Chapter 1: A Shrine to the Mad-God
It is nearly time. I have assembled everything the Book mentions to build the shrine. I wanted to make this one last journal entry before I finished the shrine however. It only seemed appropriate I write this entry before I make the shrine so that afterwards, no matter what happens, I have something to reference my life after the experience too. I fear I am blabbering on again. The final things must be added.
Rodore Gemain closed his journal, which he had kept ever since he started his new life in Skyrim. He only had a few entries, and while most were completely unnecessary, he felt on occasion that writing an entry was of unquestionable importance. It was a bit of a strange impulse.
The Shrine itself was of a simple design. The only major problem was that it required a four-by-five assembly of Ebony Bricks, which had to be made from about one and a half ebony Ingots which were a pain to find and pay for. Rodore spent nearly all of his money to acquire the necessary ingots. Thankfully, the rest of the things were rather easy to come buy. The only other remarkable thing about the small Shrine was that it specifically mentioned a cheese wedge be placed directly in the center. Illogical as it was, Rodore reminded himself at times he was trying to contact the Mad-God.
In order to activate the Shrine it had to be assembled perfectly and a fire spell had to be applied to each corner for five seconds, which meant the actual activation of the simple Shrine took only twenty seconds. Unfortunately, it was anyone's guess what would happen when this... thing... was complete. It was totally unpredictable exactly what powers the Mad-God would gain on the world of Nirn, whether it be power to Talk or to enslave all of Markarth. Rodore did not think too much into that however, he saw this as something that absolutely had to be done. It was something that must happen, like the consumption of food, in order for him to continue his existence. That was the extent to which Rodore had become hopelessly obsessed.
The shrine was now completed exactly to the Book's specifications. It was accomplished. He was filled with a sense of accomplishment though the task was by no means finished. He picked up the Flame Tome spell book he had purchased in Whiterun and, aiming his left hand at the upper left corner of the shrine, recited the words. Slowly at first, a power built in his left hand until a stream of fire hit the corner. Rodore steadied the stream. 1... 2... 3..... 4.... 5.... He stopped the flames. His hand burnt. However, the Shrine worked, or at least would appear so, as the top left Ebony Brick became a burning-purple color, completely different from its original state in appearance. Rodore applied the same technique to the bottom-left brick and after the five seconds, it turned the same color as did the bricks between the two-finished corners.
Rodore finished the rest of the corners and all the bricks were the burning-purple color, a strange power emanating forth from them. Slowly, oh so very slowly, the color began filling in the space in the middle of the bricks. As more and more of the small area gained color, the power felt stronger and stronger. As the space was filled with the purple-laden power, it became hard to stand for the very strength coming forth from the strange Shrine seemed to intensify the weight Rodore's legs must endure. It was both beautiful and terrifying, and both filled the depths of Rodore's soul at the moment.
Everything seemed to stabilize soon, and the situation was under control at the moment. Rodore finally gained the courage to speak, "Sheogorath, welcome to my home!"
It was to his surprise when a dark voice spoke back "I rather not be looking in this dump. Your living is quite unworthy Rodore."
Rodore was shocked. "How... how do you know my name?"
"Why Rodore... I know so much more about you than that. I know your a failure, I know you moved to Skyrim because you killed a guard. I know so much, Rodore. I also know you won't leave this experience the same man as when you came."
Growing terrified by the second, Rodore slowly realized that perhaps Daedra were feared for a good reason. "Care to explain, Sheogorath?"
"HAHA!!! I was hoping you would ask that Rodore! Actually I knew you would ask that! I know everything! You idiot! How I would LOVE to jump-rope with your internal workings, I'm afraid that's not good enough. No-no-no... someone like you must be punished."
The fear of being tortured forever in the endless planes of Oblivion crept into Rodore's mind. "Wh... what?"
"I'm afraid simply killing you would be too easy. I've actually been thinking about this for a while. Oh... how I've been looking forward to this day! You shall be the test-dummy for my latest punishment! I'm going to change you, Rodore. I'm going...", Sheogorath laughs very loudly, "I'm going to change all your senses to my liking. I will control everything you hear, see, and smell."
Before he could say anything, Rodore felt a dark energy enter into his mind. He could feel his vision beginning to lose sight of anything and the smell of thick pools of blood filled his nostrils. He became horrified beyond comprehension. "WHY ME!!!"
"Because Rodore, you have laughed at my previous punishments. Something more thorough had to be thought of just... for... you... Good-bye..." The Shrine seemed to destroy itself, leaving no remains. Reality as he knew it before he built the Shrine seemed to exist once more, but Rodore was losing his consciousness. His legs grew weak and his eyes grew heavy, his brain not seeming to work right. Before the final plunge into unconsciousness was taken, he felt a voice from inside his very own head whisper "You shall feel torture as you never thought possible..." and with that, Rodore fell on the floor, unconscious.