I walked for a good while and once I felt I was far enough away from the city used [shape stone] to open a small cave in the side of the mountain. I had already basically told Lokjun to take care of himself for now as I closed up the cave entrance before sending some magicka into the hat sitting atop my head. The waving pincers paused at this and closed together creating a spark of light that grew and grew until it consumed me entirely. There was no pain but I distinctly felt myself get plucked, yes plucked, from the realm and into another.-
When my eyes got to working again I found myself in a small grey room that appeared to be made of stone. There was a single door that had strange depictions on it I couldn't even begin to describe. In the center of the room was a plain grey stone table with a metronome of all things on it just ticking back and forth in rhythm. It's three sides however depicted a face screaming with three different emotions, typical Madgod iconic symbolism.-
There were two chairs by the table, one on each side. On the far chair sat what looked to be the most dead faced imperial I had ever seen in dark puffy clothing with a sharp star like collar of burgundy. He had a head with no hair up top but some on the sides, friar style. His cheeks drooped slightly and his expressionless face mixed to give him an almost bulldog-like appearance.-
"You are here. Wonderful. Please have a seat so we may begin." he spoke with absolutely no emotion at all.
"You must be Haskill." I said calmly as I took a seat.
"So you have done your homework. How very good of you. Yes. I am the chamberlain to the lord Sheogorath, the Madgod." he said blandly.
"He must really want to make a good impression if he sent you. Anyone else he might send on whim but never you." I said pointedly.
"His purpose is not for me to guess. I merely serve at his leisure. If you are quite done with this pointless posturing I believe it prudent to get this matter concluded." Haskill said calmly.
"Before that however I have a question. Call it a personal curiosity. What was it like? Failing to mantle him I mean?" I asked and for the first time during this entire encounter the expression on Haskill's face changed.
It wasn't rage or anything you might expect from having such a tender wound prodded but a profound expression of loss. Like the echo of something that used to be there one moment and gone the next. The change ended and that same hollowness returned once more.
"You would be best served not speaking of things you know nothing of. If you insist on knowing however it was agony on a level your mortal mind could not begin to comprehend." he said calmly.
"I was merely curious. You are unique in all of Oblivion after all. A worthy topic of research for anyone aiming for godhood, even if through another method." I said honestly.
"Be careful, mortal, that your appetite does not outstrip your means. I am living proof of what happens if you fail to heed my warning." he said calmly but even still I could feel the gravity that he put in those words.
I nodded seriously "I have no intention of treating this path lightly. Enough of this though, you are here for a purpose no?" I said calmly.
"Our lord has bid me to properly welcome you to the isles. Behind me lies the door that will begin your journey through it. We are currently within the Fringe, a sort of entry point for most who come to the isles. At it's end there are two doors, one to mania, one to dementia. Because you bear my lords invitation the gatekeeper will not stop you from choosing one to enter the realm proper. Like all choices this one comes with it's own consequences. The lands of mania reflect the nature of it's residents. Colorful and vibrant with oddities and wonders alike. The lands of dementia are the opposite, dark and dreary where everything means to deceive, maim or kill. You are free to make your way to New Sheoth at your leisure as you explore the realm." he said blandly before standing up and leaving through the door.
I sat there for a moment steadying myself as even during that conversation I was incredibly nervous. While Haskill might be among the most passive of beings when not ordered otherwise he was by no means weak. Quite the opposite in truth.-
As someone who even got the chance the try and mantle a god he was legendarily powerful at the least. His failure may have stripped him of much of his autonomy and almost all of his soul it did not decrease his power, only made it stronger. It was not wrong to say that in the realm his power was only less than Sheogorath himself, second to no others. Despite that however his existence was inherently tied to the isles, he could not leave. Nor could he disobey the god of this realm as he was equally bound to him.-
My own provoking question was in truth a gauge of him. A way to see if even a speck of the one who once attempted to mantle a god remained.
It didn't.
That soul was gone, all that remained was an echo of the form alone. Still I couldn't help but get suspicious at the situation. Anyone who played the elder scrolls four: Oblivion would remember it after all. This scenario was nearly identical to the one from the game despite that setting being over two hundred years prior to now. It made me wonder whether Sheogorath knew exactly how much I knew and was messing with me or was trying to force me to mantle him.-
Mantling could be summed up in a single phrase after all.
Walk like them until they walk like you.
In simple terms it meant living as closely to the same way the god did that the god starts fusing into your soul. The end result is the two essences fusing with your own essence now technically being divine. A bit like a blood transfusion if I had to describe it in mundane terms. A part of them is now permanently you even as your mortal form dies so you technically achieved godhood.