McBadgere: Thanks very much! I had a good amount of fun working out the details of how Audiomancy would work, and I pleased that you enjoyed reading it. Cheers!
DE: Oh no, it wasn't dead, it was just very slow and difficult to write. Like this chapter was. Huh.
I figured the weather would be affected by Sheogorath's moods and whims seeing as the Isles themselves are him to an extent. It raises some interesting worldbuilding questions at points.
And yeah, there are Madgod missionaries; that was only mentioned about five chapters ago!
Chapter 24-The Grand Inquisitor
The building before them could be called no other word but monstrous. A huge, brooding tyrant of a structure hewed from grey-black stone, it loomed before the three, façade adorned with gargoyles and freizes of misery. The black iron gates, adorned with carvings of ancient runes the very meaning of which could not be pronounced, were surrounded by regular spikes of jagged stone, and in opening seemed to be the invitation from a hungry maw for vulnerable morsels to step inside.
A pair of Dark Seducers stood on either side of the doorway, wearing the black hoods of executioners and carrying immense two handed axes, and as they approached one of them asked; “What business have you at the court of Lady Syl?”
“We were sent here by Sheogorath,” Carnius said. “He wanted me and my friends to speak to her, to introduce ourselves to her.”
“I see,” one of the Daedra said. “Wait here, Madgod’s champion. I will bring word to the Duchess that you are here.”
She stepped through the doorway, and was gone only a few minutes before she returned once more.
“She will see you and your companions immediately,” she said. “Follow me.”
The room she lead them into was a high-vaulted hall, built of the same sooty black stone as the building’s exterior. It was a gloomy, funereal place, lit only by guttering candles of black tallow, while snarling maws and weeping faces protruded from the walls and vaulted ceiling, shifting across it in utter silence, following Carnius, Salyan, Almeria and their guide as they progressed. In alcoves on either side of the hall were crosses, men, mer and beast-folk nailed to the wood, naked and thin, skin criss-crossed by lacerations, eyeless sockets glancing across the room. Carnius and Salyan avoided looking at them, but Almeria was merely indifferent, instead clenching and unclenching her fists with such force that her knuckles turned white.
At the far end of the hall, on a throne of tarnished brass, moulded into the shape of gnashing teeth and grasping hands, a Bosmer woman sat, flanked by two more axe-bearing Mazken in hoods. Her face was veiled and she wore a black mourning dress, its collar an immense, magnificent ruff of carven bone. She examined the small group before with piercing, intense grey eyes, leaning forward on her throne as they approached.
“I bid you welcome, champion of Sheogorath,” she said, her tone devoid of any warmth. “As is custom, I extend the hospitality of the court of Dementia to yourself and your companions whilst you are here.”
“You honour us, your ladyship,” Salyan said before Carnius could speak, stepping forward and bowing down on one knee. “You have our deepest gratitude.”
“Get up and be silent, little Manic girl,” Syl snapped back. “I will entertain you and the Feaster only because the Madgod’s champion is with you; otherwise your presence within my court would not be tolerated. As for you, Carnius Hackelt, I will allow you this one erring in etiquette. But let me be clear that displeasing me will not bode well for you, Sheogorath’s champion or not.”
She gestured to one of the crucified individuals lining her hall.
“And that is the consequence of displeasing me or moving against me,” she said. “These crosses were enchanted by Relmyna Venerim herself and the magic within them can keep a man alive in agony for weeks; their bodies begin to degrade but they do not die, and sooner or later, the wood will absorb its victims and be hungry for more. I always have more crucifixes upon which to hang those who attempt to double-cross me.”
Hearing her, one of the victims raised his head.
“Please, my lady,” he managed to rasp through cracked lips. “You must understand; I am a loyal subject and innocent of any plot against you.”
“A plea of innocence is guilty of wasting my time,” Syl snapped back at him. She turned her attention back to Carnius. “Do you understand, champion?”
“I do,” Carnius said.
“Good,” Syl nodded. She rose from her throne, and gestured for Carnius and his companions to follow. “We must speak in private, away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.”
“Who’s going to eavesdrop here?” Carnius asked, looking around the hall. “It’s just, your bodyguard and these poor sods on the crosses.”
“And you don’t think that these betrayers would take any chance they had to stab me in the back once more?” Syl said. “They will take any opportunity they get to whisper secrets they overhear into traitorous ears if I let them. The conversation I wish to carry out must be conducted in private. Follow me.”
One of the Dark Seducers pushed open a side door in the main hallway for the Duchess, and without much choice, the three of them followed, uncomfortably aware that, aside from Salyan’s lyre, their weapons were all at Cutter’s. They were lead down a grey stone corridor to a private room, the heavy door pushed open by one of the hooded bodyguards who checked its innards before nodding an all clear. She entered first, and the Dark Seducer at the back waited for them to enter before she shut the door behind them.
“Any listening charms?” Syl asked her remaining bodyguard.
The Daedra raised a crystal and swept it across the room before staring into its surface.
“None that it can detect, milady,” she said.
“Good,” Syl nodded, before she turner her attention to the three companions. “Do you know why I’ve called you here, Champion?”
“Indulge me,” Carnius said.
“I’m under attack,” Syl said. “Everywhere I’ve looked, I’ve found conspirators, traitors, scheming backstabbers, all of them planning my undoing. One or two, perhaps, could be dissidents or insurrectionists or individual malcontents, but the numbers I have found point to a conspiracy of a scale I dread to imagine. None of the traitors I’ve brought in have been willing to confess who it is, but there must be someone, somewhere, who is orchestrating it.”
She glanced at Carnius.
“You’re new here, so that makes you marginally more trustworthy than the rest of them,” Syl said. “I am appointing you as my Grand Inquisitor; I want you to find these conspirators and bring them to me.”
“Any leads?” Carnius asked.
“Go speak to Herdir,” Syl replied. “He’s my torturer, and he can help you track them down. He’s in the dungeon.”
“I see,” Carnius nodded. “We’ll be going then.”
Syl nodded, and the three left. They headed through the corridors, going downards in the hope of finding the dungeon.
“So are either of you two surprised that she finds conspiracies everywhere?” Salyan asked once they were out of earshot.
“No,” Carnius and Almeria said in unison.
“Thought not,” Salyan said. “I mean, we could just drag somebody in here from the street and tell Syl that they’re the mastermind behind this supposed conspiracy and she’d probably believe us.”
Carnius glanced over at her.
“I’m not suggesting that we do it!” Salyan protested. “I’m just saying that she’s likely to buy it.”
“She’s right, you know,” Almeria nodded. She wiped a finger underneath her nose and frowned at it.
“You alright?” Salyan asked.
“Nosebleed,” Almeria replied. She shrugged and pulled a kerchief from her pocket, dotted with small red stains, and held it underneath her nose. “They happen sometimes, I just need to wait for it to subside.”
“If you’re sure,” Carnius said.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Almeria replied, a snap in her voice.
“Hey, you two,” Salyan said, stopping outside a havy door of wood and iron. “I think we’ve found the dungeon.”
She raised her fist and thumped it against the door a few times. After a few moments of waiting, there was the sound of bolts sliding and locks rattling, and it groaned open. On the other side was a middle-aged balding Imperial, and he looked at the three of them with a look between curiosity and some kind of hunger.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Are you Herdir?” Salyan asked.
“I am, yes,” he said. “What do you want?”
“Syl asked us to find you,” Carnius said. “We’re trying to track down the mastermind behind all of these conspiracies, and she said you could help.”
“Ah, of course,” Herdir nodded. “Yes, you look like you could be of some use to me. Come in, come in.”
The room he ushered them into was a large box of dark stone, occupied by a table and desk scattered with parchments. Along one wall was a large chart, different words connected by writing. A few moments of staring at them, and Carnius realised that they were different names.
“Are these all conspirators?” Salyan asked.
“They were,” Herdir nodded. “And while they might have been uncovered there are always more out there.”
“I’m sure there are,” Almeria said. “So what leads do you have?”
“I have reason to suspect that the Duellists, or at least members of their group, are plotting against Lady Syl,” Herdir said.
“The Duellists?” Carnius asked.
“They are a group of Crucible’s citizens who meet periodically on the rooftop of Sickly Bernice’s Taphouse,” Herdir said. “As their name suggests, they fight each other in organised bouts whenever they meet. They’re highly secretive about their meetings, though; they will avoid talking about the group when not in their meetings, and are suspicious of any outsiders.”
“So what makes you think they’re plotting against Syl, then?” Carnius asked.
“If they had nothing to hide, they would not be so secretive,” Herdir said. “As they’re being secretive, they must be up to something, and more likely than not, it’s a conspiracy against the Duchess. This is where you can help, though; you three have no connection to Syl, so they may be willing to let you in. At least they’ll let you in, Imperial; your two friends are Manics and most likely they’ll be rejected.”
He frowned.
“The only issue is how to get into the Duellists themselves,” he said. “Joining them is supposed to be notoriously difficult.”
“That’s easy,” Almeria said. “I’m a member.”
“You’re a…what?” Herdir asked. “How?”
“Well my girlfriend of six months is a member of the Duellists and I was made an honorary member not too long ago,” Almeria said.
“But how did you get in?” Herdir said, almost in protest. “You’re a Manic.”
“I’m really good at fighting things, apparently,” Almeria shrugged. “So they let me in.”
“I see,” Herdir nodded “Perhaps I could question your-”
“Lay a finger on her and I will hurt you,” Almeria said. Her tone was flat, but the threat on it was evident. “We can ask around at the Duelists and see what we can find out. You stay here, that’ll make it easier for us to keep our cover.”
“Of course,” Herdir said. “I hope to hear from you soon.”
The three took it as their cue to leave, and as they shut the door behind them Carnius asked; “So when are the Duellists meeting next?”
“Tonight,” Almeria said as they set out along the corridors of Syl’s court to the outdoors. “Getting both of you in should be pretty easy seeing as both myself and Cutter can vouch for you. After that, you can ask around all you need to.”
“And are there any burgeoning conspiracies against Syl there?” Salyan asked.
Almeria glanced around for a moment making sure they were alone.
“Outside,” she said in a low voice. “I can explain more there.”
They hurried out into the streets of Crucible, and Almeria lead them a short way away. She stopped by an alleyway and ushered them into it, Carnius dropping a few coins to an old Dunmer beggar sitting by its mouth.
“Go and get yourself something to eat,” he said to the mer as the septims landed in the wooden bowl held in his wrinkled grey hands.
“Of course,” the beggar said, his voice cracked, harsh and scraping. He rose to his feet with the aid of the staff he carried, and tucked the bowl into a fold of his tattered robes. “Madgod smile upon you, kind sir.”
Almeria shot him a glance as Carnius stepped into the shadows with her and Salyan.
“Just making sure we aren’t eavesdropped on,” he said. “So what was it you wanted to say about the Duellists, then?”
“There is a plot,” Almeria said. “And they do plan on taking down Syl. I don’t know the full details, and you’d have to ask Muurine about it, but the Duellists are just part of the plan against Syl. Crucible hates her, and Muurine is one of the people heading up the fight against her.”
“So how did you get involved in this?” Carnius asked. “I mean, it’s not as if that’s going to affect Bliss, is it?”
“No, it won’t,” Almeria said. “But Cutter’s part of this and she could potentially get hurt; somebody could inform on her and the next thing I know a squad of Dark Seducers have knocked down her door and dragged her off to Herdir. I can’t let that happen.”
“We’ll help,” Salyan said. “I don’t like Syl anyway.”
Carnius nodded.
“From what I’ve seen of Syl, this Muurine might have the right idea about getting rid of her,” he said. “I’m in.”
Almeria nodded.
“I’m pleased to hear that,” she said. “Thank you, both of you.”
She smiled.
“I’m sure Syl doesn’t stand a chance.”
...
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...Hope that doesn't come back to bite her... 
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