Oh Sheogorath! Many-faced devil, I know thine form! Your nine angles will go unrecognised no longer!
The First is the Face of Madness through Rage. He screams at the world, tearing and biting and clawing. Blackened, bloody nails, twisted, broken form. No longer shall your cries go unheard. Your madness seeps through the cracks, driving fury.
The Second is the Face of Madness through Fear. He hides, cowering in the brightened dark, laughing at the horrors that haunt the world. Ragged, bloody throat, contorted, aching grin. No longer shall your chuckles be unnoticed. Your madness spills from the corners, inspiring terror.
The Third is the Face of Madness through Power. He sits atop his throne in a burning world. Crumbling, rotten blade, grotesque banner. No longer shall your war-horns sound, forgotten. Your madness falls from the mountains, inspiring hunger.
The Fourth is the Face of Madness through Knowledge. He lies impaled on a mountain, with Mora behind him. Slimy tentacle, careless groan. No longer shall your whispers echo through the empty halls. Your madness poured from the pages, inspiring curiosity.
The Fifth is the Face of Madness through Pain. Slowly, he twists the rack that tears himself in two. Rusted spike, pitch fluid. No longer shall your moans resound within the lost temples of decay. Your madness ran through the sewers, inspiring torture.
The Sixth is the Face of Madness through Loss. He lays curled, tears pouring down his face, eroding the weathered stone. Dying flower on the forgotten grave, empty cradle. No longer shall your sobs wind their ways to our ears unrecognised. Your madness is carried on the wind, inspiring grief.
The Seventh is the Face of Madness through Pleasure. He sits at the base of a bottomless barrel, an ocean of pleasures above as Sanguine grins down towards him. Empty bottles, half-finished plates, tousled bed. No longer shall your seductions be heard from the mirrors and flasks by the addled mind. Your madness is carried by the scents, inspiring hedonism.
The Eighth is the Face of Madness through Innocence. He dances through the twisted forests, laughing and tearing at the creatures within. Unwanted child, broken man. No longer shall your gleeful sounds be heard by the lost. Your madness is carried by the rivers, inspiring joy.
The Ninth is the Secret Face of Madness through Order. He who mediates and guides between. Mirrored shape, two-toned separation. No longer will your silence go unnoticed within your crystal shards. Your madness is lost to this world, inspiring nothing!
Oh Sheogorath! Your many faces are turned towards the world! And they shall be seen!“S strange door” | Illustration by AbigailEldritch, DeviantArt