I own nothing. Except possibly bioware and bethesda. Ah, daydreams.

For those of you that don't know, this covers the DLC where the hero becomes the new Daedric God of Madness in Oblivion, and goes into the newest top game on the RPG Market currently, Skyrim. Since nobody really bothered with going into the Hero of Skyrim's history before your execution date, and nobody really finds out what happens to Jyggalag's alter ego of madness when the Hero of Kvatch takes his place... I got creative. Not my best work, but prologues are rather annoying to write when switching from split personalities.

Hope you like it. If not, I'll come back in a few months and write something new again. -bows-

Daedric Gods: I'm so happy I could just tear out your intestines and strangle you with them!

Shouts/Actions: FIIK, LO, SAH! (Mirror, Deceive, Phantom!)

Translations: {You Can't Be Serious.}

"Really now, what the hell is he doing! I'm dying here! Well, not really, but this is exceedly DULL! Kill me already!" I proclaimed as only a slightly bemused 'god' of oblivion could, the spectacularly identity crisis driven entity... you guessed it! Daedric Prince Sheogorath.

Originally faring from the broken afterlife these mortals falsely accused as hell, (Really, the Isles are a beautiful place to visit!) my last planar dimension had been ripped apart by my slightly order obsessed alter ego. Mind, I don't really care for the bloke, but I'll be damned if I don't give up my own identity without a fight.

Leaning on a small cane as I watched with glee from the clouded thoughts of Jyggalag, it was a beautiful fight right before my palace that captivated my attention. Each expression flashing from bewilderment to surprise, my staff weilded in the Hero of Kvatch's hands only made me swell with pride. Good show, haha!

BAM! Off goes Jyggalag, and swinging right under that irritating bastard sword, my champion blasted the god (Or...is that me? Blasted dual personality pronouns!) right off 'my' rocker. And oh the inhumanity, what a mess of things it made! At least I'd be back in my... hold on, it was over. Done. Finished! Why the OBLIVION am I still here!

The hero's opponent leaned heavily on one knee, shock rippling through his crystalline gauntlets in disbelief. A crackling, sizzing noise emitted from my Staff of Sheogorath, and time stood frozen still. Only for me to realize I was left alone, run ragged inside my own mind while Jyggalag took over my body. It was his but... I... I am Sheo! Lord of the Isles! I'd go mad! Or worse... chillingly SANE!

"Oh thieves knickers, no please no...Anything but tha-!"

The crash of daedric armor plummeting at my face rudely interrupted yours truly like a crack of lightning, furious beady eyes escaping the darkness as the white armor of the Prince of Order broke into view, both egos facing off in the void overlooking Jyggalag's defeat. A wrasping voice, dark and ominous filled the room as every inch of the massive threat to Oblivion scored off against the one adversary he could never defeat.

"Shut. The. Hell. Up. Trying to think, and your special brand of insanity is as much a mental eyesore as having my body stolen for millenia by my brothers and sisters."

"Family reunion then? Hello, 'Jyg. Come for the party?"

I barely avoided the hilt of his bastard sword for that one. Ooh, the skid of steel crackled in the empty air like nails on a chalkboard- what delicious fun. Still, given the rather enfuriated cold hate staring me right between the eyes, perhaps a little subtility was best to keep to. Have to keep up my boyish figure, and frankly that demands not pissing off the current higher power unless absolutely neccessary.

"...You have nothing left now, you know. The cycle has been broken, and this body is mine. But how to get my revenge...?"

I put on my best pout, a sneaky wink riddling the corner of my eye. No, the opportunity to press this chaotic knife between the ribs was all too wonderful an opportunity to waste. What's the point of having just watched yourself get beat up by something you helped arrange? Talk about your self destructive impulses.

"Make it better? Colorful? Sexy as sin? Well, if you believe that, I have a lovely piece of tail called Ma'iq the Liar..."

Pain. Oh, my. You know, immortality very rarely leaves inconvenience for being backhanded into some sort of mental wall, but I'l pretty sure the cracked ribs are quite real. Wasn't his ribs the knife pierced, but god does this god myself have a sense of bleeding irony.

Throbbing, burning like a pint of dwarven mead, a spill of daedric quicksilver coughs up from my lungs. How very mortal. Eugh. As if commenting from some unseen angle, Jyggalag's voice rocks through my head. Or maybe I just really am crazy and have some really bad masochistic and sadistic personalities.

"Mortal? And why not? You stole my LIFE, you god damn madman. Every day some odd occurance, hideous creation, or insufferable act of random volition that could have been used for bigger things. Greater things! Far greater than you. If the inconvenience of losing my existence isn't enough, then I'll be damned if I don't steal yours. Mortal sounds like a lovely plane to leave you in. Goodbye, 'Sheo'. May you lead an interesting life."

I pause. Twitch. My mouth opens in some furious gesture as I grasp for straws desperately, but only silence greets me, followed by a soft humming. The humming grows louder as I try to talk, coming up with nothing. Chanting, syllables and consonants pounding my eardrums, shouting words I can't begin to understand. And then, a blue sky. Fresh wind, gentle breeze. Not so bad.

Ah, much better. The sounds are gone now, and I hear a beautiful whirring, speeding past my ear as I begin to open my eyes. White snow, fresh off the throat of the world. Beautiful scenery, flashi- Oh hell. No, no, no, no. Faster and faster, the screams of shouting and screaming air cold as ice fills my lungs, choking me in such a way I never felt. I honestly knew fear. Terror. Surely, Jyggalag remembered I was mortal before dropping me in some backwater place, right?

It was with these last thoughts, that I, Sheogorath, now simply 'Sheo', plummetted from the skies above the Throat of the World, and ventured into Skyrim. I am proud to say I did not lose myself until the last moments as I fell from such great heights. I did, however, scream like a little girl. And only then, blacked out.