Part 1 - Sheogorath and the Mysterious Stranger

Part 4 - The Voyage

DEIRDRE'S VIEWPOINT

Deirdre gazed up at the tall massive gates, the ancient College of Winterhold loomed tall into the heavens as the wind whipped and howled and snow fell from the grey skies.

The College was absolutely breathtaking, far more than Sheogorath's palace. It was absolutely awe-inspiring. Did this place truly hold the key to what they were looking?

Suddenly she heard a roar tear through the sky and screaming coming from within the courtyard

"DRAGON!" Someone screamed

A WHAT? Dragon? Dragons don't exist! What's going on??? Her mind raced, trying desperately to grasp thoughts, no time for thoughts!

She was knocked off her feet by a grand shaking of the ground. The world was spinning, she felt her body changing, lengthening. A Roar ripped through her lips, no, her MUZZLE, and as she swiped at the monstrous lizard, vicious claws, HER claws, cleaved scales. Flames blew through her fur as a howl escaped her throat.

The massive dragon took to the skies and swooped down, spells blasting against it's black hide, and it released a surge of flames from it's maw that struck an elf to her left, engulfing him in the blaze as he screamed while his flesh incinerated.

The dragon circled, and continued circling, and finally flew in the direction of Winterhold proper, probably to wreak havoc on the city where there was far less capable protection.

Deirdre watched it, her chest heaving, suddenly aware of the low rumbling coming up from her throat. Her vantage point was much higher than it should have been. She looked at her arms, and was shocked to find black fur covering long, powerful limbs, razor-sharp talons tipping, paw-like fingers. Looking down, massive clawed paws braced the ground.

She... was a ... WEREWOLF! Sheogorath... How did Sheogorath know??? How did SHE not know????

A crowd of people were gathered from the Dragon attack and they all stared at her. It was deathly silent.

"What?" She tried to protest. All that came out, however was a growl.

Deirdre dumped her pile of books on Daedric, artifacts, and Jyggalag specifically, then sprawled across her bed and picked one up. She ignored her roommate as she opened her book.

"Hey" The young dunmer woman said. "I'm Melvena, although you can call me Mel.

Deirdre flipped her gaze up at the interrupting woman. "Do you know anything about Daedric artifacts?"

"A little bit. My father studied up on them so I know probably more than the average person. Why? Are you researching about them?" Mel looked at her roommate quizzically.

"Only about a dagger that apparently was Jyggalag's. I'm trying to find out what it is an how to use it." She sighed.

"Jyggalag? There's not too much information on him." The dunmer pointed out "His name is very rarely mentioned. "I didn't know he had any artifacts."

I found a dagger but left it at home. It was a crystalline blue blade, colder than the coldest ice, it burns the skin when you touch it too long. The hilt is silver. It's creepy how flawlessly perfected each cut is." She was deep in thought remembering the artifact, which let her mind settle on Sheogorath, who she left the blade with. She kind of missed his eccentricities and madness.

"Where did you find it"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Deirdre sighed.

"Try me." A sly smile crossed Mel's face.

"Fine, my memory was wiped clean, complete amnesia. When I woke up, I was in the Shivering Isles, in Sheogorath's palace. I knew nothing, didn't know my name, The Prince of Madness is the one that gave the name Deirdre." She took a deep breath and continued "After I woke, I met him and after a few weeks he sent me on an errand to a small cave just discovered for the dagger. He didn't know what it was, but felt absolutely sure it was Jyggalag's."

"That IS a pretty tall tale, but I strangely believe you. Have you ever heard of Planewalkers. They are powerful mages that can travel to various planed in Oblivion, the "jump" can trap a traveler in a certain realm and when it happens, their memory is wiped completely clean. Maybe you were a Planeswalker and you got stuck in Sheogorath's realm! I knew a Nord in Morrowind who was a Planeswalker. He's name is Siggurd The Traveler. You may want to seek him out someday." She sounded so excited to meet someone who actually had traveled in Oblivion. "What's a Daedra really like?"

"Completely and utterly insane, sometimes a bit sketchy" She merely stated. "At least Sheogorath. You have no idea unless you actually meet him."

"Is he cute?" Mel said with false innocence

"MEL! Really???" Deirdre looked shocked, and the dunmer dropped it.

"You like him, don't you!" The Dunmer squealed with glee. "Does he know?"

Deirdre blushed. "Ok, fine. I do. I don't think he knows, well, I never said anything. I don't even begin to fathom his abilities"

"So tell him. Make a move".

"He's a DAEDRIC Prince... as you know, and as I said, I can't even begin to understand what powers he has access to". Deirdre sighed. "I'm just a mortal. Why and how could a Daedra love a mere mortal? Can he even feel love? Aren't we just toys and tools to the Daedric Lords?"

"Just don't miss an opportunity. Make a move. I would". Mel encouraged.

SHEOGORATH'S VIEWPOINT

Sheogorath was moody, no, downright pissy. He had everyone treading on thin ice with his aura of sinister gloom. It started a few days after Deirdre had left for the college.

Damn woman. Sheogorath didn't expect his thoughts to be on her so much after she left. It's not that he was worried she would fail the errand and disappoint him, no, he KNEW she would succeed. It's just that things weren't the same without her around. It was irritatingly simple the issue, or perhaps it was simply irritating. Or both, he scowled

He had had Haskill fetch his Wabbajack and a mud crab to entertain himself. Let's see how many different things he could turn the thing into. The crab wasn't too happy about being hostage in the Daedra's throne room. As it tried to scuttle away, Sheogorath gave a nod of the long slender staff in his hand. Poof! The mudcrab disappeared and was replaced by a Draugr Deathlord. It immediately looked at straight at its summoner.

"Fus-Ro-DAH!" A powerful boom, like a thunder clap resounded and shook the walls of the throne room, sending Sheogorath sailing through the air, over his throne. He slammed against a wall, as the armored dried out corpse chased after him. As the Daedra got to his knees, he said "You really shouldn't have done that"

The undead warrior's response was swinging it's ebony greatsword, leaving a long, deep gash in in Sheogorath's shoulder. "Enjoy the view" the Daedra growled, and a flash of green enveloped his assailant and it disappeared.

He flung the Wabbajack across the room and stormed back over to his throne, his wounds already reknitting themselves. He crossed his arms and scowled. No, things weren't going well at all.