Well, shit, that took a while. After getting sidetracked with Expedition 33 and Death Stranding 2 (as well as a road trip from Vegas to DC that very nearly ended in disaster on multiple occasions), I got back around to my sorcerous adventures in the Shivering Isles (for the uninitiated, the Shivering Isles contain the “Realm of Madness” originally introduced as DLC for Oblivion back in 2007).

Last time we checked in, my character, the nefariously-named Draevys, was in the midst of befriending the Lord of Madness himself, Sheogorath. (If you missed that entry, you can read it here: https://scrubreport.com/2025/05/27/adventures-in-oblivion-madness-awaits/.)

Keep in mind, I was drunk for most of the following, and didn’t take notes, so you’ll be getting my unfiltered, uh, “recollections.”

Day 6:

I stop to do some googling and figure out where the fuck I can buy some spells (given that my character is nominally a sorcerer). I wind up with “Hailfire,” which does what it says on the tin, but with the accuracy of Helen Keller operating an AC-130 turret. Next, I go on a forgettable errand to retrieve a pimp chalice for Duke Fuckwit, which is much more boring than that description makes it sound.

The next quest, in somewhat predictable fashion, has me choosing between the Isles’ two major factions and align with either the Golden Saints or the Dark Seducers – the reason? I forget.

I return to Sheogorath’s palace and chat up Duke Fuckwit, because I’m consistent, and get some loud clothes for my trouble. Neat.

Day 7:

It’s a week into my time in the Shivering Isles, and my career is looking up: I forget exactly why, but I’m offered the opportunity to off Duke Fuckwit and seize his position as Duke of Mania.

Unfortunately, I can’t just Hailfire Duke Fuckwit into, well, Oblivion. Rather, I must complete a very specific ritual that requires a very specific ingredient: the Duke’s own poisoned blood. Note that I said “poisoned.” His blood starts off normal.

…and that’s where I come in. Now, you’d think I could just stab the guy to death with a dagger covered in poison, but no. The game insists that you poison his booze and then get the blood from his lethally-poisoned corpse. It’s right about now that I start being thankful for the time I spent grinding levels in Stealth back in the first installment of this series. I sneak into a silo that…produces poison, I guess, and – you guessed it – lift some poison. Then I make like an alcoholic mole and sneak into Duke Fuckwit’s wine cellar, where I proceed to add a new note to his favorite vintage. Lo and behold, the poison works, and I’m able to collect his blood in front of God and everybody (the game mercifully leaves the mechanics of this “collection” to the imagination).

One ritual later and I’m Duke Fuckwit the Second. Alongside the noble title, I receive an extremely masculine bejeweled diadem that spends the rest of my time in the Isles essentially stapled to my head.

For some reason my ascension pisses off the Duchess of Dementia, who says she’s going to do a coup. Probably not the best way to start a coup, but who am I, Willem Dafoe in XxX: State of the Union?

As the newly-minted Duke of Mania, I get right to work and proceed to…well, not really do much of anything, if we’re being honest. I try to throw a party in the throne room but only Sheogorath and Haskill the butler show up (and I think they were only there out of pity).

Day 8:

A coup is in progress! Uh-oh! I think it was Duchess Depression who started it, given that she said that she was going to start a coup.

At some point (perhaps in relation to the aforementioned coup), an army of crystalline guys dubbed “Knights of Order” start showing up. Their visual design is neat, but they’re pretty one-note in combat. Their leaders are some generic evil-priest looking motherfuckers, who I euphemistically transfer to a different diocese.

I lead the Golden Saints into battle against the Knights of Order, which would be cool if it didn’t end with another trek into another samey dungeon. Underground ruins are, at this point, about as exciting as a freshly-shit diaper, but I soldier on, because I take my job seriously.

Turns out the Dark Seducers aren’t doing so well, with Duchess Depression having abandoned them in favor of the squares. I traipse over to their fortress to help them out, and…have to go into another fucking concrete dungeon. At least the doors are interesting in this one.

The Dark Seducers are happy for the help, but – and I hate to be picky, here – they don’t put a lot of effort in with the whole “seduction” thing. There’s not even a lame double entendre about “shivering my isles.”

Day 9:

My next task, if I’m remembering correctly (I’m probably not) is to reassemble that big-ass Frankenstein’s Monster wannabe named the Gatekeeper. This has me building a sort of demented version of a Ken doll to replace the one I’d killed back on Day 1. I am disappointed to find that I can’t, like, give him wangs for legs, or move his eyeballs to his ass. Still, he smashes Knights of Order real nice, and for that, I thank him.

Day 10:

I head back to the palace and chat with Sheogorath before he disappears (presumably off to find new ways to inconvenience me). Now I’ve got to find some “Symbols of Office” to take over his role while he’s off role-playing as Jyggalag, the God (or something) of Order.

Naturally, this leads to another fucking root dungeon (like the silo and pimp-chalice storage area from earlier). I am incredibly thankful to whichever bright soul put the “Clairvoyance” spell into this game (it provides a little glowing line showing the direction to your objective), because finding your way around these samey-looking caverns, tree roots, and caves is a real pain in the dick-tip when you’re drunk.

The ”twist” in this dungeon is about as thrilling as hemorrhoids: you have to make use of braindead Gnarls (shitty Ents) to help open locked areas. After putting Treebeard’s inbred relatives to work, I pick up two final MacGuffins and power up Sheogorath’s staff by…dunking it in a fountain? I mean, whatever works, I guess. With my weapon newly baptized, I prepare to take the battle to the enemy.

Day 11:

The palace is under attack! By this point, I’ve killed more knights than preventable infections and am getting mighty tired of it. Thankfully, my crew of Golden Saints is on hand to assist (that is, be meat shields).

Jyggalag, whose name is difficult to spell, is basically a big Knight of Order, but at least he’s different. The boss fight boiled down to me playing peek-a-boo with the big glassy fuck and blasting him with Hailfire until he…I dunno, he didn’t die, really, more just disappeared and granted me the right to rule the Kingdom of Madness, which is neat.

Day 12:

Having attained the title (and fabulous robes) of the Lord of Madness, I poked around his (my?) palace to see what wondrous treasures and rewards awaited. I’d just spent a frankly aggravating amount of time dredging through boring-ass dungeons and figured I’d at least be able to, like, ride a hippopotamus through the sky as a reward.

Nope. I couldn’t even find a fucking bed to sleep in or a chest to stash my belongings (that’s not to say they aren’t in the game – just that my drunk self couldn’t find them). Thusly disappointed, I plonk my ass on the throne and set to plotting my next moves.

Day 13:

I return to the “real” world of Cyrodiil, clad in long pink robes, wielding a cool wizard staff, and leveled all the way up to 11. Unfortunately, all I survey do not immediately fall to their knees in recognition of my status; rather, pretty much everybody thinks I am a wierdo, and say so to my face. Ego thoroughly punctured, I make my way to the Imperial City, where I enlist as an arena gladiator in order to blow off some steam. I proceed to Hailfire my way through every challenger the villainous yellow team throws in my direction before absolutely BEASTING upon the Grand Champion, who has an interesting backstory that I give precisely zero fucks about. At some point during this, I take a nap and am rudely awoken by a hooded figure representing the Dark Brotherhood (the Assassin’s Guild, essentially), who gives me a knife and a job that I promptly forget about (there was more immediate murder to be had at the arena). After becoming Grand Champion, I fight in a couple of special matches (against a pair of minotaurs and, for some reason, a bear) that pay off quite handsomely. During my run through the ranks of the arena, I make significantly more gold than I did during my ascension through the Court of Madness.

Having padded my pockets in satisfactory fashion, I purchase the nearest available house, because I still don’t have anywhere to store all the shit I stole off dead bodies, and wind up with the key to some plank-sided shithole on the Imperial City Waterfront. Matches my personality, I guess. I’m now level 12, own a crate to stash my ill-gotten gains in, and have a murderous contract to complete. The world is my oyster.

To be continued…