A Series of Daedric Events (a Skyrim fanfiction)

Chapter Twelve - The Only Cure

After what feels like forever, I finally reach the Shrine of Peryite. When I finally reach it, there is a Khajiit there mulling around. I clear my throat and he looks over at me with an unreadable expression on his face. 

"Ah, a wanderer yes? No? Pilgrim, perhaps? You have come to commune with Peryite, the Taskmaster and blighted Lord, yes?" the Khajiit smirks at me. 

I stare at him suspiciously. "I'm just here for Peryite,"

"The pus in the wound," Kesh has an adoring look in his eyes. "Oh, proper ones curl their noses, but it's pus that drinks foul humours and restores the blood. I worship Peryite because sometimes the world can only be cleansed by disease,"

"Right..." I trail off. "I need to speak to him, so if you could point me in the right direction then that would be fantastic,"

Kesh grins at me, showing all his sharp teeth. "Not everyone has the stomach required to entreat my Lord. But Kesh likes you, friend. There is a way Peryite may speak to us who will take Him in. If you wish to commune with Him, we'll need the incense,"

"Incense?" I ask suspiciosuly. 

"Yes," Kesh walks over to his cauldron, where something is brewing. It's foul-looking and looks like something I'd regret getting involved in. If only Clavicus hadn't disappeared right around me getting to the Shrine. It would be very useful to have some kind of guidance right about now. 

I shake that thought away. I can handle this totally fine by myself. 

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask Kesh. 

"Inhale deeply," Kesh gestures to the mixture. 

I do as he says, feeling nervous. I've never done anything like this before, taking substances that could alter my vision and perception...well, unless you count drinking mead and wine. Skooma and other drugs, like Sleeping Tree Sap, I have stayed well away from. 

The world around me alters. Everything become brighter, but fuzzier. Despite that, I feel everything much more strongly. The sun feels hotter on my skin, the smell of the flowers sweeter and the birdsong chirpier. 

Spectral skeevers appear in front of me. One of the skeevers speaks in a nasally, horrifying voice, which I assume to be the voice of Peryite.

"Breath deep, mortal," Peryite sneers. "I would have you hear me well, so let these vapors fill your lungs,"

"Have I been poisoned?" I ask doubtfully. 

"In a sense, but no more poisoned than a fool after too much wine," Peryite says in a disregardful tone.

I may as well get this over with. Actually speaking to the Daedric Princes is probably my least favourite part of my job. Especially when they have the nasally tone. 

"What do you want with me?"

"I have watched you for some time, you know," Peryite says thoughtfully. "The decisions you've made intrigue me and I wonder if you are a proper agent for a task of mine,"

Watching me. So he saw me behead Mehrunes Dagon's follower, lie to my family, befriend (sort of) Clavicus Vile, murder Erandur and abandon Marcurio in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. I'm turning into a monster. 

"What task?"

"I sent a blessing to Mundus...a wasting pague that infected a scattering of Breton villages. One of my monks, the elf Orchendor, was sent to gather these Afflicted. He shepherded them into Bthardamz for me, but has since lost his way. I will not stand for this betrayal," Peryite sounds angry. "I want you to go to Bthardamz and kill Orchendor, in my name,"