Sheogorath is -Not- Amused
Sheogorath is (Not) Amused
Haskill shook his head as he entered New Sheoth Palace. He was having one of those days. Once again, the people of both Mania and Dementia were requesting a new Duke or Dutchess, and once again Lord Sheogorath had denied them. Though technically it should be 'Lady Sheogorath' now. The Graymarch was over in a most permanent form, with Jyggalag freed from his curse. This had left a void in the Throne of the Madgod that was as easily filled as it was emptied. The new Sheogorath, the first and only true Sheogorath in fact, was formally the mortal known as the Champion of Cyrodil. Within a single night that had changed. Sheogorath was to the surprise of many, including Haskill a female who looked to be a perfect cross between the Aureal and the Mazken. Her golden skin had a bluish blush, and her midnight blue hair had streaks of gold in it.
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The sun was drawing closer to the horizon, sending a mist over the small group and casting a chill down their spines.
"We should not be here," peeped Merrill from under her hood.
Hawke looked down at her, silently agreeing. Varric walked just ahead with Bianca before him. They had stumbled upon the ancient ruins as they explored Sundermount. Hawke had become intrigued because he had never seen something so ancient as the stone walls that now surrounded them. There were symbols etched into the walls that Merrill didn't recognise, and the chance to explore had overpowered him.
He was curious by nature, but now he wished he had gone and come back. They had wondered way too far into the ruins and now the light above the broken ceiling was breaking, which would mean if they couldn't find their way out then they would have to camp there. But the twilight was brining an unnerving feeling over the three of them, and Hawke was starting to curse his curiosity.
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In the earliest of days, in a time when the world was still raw, Sheogorath decided to walk amongst the mortals. He donned his guise of Gentleman With a Cane, and moved from place to place without being recognized. After eleven days and eleven nights, Sheogorath decided that life among mortals was even more boring than his otherworldly existence.
"What can I do to make their lives more interesting?" he said to himself. At that same moment, a young woman nearby commented wistfully to herself, "The sounds of the birds are so beautiful."
Sheogorath silently agreed with her. Mortals could not make the beautiful and inspired calls of birds. Their voices were wretched and mundane. He could not change the nature of mortals, for that was the purview of other Daedric Princes. However, he could give them tools to make beautiful sounds.
Sheogorath took hold of the petulant woman and ripped her asunder. From her tendons he made lutes. From her skull and arm bones he made a
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Meyz Meyz Dovahkiin
Fin Saviik do Keizaal vahriin
Tol Kel prodah diivon naal kein
Aal Kul do Talos spaan fundein
Dovahkiin fent meyz wah lot Keizaal
Meyz faasnu Ysmir rein
Voth ahkrin Alduin vukein
Hokoron do Faal Lein ahrk Jul
Qahnaar fin Dovah do Vokul
Meyz fin krilot Vahlok do Thu'um
Wen tuz fent Drem ahrk Aaz drun
Aal hin zin ni kos vodahmin
Ahrk nol Dinok suleyk kos stin.