would have heard of such a thing.

"Doctor Roberts."

I flicked my eyes up to the nurses' station, meeting the gaze of Mary, one of the night nurses. She was a no-nonsense, no bullshit, I do my job and I do it well, kind of nurse. She could be crass; she could be brash; she could be a bit blunt; but, I liked having her on my shift. It meant none of the patients would get too rowdy. Most of the truly nuts ones were scared of her and listened to her without question. Not because she was terrible to them, but because she carried herself as someone not to be messed with.

Very unlike me. A lot of the patients, particularly the teenagers who weren't much younger than me, liked to give me plenty of issues. I once had actual human feces chucked at my head. It missed, but that was an experience I could not forget.

"Hm?" I finally responded as I set the clipboard down on the counter and waited for Mary's reply.

Mary's lips thinned. "Should be a quiet night." She leaned back in her seat, the chair groaning beneath her weight. "Just got a couple of loons now."

I shook my head, but couldn't help but crack a small smile. "They aren't loons, Mary. They are patients that need help and rehabilitation."

"You say that now sweetheart," She replied, a wry smirk on her lips. "But you can only be young and naïve for a little while ma'am, especially while you're still in residency. Do you know how many med school grads I've seen come through here?"

"A lot," I answered, brushing some of my blonde hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear.

"A helluva lot." She nodded with plenty of sass. "They all thought they could be a shining light of sanity for some of these folks." She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Sometimes you just gotta dope them up and call it a night. Give yourself a little peace, or you'll go as mad as some of the residents here."

I raised the clipboard and pointed it at her. "Maybe I'll understand them better then."

"Mhmm, and I'll make sure to change the pot you piss in when it happens."

I uttered a laugh as I walked away from the nurses' station, ready to conduct my rounds. "Have a good night, Mary."

"I'll see ya in an hour, Miss Anastasia."

I had to shake my head as I walked away. Mary, what a character. If anyone else acted that way, I would have dismissed their words without a thought. But, Mary wasn't wrong. She's been here a long time. Long enough to have her picture on the wall beside the chief psychiatrist; the fourth she's worked with in her long tenure at St. George's. She was old enough to be my mother.

I tilted my head as I approached the first room on my rounds. I wonder if she has kids.

I shrugged my bony shoulders then glanced down at my chart. One eyebrow rose as I glanced at the name for the first room on the list.

"I'm not even going to begin to try and pronounce that." It started with an 'S', and that was all I could make of it. Was this even a real name? Almost looked Scottish? Gaelic? I don't know, but I haven't seen a name like that even in med school, and there are some ridiculous names in those textbooks.

Not like it mattered. According to the chart, the patient was undergoing a particularly strong case of delusions and mania. He probably didn't even know who he was. So I doubt this was even his real name.

"Sheo- Shea-" I shook my head. "We'll ask him for something else. Should have been on meds long enough to sharpen him up a little bit."

I gave the door a small knock then waited, expecting to hear some snorting and snoring. Most of the patients on the night shift were sound asleep by the time I came in. I preferred it that way. My job, as the newest psychiatrist in the ward, was to monitor them at night with Mary and a couple of other doctors. Make sure no one got hurt, and that everything stayed in order. Simple enough, if a bit tiring, but I enjoyed it.

I definitely did not expect a loud laugh followed by one of the thickest accents I've ever heard bark at me from the other side of the white door.

"Well don't be shy! Knock once, knock twice, knock thrice for all I care. Knick knock on the door. Just don't be a stranger."

I arched an eyebrow and looked at my chart again. "Uh, are you decent Mr. She- Sho- Uh-"

"It's rather rude to do introductions without seeing each other face to face, no?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying to make sure I don't walk in on you naked, sir. Already had that happen one too many times." I finished with a mutter.

The man on the other side howled with laughter. "Well, if that's proper custom for this world then let me get right to stripping."

"No!" I exclaimed on instinct.

"Ha! Didn't think so. That sounds more like something from where I'm from. They don't call it the Shivering Isles for nothing, eh!?" And more laughter followed. Laughter that abruptly stopped seconds later. "Well? I'm waiting, missy!"

I sighed. It was going to be one of those nights. I straightened my back, did my best to project Mary's confidence and authority, then strode into the room.

It was dark inside, and the shades were drawn. Already, not a good sign. Thankfully, the dim lights from the hall were able to illuminate a little bit of the cramped room, allowing me to see the silhouette of the patient's bed, as well as him sitting upright on it. From what I could tell, even while sitting, he was tall and lanky. But, what I noticed the most right away were his eyes, sharp, blue, and piercing. Almost like he was looking right into my soul.

"Oh hoh!" The patient declared, his hands shooting up with glee. "It's not that Mary girl, but a different lass instead. Wonderful. While I love being served by stern ladies, there is a limit to the amount of bossing I can take. Preferably none. I like doing the bossing personally."

"Right," I drawled, reaching for the light switch and flicking it on.

As soon as I hit the switch, the patient jumped in his bed. "Good golly molly gobsmacking goblins!" He craned his head and looked up at the room's bright, white light. "That's one hell of a magelight. Think you could turn it up? It's quite pretty."

Magelight? That's a new term for me. I glanced at the previous notes on the patient and furrowed my brow.

"So… mania and delusions?"

"Only the boldest and best!" The man folded his skinny arms, the medical gown he wore wrinkling around his shoulders as he moved. "Why? Think I should be madder? I can do that, y'know."

I glanced up from the chart and studied the patient again. For someone suffering from such a severe case of… well, nuts, he seemed quite lucid. He wasn't babbling incoherently. He also wasn't drooling as he lay on his bed. I've seen both, and I would've expected either. To be honest, I wasn't used to having a full-length conversation with someone diagnosed with such severe ailments. Did they cover this in school?

"Ya look a bit perturbed, lass." The man gave me a wide grin that was both friendly and unnerving at the same time. He ran a hand through his graying hair, sweeping it back over his head. The stubble lining his chin was the same graying color. Although, I couldn't tell if it was natural or not. He didn't look that old. "Is it the beard? Or the lack of one? I used to wear a goatee, y'know. Stole it off a billy goat and slapped it right on my chin. That's why there are some beardless goats running around the world anymore."

I blinked. "What?"

His grin evaporated and his amiable demeanor shifted to one of disappointment. "Oh, what is with you mortals and your lack of understanding? Normally, I enjoy a good bit of confusion, but honestly, you can't keep up. Especially in this realm of Oblivion. You all have gone quite overboard with the level of control. It's almost maddening."

Oblivion? What in the world was this guy talking about? Did he call me a mortal? Did he believe he was immortal? A god? I had to suppress a snort. This would be a patient I'd remember for a long time. Probably one I'd eventually write a paper on too if I could cure him of whatever ailed his poor mind.

"So, Mr… I'm not even going to try to say it."

"Oh? And why not?"

"It's hard to pronounce."

"And your name isn't Missus Roberts?" He asked, deliberately mispronouncing my last name. He almost made it sound French.

I shook my head, some amusement filling me. The guy didn't seem like trouble. Just a bit addled. If anything, he'll make my shift entertaining for tonight.

"I'm not a missus."

"Oh hoh! Even better. A bachelorette servicing a bachelor. They write plenty raunchy tales about this sort of thing."

"Keep it in your pants, sir," I advised as I pulled a chair towards the bed and sat down, placing the clipboard in my lap. I grabbed a pen from my lapel and tapped the end. "So, is there a nickname I can call you?"

"A nickname? I haven't thought of that one before. Oh, what fun! Perhaps you could call me Pelagius? No, no! No! Too simple. Too many of those where I'm from. Not enough Phil's though. Yes!" He clapped his hands. "That it! You can call me Phil!"

That was likely his real name. Some part of his sane mind was still in there. Good. It meant the mania didn't take over all the time. Maybe the real Phil could be drawn out.

"Nice to meet you, Phil. I'm Dr. Anastasia Roberts. I'm one of the psychiatrists during the night shift."

"Now there's a tough term to tie the tongue. Psychiatrists eh? Don't suppose that has to do with the psyche?"

I straightened in my chair. "Well yes. That's exactly what it means, essentially."

"So all you mortals in white coats know stuff about the mind?"

I smiled and tapped my white coat, still proud that I finally earned one. "Well, not all. Just those who studied what I studied."

"Oh, so you are unique. And interesting too. And, even better, you know brain stuff." The man nodded and smiled at me. A charming smile. But, for some reason, an enormous sensation of danger hit me. It made my spine crawl and a chill rush through my blood.

"You're perfect." He said, voice low.

I do not know what happened next. All I know is that the patient laughed, then all went black.

"And so there I was Pelagius, sitting in a bed. Not just any bed though, but a soft bed. The softest bed I've ever felt. And that includes your mother's bed."

"I don't want to know that, my lord."

"Ha! Course you don't. You don't want to know that other people had fantasies about that mad bitch too. Haha!"

I blinked once. My vision cleared. A long table sat in front of me, full of food. Platters laden with fruits and vegetables covered the space. Meat and potatoes steamed on plates as if they had just been pulled out of an oven. Goblets full of wine sat at multiple places on the table. But, only two other seats were occupied.

Beside me sat a man wearing fine, hand-stitched clothes. Very medieval looking. His dark hair was tied back in a tight ponytail while his gaunt figure sat hunched at the table. His sunken eyes flicked to me a moment, barely registering my existence, before turning to the other person sharing our table.

Phil sat on a stone throne on the other side of me. The only seat on the other side of the table. A large plate sat in front of him, with only what looked like a cooked elephant trunk on it. Even more surprising, he wasn't wearing a gown.

He wore a suit, if I could call it that. To say it looked garish would have been an understatement. Orange and purple clashed, with each color taking up half the jacket. The fabric had large eyes as a dominating pattern, giving off a disturbing vibe that made me shiver in my seat. Several rings sat on his finger. At his hip was a sword. A very real-looking sword.

And this is a very real-looking table.

"What in the hell is-"

"Hell? What is hell? Is it fun?" Phil asked. "Oh, you're awake, doctor. Wonderful! This is most fortuitous. You woke in time to meet my good friend Pelagius. Pelagius, say hello to the woman here to help you."

"I'm not interested in bedding a whore right now."

I whipped my gaze to the man beside me. "Excuse me!?"

Phil threw his head back and howled. "Oh, that old dry humor. Pelagius, you slay me. Why, I don't know how people do not worship statues of you in Tamriel. The things you did. The slaughter you made. All with that dry, dry wit and mad laughter. Glorious! Second in glory to that Martin fellow though. I was there for that one and, I can safely say, ya don't measure up to his madness."

I whipped my gaze back and forth between the two men sharing a table with me. That's when it finally registered that I was sitting at a table in the middle of what looked like a forest glade rather than standing in the Appleton Medical Center. With a gasp, I shot to my feet, panic rushing through my veins.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I spread my hands out. "Where is- but we were- the hospital is-" My jaw hung open. "Huh?"

Phil cleared his throat. "I must say, that's a better reaction than most I bring here. Clearly, you do know things of the mind." He clapped his hands and gave the other man, Pelagius, a dismissive wave. "Off you go, my friend. I have business to conduct."

My brain reeled when a blue light engulfed the man sitting beside me. In a flash, he was gone, leaving nothing but an empty chair and a half-eaten chicken leg as evidence he had been there. I gawked at the empty chair, unsure of what to do. Only a dumb croak managed to come from my lips as I stood still as a statue.

"Oh yes, you're doing wonderful, Miss Anastasia. Pelagius didn't chase you off right away. Much better than the others."

"Others?" I whipped my gaze back to the madman sitting across from me. Fear swelled within me as I looked around. Was I dreaming? Was this a nightmare? Where was I? Where was the hospital? Why do my legs feel weak?

"Oh wait, there is the fear and disorientation." Phil clicked his tongue. "Should've seen that coming. But, no matter. It'll go away in… well, I don't exactly know when. It hasn't gone away for me in over two hundred years, give or take. And it certainly hasn't gone away for poor Pelagius the Mad. In fact, that's precisely why I've brought you here."

"Brought me where?" I asked, my voice shaking. "This… this can't be real."

"Oh, but it is real. Well, real in the most figurative way you can describe reality. Then again, is reality really real? Or is it merely a projection of what our insane minds think is real? Quite the philosophical conundrum. One we cannot debate today. For today, we cure Pelagius so that he can stop doing something I detest in my home."

I stared at Phil, dumbfounded. "This is your home?"

"No, no, don't be daft." He remarked with a dismissive wave of his hand. "This is Pelagius's mind. That's right! You're inside the mind of a long-dead, insane, Emperor of Tamriel. Congratulations!"

My eye twitched. "You're making zero sense."

Phil frowned at me. "You still don't seem to understand that is my entire schtick, sweetcheeks."

"Don't call me that."

"Sugarlips then?"

"Especially not that!" I exclaimed.

"Well, I certainly can't call you fish sticks since that is something else entirely." Phil huffed. "Fine, I'll put it in plain common speak for you. How boring. Pelagius won't stop being dull. You're going to fix that. There are three gates around this clearing. You must go through each one and deal with whatever is ailing Pelagius's mind within."

I stared at Phil, if his name even was Phil, unsure of what to do or say. Then, I noticed the fog at the edges of the clearing rollback. Three arches made of stone manifested in the mist all around the clearing, each one leading to a dirt trail that ran away from the table. A deep sense of foreboding filled me as I eyed each gate, my feet refusing to move as my mind continued to reel.

"This isn't real," I mumbled.

"Oh by my left foot! It is real!" Phil cried. "Tell you what, I'll give you some incentive. You do this task for me, and I'll tell you my real name. That way, you know how to pronounce it. I'll even give you Wabbajack to help."

"Wabba-what?"

My hand curled around something hard and made of wood. I froze, blinked, then looked down at my right hand. My fingers clenched the shaft of a black, wooden staff, with the most disturbing head I had ever seen. It was a four-sided head, with a screaming maw carved into it. I couldn't tell if the screaming face was meant to be sad, angry, happy, or desperate? Perhaps it was meant to convey all four? Regardless, I didn't want this staff.

"I'd advise against dropping Wabbajack, since not only do you need it, but dropping it may cause a long list of bad things to happen."

I gritted my teeth as my patience wore thin. "I still haven't gotten any answers, Phil!"

"And you'll get answers when you fix Pelagius," Phil remarked, leaning forward in his seat and giving me that charming smile I liked when I first met him. "Now, I suggest you get going. The mad only get madder the longer we dawdle."

An invisible force grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me towards the first gate. Then it shoved me between the shoulder blades. A pathetic yelp jumped from my lips as I stumbled forward. When I managed to catch my balance, I glared back, ready to snap at Phil, only to see the table was gone. Only the three gates remained. Everything else was shrouded in mist.

What kind of insane trick is this? My other hand wrapped around the shaft of the Wabbajack. I swallowed hard. Was this a trick? Everything, from the ground beneath my white shoes to the wood rubbing against my sweating palms felt real.

My throat tightened. Was Phil the Devil?

"Only one way to find out," I muttered, swallowing the lump in my throat and moving to the first gate.

Once through, the mist rushed away, showing me a lovely trail with plenty of foliage and flowers growing along it. I took a few more steps forward, and Phil's voice rang through my mind, making me jump.

"Welcome to the voraciously verdant mind of Pelagius the Mad; Emperor of Tamriel, tyrant of tyrants, mass-murderer and stealer of joy through the entire Empire." A wistful sigh left Phil's disembodied voice. "It's enough to make me swoon. But, he cannot stay that way forever. Some things are amiss in this skull. Time to fix it, shall we? And this is a good place to start. Well good for me. I find everyone being out to get you so terribly entertaining. Pelagius… less so."

My feet crunched against leaves as I moved further down the trail. Not far ahead of me, a stone structure formed. It almost looked like a small arena. A short flight of stairs led up to a small platform. Once I scaled the steps, I found myself looking down into a fighting ring. Inside the ring, the most impossible pair of things battled: A sentient block of ice and a woman made of fire.

"You see," Phil continued, "Pelagius's mother was… well… let's just say she was unique. Although 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 make people afraid? I never get that part right. 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."

I looked across the arena and saw three stone thrones. A large figure wearing bronze armor and a helmet with a grimacing face mask sat at the lead throne. Two other figures wearing similar armor flanked him on the other two thrones. The lead figure twitched in his seat, cautiously eyeing the other two. He was suspicious. Paranoid.

But, what exactly am I supposed to do here? What does Phil want?

"The objective here is simple, simpleton!" Phil barked, nearly causing me to fumble Wabbajack. I managed to catch it before I dropped the staff. After everything I had seen so far, I didn't feel like testing whether Phil's claim of bad things happening should it fall was true. "Use Wabbajack to defeat the true enemy!"

I drew in a shaky breath. Defeat the true enemy? What!?

My gaze drifted to the two entities fighting in the center of the arena. Titanic blasts of frosty and fiery energy ricocheted off of them as they dueled. But, neither gained the upper hand. Did Phil want me to give one of them the advantage using Wabbajack?

Wait… no. Think Anastasia. Think. Phil said this was Pelagius's mind. The story Phil told might mean the guy has paranoia. He's terrified of everyone around him. He thinks everyone is out to get him.

My gaze rose to the two armored figures flanking the emperor. Their hands sat near daggers on their hips. The Emperor was weaponless.

Use Wabbajack to defeat the true enemy…

I pointed the end of the staff at the armored man on the right. With an exhale, a faint light glowed at the end of Wabbajack. The glow shot from the staff, rushing towards the man. As soon as it touched the man, both armored figures flanking the emperor turned into wolves and attacked him. But, they could not harm him. They couldn't get through his armor.

"Haha! Wonderful! You figured it out, and fast too. I knew you could do it. Yes, I did. You successfully gave Pelagius the delusion that he is safe. You helped him, sort of. Now all Pelagius has to worry about are the hundreds of legitimate threats."

My eyes widened. "I'm sorry, what?"

Blue light wrapped around me. In a flash, I was in another clearing. This time, I saw a bed in the center of a beautiful glade. Pelagius slept on the bed. But, he didn't look like the hunched, gaunt figure I met earlier. He looked hearty and healthy. His skin was rosy, not pale and sickly. He slumbered well, his breathing even. Then, his face contorted, and he turned over, soft mumbles tumbling from his lips.

"Ah yes, this one. I decided to skip the path, as it was boring to me to watch you tepidly move along some dirt. This, here, is the path of dreams. Unfortunately, Pelagius suffered night terrors from a young age."

Pelagius groaned, uttered a sharp cry in his sleep, then tossed over where he lay again. I swallowed hard as I watched. Night terrors were terrible things. It took a good deal of work to get through them. They were typically attached to some sort of trauma. Some sort of devastating memory in the mind that plagued the patient. Therapy was the best course of action. But, I had a feeling Phil did not have therapy in mind for Pelagius.

"All you need to do is find some way to wake poor Pelagius up."

Wake him up? That seemed simple enough. I glanced at Wabbajack again. Would this do it?

I pointed the staff at Pelagius and the glow that emanated from the end of the staff rushed to him. When it touched the sleeping emperor, nothing happened. Then, I heard a howl, a hiss, a hoarse growl, and a demonic shriek. All three came from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder. Fear shot through my heart. Behind me, I saw a wolf, its muzzle red and wet with blood. Beside the wolf was a woman made of fire, flaming eyes glaring past me at Pelagius. Next to the woman was a figure that was what I could only describe as a grotesque woman crossed with a crow. Its beady, black eyes stared at Pelagius with hatred and hunger. Finally, next to her, floated a corpse, hollow eyes and bony limbs stretched wide as its tattered robes fluttered in a non-existent wind. That one terrified me the most.

All four rushed at me at once. I screamed.

On instinct, I swung Wabbajack. A mighty wave of pale light shot from the staff, slamming into all four monsters at once. All four uttered a cry of pain. I didn't see what happened next. I had my eyes screwed shut as I waited for fangs to tear into me, flames to lick at my flesh, claws to tear into my muscles, and whatever the corpse used to kill me.

When nothing happened, I held my breath. Then I dared to open one eye. The monsters were gone. In their place was a hapless goat, lying down as it munched on a wad of grass; a young boy; a roaring campfire; a maiden in a skimpy toga; and a large treasure chest.

A loud yawn came from behind me. I spun around. Pelagius woke up.

The boy and woman cheered. And Phil cheered as well.

"Wonderful!" Phil cried as blue light claimed me again. "Truly splendid. No more barking at all hours, and chewing up my slippers. You used the hemlock, then? Damned good idea! I... Um... We're not talking about Barbas, are we? Clavicus Vile's... dog? Oooh... awkward. Oh! That's right! Pelagius! Yes, yes, now I recall. Well done, well done. Now keep going."

I stumbled out of the blue light and into a new grove. In this grove, I saw the strangest thing yet.

A man, only rising to my shins, fought against another man who was a giant. The little man was Pelagius himself, standing there, taking a beating from the armored giant without so much as raising his hands to defend himself.

"This has to be a metaphor," I muttered.

"Astute observation, Doctor. It is indeed an analogy of Pelagius's own creation. You see, the poor man thinks he's small. It's quite sad really. He hated and feared many many things. But, as I'm sure you can see-"

"He hated and feared himself the most." My eyes widened in understanding. "He's attacking himself. Self-loathing."

"A potent poison of the mind indeed, wouldn't you agree? The self-loathing enhances his anger, but his confidence gets smaller with every hit. They need to be brought to balance."

"Made into the same size, quite literally." I gripped the Wabbajack. This was the last gate. My last barrier between me and my answers, and my way back home from whatever crazy place this was. "Very well then."

I marched towards the armored giant, swung Wabbacjack back with all my might, then hammered it against the giant's backside.

The armored giant grunted, turned, and glared hatefully at me. Then, with one might swing of his arm, he swatted me to the side. A scream erupted from my lips as I soared through the air. I only stopped flying when I collided with a tree trunk.

Harsh coughs sputtered from my lungs. My entire body felt numb and the entire world spun. I gasped for breath, feeling some blood crawl up my throat and spill from my lips. Pain shot through my entire body as I stirred a little on the ground, at the base of the tree I hit.

"Those would be broken ribs, and most certainly a bruised ego." Phil cackled at my expense as I lay on the ground, in pain. "Hate to tell you this sweetcheeks, but Wabbajack doesn't work like that. You can't just beat people with it. Although, it is entertaining to watch you try."

"Screw... you," I croaked, managing to pick myself up to my feet. I swayed where I stood. Somehow, the pain was dulled and disappearing. Was I healing automatically? Doesn't matter. I can't hit the giant with the big stick. I need to point Wabbajack at him and do what I did at the other two trials.

My aim was shaky, but I managed to focus my blurry vision on the giant long enough to fire a blast of energy. The blast hit the giant, shrinking him. At the same time, Pelagius's little figure grew, equaling the giant in height. Now, Pelagius fought the giant, and they were evenly matched.

"That was… a lot of power you put into Wabbajack," Phil said, some surprise in his voice. "Quite a lot indeed. Hmmm…" He was quiet for a moment, then I heard his lips smack together. "Well, that is done. Why waste all that hatred on yourself when you can easily dispense it on others?"

"Why indeed?" I breathed, dropping to my knees.

Blue light engulfed me again. In a flash, I was in my spot at the table, barely able to sit upright. Phil sat across from me, piercing gaze eyeing me up and down. His legs were crossed, as were his arms. His sharp brow was furrowed as he hummed, watching me sway in my seat. I snorted, finally done with all of this.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"Yes, you are." He held a hand out across the table. "Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness."

I eyed his hand, one eyebrow cocked. With a shake of my head, I took his hand. "Anastasia Roberts, barely a doctor."

Sheogorath smirked. "I'd say you more than earned your role with what you just did, Anastasia. In fact, you proved yourself more than you even know." He smiled at me. For a split second, I thought it was a kind smile. Then, I saw an insane sparkle in his icy, blue eyes. A pit formed in my gut. "You're perfect!"

"W-wait the last time you said that I-"

A desperate cry erupted from my lips as light engulfed me again. Darkness then enveloped me, shrouding every sense. I felt nothing. Heard nothing. Smelled and saw nothing. The world was a void.

Then, I woke up in a field. A fading aurora dissipated as bright, yellow sun rays took over a dawn sky. Stars winked out of existence every second. Wabbjack's cold, smooth wooden shaft rested in my grasp. Stooped over me with the most curious expression an animal could have was a beardless goat. Phil's voice echoed in my head once more.

"Welcome to Tamriel, Doctor Anastasia Roberts."

Welcome everyone, to a new, harebrained idea of mine. I have been wanting to do something Skyrim related for a long, long time, but I haven't worked up the nerve or time to do it. Well, I finally got off my butt and did it. And here we go, our poor OC is part of the Mad-God's shenanigans. Oh, this is going to be so much fun. No idea where this is going yet, but I'm looking forward to finding out!

Anyways, let me know what you all think of this chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed it! Have a nice day!

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