In the dark heart of the Chateau of the Ravenous Rodent, Sheogorath reveals his most prized fool.

Uncle Leo, as the prince calls him, was once a mortal man whose greed led him into a seemingly perfect bargain with the Mad God.  But for all Sheogorath’s suppositious lunacy, there is no prince in all Oblivion that understands mortal frailties more.  He waited patiently, and eventually, just as Sheogorath expected, the mortal’s heart overruled his head, and on his happiest night, the Mad God melted his flesh and remoulded him into the abomination I see before me now.

Seemingly tired of his prize, in much the same way as a cruel child might drop a wild skeever into a box with a pet snake, I have been set against this malformed behemoth for the Mad God’s perverse entertainment.

S.K

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The main house of the Chateau of the Ravenous Rodent, is a macabre and disturbing building.  Its residents, who Sheogorath describes as his ‘family’, are clearly mind-shriven and deranged, attacking savagely without cause or logic.

These former playthings of Sheogorath, corrupted and driven into insanity, may once have been his devout followers, or, perhaps they were just everyday, rational, earnest people, whose misfortune it was to have crossed the Mad God’s path and become his sport.

Madness can be pardoned, but even in Gods, it is never an excuse for cruelty.

S.K

Dementia, a manifestation of Sheogorath’s dark disposition; bleak, baneful and scowling.  A realm of everlasting night, lit only by a fretful aurora.  Whispers of disquiet swim upon the chill air.

I have arrived at the guest quarters of the Chateau of the Ravenous Rodent, which the Mad God describes as his family estate.  The Chateau itself would not look out of place in Stonefalls or Deshaan, yet the giant mushrooms are more reminiscent of the paintings I’ve seen of the isle of Vvardenfell.

As for the sailing vessel stranded atop the high rock, who knows; yet the ever dutiful Haskill seems to have it all in hand from atop its stern.

S.K

At the Mages Guild in Sentinel, Valaste opens a portal to Dementia, the most minatory sphere of the Shivering Isles.  The mage seems to falter once the portal is created.

Whilst casting any portal to the realms of Oblivion is taxing, clearly translating the Mad God’s twisted essays is taking a toll on Valaste’s health; both mental and physical.  Thankfully there is but one more tome to retrieve, and then perhaps the Master of Incunabula may find some rest.

The Altmer have a saying, “Come Evening Star, and even Magnus retires early and sleeps late.”

S.K