This fic has been updated, no longer is it a challenge alone, but hopefully a rather legitimate attempt to execute my idea. Still anyone is free to try writing their own if they are up to it.

This story will have Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness being strongly involved in the Claymore-verse. Another key thing I want to note, for those whom are aware of Shivering Isles Lore, Sheogorath is implied to be Champion of Cyrodiil. I took liberty to add an extra detail (implied in Skyrim), over the centuries Sheogorath has become a rather distinct and independent entity, hence making Jyggalag and the Madgod separate entities possessing a body. With this, I made it so that Sheogorath's persona has completely taken over the Champion's vessel, changing it back to the Madgod's image.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NO OWN CLAYMORE OR THE ELDER SCROLLS SERIES, AS PER FANFICTION PROTOCOL.

210 years after the passing of Jyggalag;

It was an insane day in New Sheoth...however considering it is the Shivering Isles, the Oblivion Plane of Sheogorath, one might just conclude that it is an exceedingly ordinary day. The citizens of Mania are blissfully unaware anything and everything, and this included common sense which normally involves the inability to acknowledge that ravenous hungers are dangerous, which would likely lead one to being eaten alive when one tries to invite a hunger over for tea. The denizens of Dementia remain ever paranoid, believing that everyone... including themselves are out for their blood. For those who claim that it does not make any sense, well rationality is an unwanted commodity in Sheogorath's plane.

Back in New Sheoth Palace, Sheogorath wanders aimlessly around the halls. The Daedric Prince of Madness took the appearance of an aged but overly energetic man, with neat combed back hair and thick facial hair and eyes with black sclera, golden iris and black, vertically slitted pupil. Although his features were old, he had strong glints of mischievousness childishness and insanity. Sheogorath wore his regalia and had his walking cane with him.

Sheogorath was busy undertaking the customary duties required of a MadGod which includes but is not limited to; disintegrating his courtiers or the New Sheoth's citizens for saying something remotely logical, threatening others with the forceful removal of entrails, or rewarding others with Cheese...or more forceful removal of entrails. To the MadGod, life was HECTIC; after the timely and/or untimely death of Lord Thadon of Mania, and Lady Syl of Dementia. The Greymarch that took place two centuries ago really damaged their job satisfaction to the point that they have committed suicide... or was it murdered?

Regardless of that, after tending to the daily rituals, the Mad God felt a strong disturbance in the balance of his plane, so strong that he himself broke into a cold sweat, the Mad God was BORED... or was it excited? Filing that question for later consideration, he entered his chamber and looked into a curious crystal ball that he stowed in his irrationally large chest in front of his bed.

It was an interesting tool to say the least, the crystal ball was gift from Hermaeus Mora on his 189th birthday as a "Non-Jyggalag" Sheogorath. The unusual looking Daedra Lord called it the "All Seeing Sphere", the Mad God often makes fun of Mora's lack of inspiration in naming his artefacts.

'Hermy should really start tossing away all those tomes and start living life a little... perhaps I should give him some cheese... or perhaps some clowns, they taste like butter and tears... or was it clouds?' thought the Mad God, he took pity on Mora, living an eternity reading books and scrolls can really make one's inventions sound so dull.

Back to the "All Seeing Sphere", with this little gift, it allowed the user to see anything and everything as long as it is not the realm of Aedra and that of other Daedra Lords. Sheogorath wanted to take a tour to the mortal plane, but did not have a location in mind at the moment. But what he had in his mind was how he would reward one of his citizens for his exceedingly deranged but classic attempt at flying without wings ...again. The Mad God thought out loud "Ahh Lordemir, such an inspiring fella, flying without wings and failing is by no means uncommon, but there is something so elegant with how he does it. I am so happy, I could just drag him to the Palace and shove a claymore into his..."

Sheogorath did not realise he was channeling magicka into the sphere the moment he said "Claymore", and in response, the sphere lit up, interrupting the Mad God from his brainstorming and diverting his attention towards it. The sphere showed an island, clearly within the mortal plane, but not in Tamriel. It was an island, conveniently situated to the East to Tamriel but still a distance from Akavir. It was a modestly large island continent, perhaps about the same size as Morrowind. Normally the Mad God would start ranting about the fact that no one interrupts him except for himself, especially an inanimate object, but something really caught his attention, and it was the name of the island, or lack of it. 'Nameless, now that is just crazy! No one in their right mind would forget to name their island! I really congratulate the inhabitants for that...' the Mad God thought with a grin. Looks like he has found his entertainment for the hour and started to observe the inhabitants of this curious little island that currently has no name..

Several mortal hours later,

Sheogorath found the more "special" inhabitants of the island mesmerising and inspiring; called "Yoma" by the native mortals, but he knew it was just an overly fancy way to call a daedra. It was truly an excellent masterpiece of insanity, chaos and violence. For the past few hours, the Mad God observed the indiscriminate killings made by the daedras which were an interesting hybrid of Scamps and Mehrunes' Dremoras. He was also deeply flattered with the way they rip off the entrails of its victims, it must have taken years of practice to pull it off so perfectly, or was it just raw bloodlust and hunger?

However, nothing caught the eye of the MadGod more than the female hunters of those daedras; the Mad God may be insane and does not recognise needs of a mortal man (but he could if he wanted to), but he could certainly recognise true beauty when he saw it. These hunters had striking silver eyes that seem to glow in the darkest of nights, skin as pale as ivory and beauty that could give Nocturnal, Azura and Meridia a run for their Septims. Contrasting this deceptively soft allure, the hunters' donned silver armour that fit their frame perfectly and wield great swords with such effortlessness and ease as a child would hold a twig. These hunters made quick work of each and every daedra they came across with brutal efficiency and mercilessness one would expect from members of the Dark Brotherhood. The Mad God would stop his monologue there but something else about these women caught his eye, and only a true master of Madness could see it. Beneath this facade of angelic beauty, lay the dormant personalities of their inner daedra; bloodlust, fury and rage that would impress Mehrunes Dagon, but most importantly unrivalled insanity when they unleashed it that made the mad God drool in envy. Suffice to say, these hunters interest Sheogorath...immensely.

"Haskill...HASKILL!" yelled the Mad God.

"You called my lord?" responded Haskill, Sheogorath's eternal chamberlain. Haskill understood the responsibilities of being the MadGod's chamberlain very well. As such, he took the liberty of understanding space-time manipulation and hence appearing out of thin air whenever he needed to, especially when his Lord yells at the top of his lungs and expects him to be at his side seconds later.

"Oh Haskill, what can I do for you? I am rather busy now as you can obviously see and I loathe interruptions...unless the interruption is not interrupting but that would not be an interruption now would it?"

"Well my lord, you have requested my presence and hence the reason I am here" Haskill replied impassively, one would get used to the MadGod's antics and overly long explanations-without-basis if he has spent centuries serving him.

"Did I now... OH INDEED! I do require your help, you are a genius Haskill!" The MadGod glanced at his chamberlain's attire "I see you are still as fashion-conscious as ever."

"This is the formal chamberlain regalia my Lord."

"Well so is Cheese, you don't see me wearing it day in and day out..." Haskill nodded in agreement, these are perhaps one of the most effective responses to give when addressing the MadGod, agree to anything he says.

"Is there anything you desire my Lord?"

"Ah yes! Have a look at this Haskill, look at this, insanity and beauty in its purest form!"

The chamberlain looked into the sphere, closely observing the silver-eyed huntresses mercilessly butchering the Scamp-Dremora daedra hybrids. Haskill is the only legally sane individual in the Shivering isles, and he admits there is an underlying grace and elegance in how these female warriors fought daedras that were many times their size.

"They are a work of art Haskill, I may be Mad... which I very warmly thank those for the compliment, BUT I do appreciate real works of art when I come across one. I think it is about time I start a recruitment campaign for my own legion of personal bodyguards. Think of all the fun that will be!" Haskill looked up after the Mad God's childish declaration.

"I apologise my lord, but do you not already have the Golden Saints and Dark Seducers under your employment? I have to say they have been performing admirably in keeping the Isles in pristine condition and having another legion of different protectors is not what the Isles need." Haskill, the Mad God's only tolerated lucid thinker was sceptical. The Golden Saints and Dark Seducers have been in the service of the MadGod for a long time, hence recruiting other protectors, from Nirn no less would be troublesome.

Sheogorath sensed the scepticism in his loyal Chamberlain's demeanour and uncharacteristically turned serious. "Haskill, I am fully aware that the Aureal and the Mazken have been performing admirably in keeping the peace in my realm, but they do not understand what it means to embrace true insanity. The Aureal remains with Mania, while the Mazken will always be part of dementia, one can never be truly insane when they embrace one but not the other. They have only seen one side of the coin, one side of insanity" The Mad God confessed, in deep thought and unable to keep his eye away from the huntresses shown in Mora's Sphere.

"But when I see these damsels with my own eyes, and saw that insanity when they unleashed their daedric energy, I knew these women would be the champions that I have always dreamt of, I have always wanted. On one hand they are peaceful, collected, serene and delicate while on the other they hunger for blood, basking in the pleasures of a good slaughter, the sadistic glee and derangement when they embraced their inner daedra. The polarised personalities, the conflicting realities of peace and chaos in an earthly form, that is the insanity that I have been looking for Haskill... the insanity from twisting two properties that cannot co-exist, two sides of a coin...madness."

Haskill was speechless, his expression being of total shock. Sheogorath disregarded his expression and continued on his commentary.

"The natives of the island call themselves Claymores; sound too harsh... too barbaric, not a name worthy enough to be bestowed to true paragons of Madness. Perhaps something more subtle... more nuanced a title worthy of such perfection, that accentuates their eyes... perhaps, the eyes that enthrall the Madgod"

Haskill was astonished, bewildered, flabbergasted, and shocked to his core! What his lord and Master actually said was so well thought out and very sane. His behaviour instilled a very tangible sense of dread within his chamberlain's being. The last time Sheogorath even acted sane was when Jyggalag returned for the next Greymarch, and that had been around two centuries ago! Since Jyggalag's return is no longer an issue of worry with his new mortal host being converted to a daedric one, Haskill deduced that the only reason for his lord's sudden surge of sanity would only be one thing; Sheogorath needs to acquire these silver-eyed warriors. It was much like finding an Elder Scroll to the Mages College. Haskill knew when his Lord acted sane, it was an infinitely serious matter, and this is evidence enough to disregard all scepticisms and to share in his Lord's priority. Getting these huntresses into his Lord's service is paramount.

"Very well my lord, I understand the gravity of your concern. If it is what you require, the court of Madness will accommodate to your whim".

When those words were said, the Mad God's lapse of sanity passed. Sheogorath put on a cheesy grin and declared "Well, the bootlicker type now are you? Well I cannot blame them; otherwise they won't get the pleasure to donate their kidneys now do they? Kidney pie is good, but I suppose acquiring the key ingredients is better... oh, can I help you Haskill?"

"You have expressed the desire to recruit a new legion of guards under the Court of Madness my Lord, I shall consult Hermaeus Mora to gather more information on your prospective servants".

"Ah carry on then! Don't be a stranger now Haskill! By the way, do you not look strapping today; I bet a few Mazkens will be very thrilled to see you!" Haskill sighed inwardly and went to look for the Daedric Prince of Knowledge and memory.

2 Hours Mortal time later

Sheogorath spend the two hours with his eyes glued to the "All Seeing Sphere" which he now affectionately called "Hermy's Ball". Now the MadGod pride himself with having an unbelievably low attention span, even in the most serious of circumstances, but when it came to these mystical half-daedra that he now called "Silver Watchers" he could not divert his attention to anything other than what was in Hermy's Ball.

He did know there were many of these huntresses roaming that nameless island, but he naturally hated counting as it was too troublesome and FAR too logical to do. All of them were unique, in their own way, but two of the huntresses stood out to him and the biggest irony is that they are identical twins, thus making them hard to differentiate if they stood side-by-side.

What made them stand out from the rest of the others was their obsidian black plate armour; whilst the others wore predominantly silver. The twins both had platinum blonde hair, the same striking silver eyes common to all the "Silver Watchers" as well as matching claymores. As far as the MadGod can observe, both near identical warriors fought as a pair, working together with virtually perfect synchronisation, almost as if they could read each others' minds.

"Pfft, what is so great about reading each others' mind anyway, I could read my own mind without trying... and I just did!" Moments after the MadGod's rant, Haskill returned from his meeting with Hermaeus Mora.

"HASKILL! What did I say about interrupting me, especially in my self-absorbed rants?"

"I apologise my lord, Lord Mora has agreed to provide us with information those Claymores that you-"

"They are called Silver WATCHERS Haskill, I will not tolerate you slandering their good name with such a demeaning title, their dignity has been irreversibly tarnished and I DEMAND SATISFACTION AND CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL TO THE DEATH!"

Haskill sighed "Lord Mora has provided the information on these Watchers as per your request my Lord, perhaps I shall read it out to you..."

For the next hour, Haskill went through all that needs to be said regarding the warriors who caught the MadGod's eye, although unsure as to whether his Lord is listening to his findings or not. The silver-eyed huntresses had multiple "generations" attached to them, each generation had different members. Members of the past generation have either been killed off or succumbed to their inner Daedra and "awakened"... Haskill was confident that the MadGod was not listening to the bulk of his commentary, and is not sure what is running through his Lord's honest to goodness insane mind.

However, when Haskill reached to the point where he noted that all the Huntresses were given orders by an entity called "The Organisation", Sheogorath exclaimed "WHAT, what organisation calls their organisation "The Organisation"? Oh the nerve, when I get my hands of them they will know terror! The terror to have their entrails ripped out and I skipping rope with them! Oh they will have so much fun... and so much pain"

"Indeed my lord, it is a tragedy of unimaginable proportions" Haskill interjected before the MadGod got too absorbed with his rants and threats.

"Haskill, what do you mean that my Silver Eyed beauties are being ordered by this Organisation?"

"As I have pointed out my lord, every single one of them receive orders from this organisation, not unlike a servant to a master my lord"

Upon hearing this piece of information, the Mad God returned to his uncharacteristically serious personality. He heard all that needs to be heard from Haskill. Contrary to his chamberlain's perception, the MadGod actually paid attention; he is very aware the obstacle stopping him from acquiring the allegiance of these huntresses was this higher-up body. He was faced with few logical choices, control this "Organisation", or destroy it. He was a Daedric Prince, one of the most powerful at that, destroying an organisation of mortals (or half-mortals) should have little to no effort...

"I HAVE GOT IT HASKILL! Oh I am so excited I could have brain pie, oh I do love eating, especially if it is brain pie, but not as much as cheese...sigh too bad no one donating their brain lately, I would have been so happy I could kiss them, or strangle them..."

"Should I be informed of this epiphany my lord?" Haskill was curious

"No you should not be informed, but you shall be informed! This Organisation needs to loosen up, a bit of Uncle Sheogorath's special remedy will do wonders; large doses destruction, slaughter and with a small splash of apple juice." The MadGod interjected cheerfully. Then the cheerfulness was replaced by a sadistic grin "I will destroy this organisation, kill every member, skin every one of them alive, pluck out their eyeballs; and then I can ride off with the princess in the sunset."

"And how will you do that my lord" Haskill asked, somewhat knowing his lord's response would be destruction and violence. Mind you, Sheogorath was not Dagon, but all daedric princes enjoyed destruction of some form, Dagon just liked it more. But Haskill was very curious as to HOW he will do it.

"Simple kind sir! I shall MOVE MOUNTAINS... or mount movements? Yes, yes, mount movements is right; I shall gather the affection of my Silver-eyed damsels and shall tell their parents that what we have is special and they can do nothing to keep us apart! Then we will ride off in the sunset and live happily ever after...or destroy the Organisation with them!" the MadGod excitedly replied. According to Haskill's invaluable experience, it meant gathering the support and allegiance of the Huntresses one at a time, and ultimately destroy the organisation with their own tools. It was slow, compared to other alternatives, but upon further interpretation, the MadGod did not want any of his soon to be Watchers be caught in the crossfire when they are ordered to protect the Organisation. Although slow, it was a logical choice. Haskill shuddered internally as he discovered the MadGod's underlying sanity in a seemingly insane statement.

"Shall I gather some Golden Saints and Dark Seducers to accompany you on this endeavour my lord?"

"No, I will do this myself, a little "me time" does wonders; it is about time I stretched my bones, or have my bones stretch me. Hmm, decisions, decisions... make things too indecisive, I HATE indecision...or maybe I don't, well I suppose I will have to make up my mind... or have I already made it?"

"Yes you have made up your mind my lord; you have expressly stated that you will take the liberty to undertake this task personally" Haskill succinctly repeated the MadGod's decision.

"I see..." was the MadGod's reply, until his attention was diverted back to the "Hermy's Sphere". I stared fixated with the projection of the two obsidian armoured twins, in exactly 10 minutes he finally spoke up, "Who are they?"

Haskill took a look at the people that caught the MadGod's eye; the colour of their armour gave him the answer.

"They are the current number One and Two in the hierarchy of the Watchers, and due to some coincidence, they are also twins. I believe Number one goes by the name of Alicia and Number two is Beth. As a result of the colour of their armour, I believe both of them are given the tile "Black" by the native population, but I suppose it is also related to their skills in-"

"I'll take them!" the MadGod declared before Haskill finished his description, and continued "I will offer them the pleasure of my acquaintance, so to Nirn I shall depart for kind sir. I shall take my leave, good day to you, I say good day!"

As Sheogorath got up from his seat and head to his chamber doors, Haskill was immediately aware that his lord has decided to head to the island, and very likely started the recruitment with the two highest ranked daedra-huntresses, "likely" being the key word as there is a possibility that the MadGod would sidetrack and start finding some cheese, or mutilate a person at random when he arrived; no doubt it was entirely up to his lord's mood for the day. The chamberlain's doubts were lessened when he saw a look normally absent in the MadGod...determination. Once again he is reminded of the very lucid speech the MadGod gave few hours ago, and knew this was an important matter to his lord.

"Are you bringing any other tools to aid you my lord? For as far as I know you have given the Dragonborn your Wabbajack"

"I think my old and faithful walking cane will suffice Haskill" Sheogorath chirped, tapping on his walking cane, but he soon fell into a whisper "do not talk about Wabbajack in front the cane, he is the jealous type and I can see him (cane) giving him (Wabbajack) some VERY unpleasant glares time and again, this is why I gave Wabbajack to the Dragonborn, they need to keep a distance with each other..."

When Sheogorath and Haskill left the MadGod's private chambers, they deeper down in New Sheoth Palace till they reached a portal entrance leading to Nirn; Haskill recalled another vital matter and decided to voice it out before his lord left on another excursion.

"My Lord, have you any recommendations of future dukes or duchess of Mania and Dementia?"

Sheogorath irritably replied "What? No, nothing yet! Don't annoy me about this Haskill, there is all the time in the world! I'll give it a thought.. if I do think." His irritation was short lived, and he returned to his cheerful and enthusiastic self. Sheogorath took one step into the portal to Nirn and his destination and made a parting statement "Well I am off! I bid you good day for I shall head off to... the island has no name does it? I suppose I can decide on a name later, it definitely needs a name!"

With that, the MadGod returned to Nirn, and to the island filled with daedras and half-daedric huntresses. That was the moment that set the Silver Watchers on the path to be the true champions of the MadGod.

AN: So much for low likelihood for an update, well the chapter 2 will be a legitimate chapter instead of challenge details. Anyone whom has read this chapter for the first time, let me know what you think. I will get time to edit it further.

Like I said, anyone up for writing on this idea, let me know, I will PM the original challenge details. Until next time.

Druid