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Today was Cicero's birthday. The other members of the Dark Brotherhood and I had planned a birthday surprise for him.

We decided that Gabriella would be the one to perform our little plan.
Although it seemed rather disrespectful, we took our sacred Night Mother out of her casket and placed her carefully under Arnbjorn's bed.
Then we all waited for Cicero to return to the Sanctuary.

When we heard him coming through the entrance, Gabriella quickly got into the Night Mother's casket and we all hid nearby.
Cicero sauntered into the room, chatting to himself as usual.
Gabriella began whispering from inside the coffin, "Hear me, Cicero, it is I, your Night Mother."
Cicero jumped and gaped at the coffin, "Mother? Is that my sweet Mother?" He said.
I giggled from my hiding spot at this point.
He approached the casket and Gabriella spoke again, "Yes, Cicero. You are my Listener. The chosen one."
Cicero began hopping about on the spot and shrieking with glee. I heard Babette snigger from over in the shadows in the corner of the room.
"Oh ho ho! Yes! I knew it! I knew that you would pick me!!! I am your most devoted servant, Mother! Oh, yes!" He shouted.
In his excitement, he skipped over to the casket and swung open the door. His wide grin turned into a confused expression.
"What? This....this was a joke?" He stammered.
Garbriella burst out laughing and we all popped out from our hiding places, laughing and shouting 'Surprise!'. Arnbjorn was holding a large cake with candles lit on the top.
"Surprise. Happy birthday, Cicero!" Arnbjorn said.
Cicero looked around at everyone in shock. "A birthday surprise. For me? But.. where is our precious Night Mother?"
I told him, "Don't worry. She is safe in one of the sleeping chambers."
Arnbjorn approached with the cake and Cicero looked at Gabriella, who was still beside the casket. "You pretended to be Mother. You went in her casket."
He then took out his dagger and plunged it into Gabriella's chest. We all shouted out in protest and ran towards Cicero to restrain him. We got the dagger off him but Gabriella was badly wounded. She only lasted a few minutes and then she was gone. Such a waste. I can't believe our innocent birthday surprise took such a nasty turn, but...we were foolish to joke in such a way with Cicero. We all know what he's like. Needless to say, we will never surprise Cicero again.

Note from Penitus Oculatus clerk: The original copy of this letter wasn't marked with a date therefore I've been instructed by Administrator M to insert an addendum.

29th of Frostfall, Turdas, 4E 198

Inspector a_f,

The Emperor calls upon you once more. The Penitus Oculatus commends your success in unconvering the identity of the Gourmet, Balagog gro-Nolob. Now you're assigned to convince Balagog to travel to Skyrim with any means that don't compromise your presence or intentions to any Thalmor informants. You must stay your blade for this assignment, as deaths tend to draw the attention of the Thalmor. Above all, the Gourmet's identity must remain a secret.

Of equal importance, you are to ensure that Balagog receives the package that accompanies this letter. We will expect your report soon.

May the shadows guide your step.

Intendant S
---

30th of Frostfall, Fredas, 4E 198

Intendant,

Balagog gro-Nolob's 35th birthday grows near and so I will use this as an opportunity to deliver the package and see him on his way to Skyrim. I shall gain the cooperation of his close friend, Anton Virane, who will arrange and host the birthday party.
To make this facade convincing I shall have Virane invite the following guests:

The Nolob Stronghold Chieftan, Goramas, is Balagog's eldest brother. Their relationship was tenuous and they haven't seen each other for over a decade.

Oramash gro-Nolob, weaponsmith of the Imperial Legion and Balagog's youngest brother.

Virane's family. Balagog's benefactors, they treat him as family.

My eyes remain vigilant.

Inspector a_f
---

Summary of Assignment
Time of report: 3rd of Sun's Dusk, Tirdas, 4E 198
Location: Daggerfall, High Rock
Target: Balagog gro-Nolob (status: under watch in Skyrim)
Inspector: all_freed

Note from Penitus Oculatus clerk: What follows is a summary of events before, during, and after Balagog's birthday. A full transcript of the entire evening was withheld by Administrator M as the majority of the conversations were deemed redundant.

30th of Frostfall, Fredas
Anton Virane is captured, interrogated. Virane complies with my demands and his silence is assured.

1st of Sun's Dusk, Sundas
Virane works efficiently, knowing that I'm not far, invitations have been sent and preparations are underway. A few Breton and Orsimer dishes will be served but also a few Nordic foods to pique Balagog's interest. The Orsimer "cuisine" contains subliminal and blatant hints that would instill the notion that Orcs will always be unrefined. As requested, a list of food served at the party:

Sunlight Souffle, Potage le Magnifique, Crispy Chatelet, Fantastic Fondue
Bayper Dumplings, Cabbage Potato Soup, Sweetroll Samples, Honey Apple Cream Wedges
And Orsimer "dishes" that I have no name for, I have depicted them below:


3rd of Sun's Dusk, Tirdas

The guests have arrived for the dinner. Balagog is elated as he greets each guest but his mood turns from surprise to shock, then it plummets into dour when he sees Goramas, his eldest brother.

All are now seated at the table, politely nodding and smiling at each other as they pass the food around. But all attention is really on Goramas who is creating all sorts of commotion that would make most Orcs blush.

The time had come to present their gifts. Balagog graciously accepts a cutlery set from Oramash, forged from the finest Orichalcum. Virane's parents present fine clothes worthy of the highest nobility in the Court of Daggerfall. Anton, of course, hands over the intenteded package. Before it can be opened, Goramas brings in a female Orc bound in chains. Balagog barely contained his rage and demanded to know why his brother would stoop so low as to enslave even his own kind. Oramash is callous, he claimed that her tribe had fallen out of favour with Malacath.

Whatever feud they had was rekindled and the room delved into an uneasy silence. This is when Balagog suddenly stormed off and I followed.

After a few minutes of him venting his frustration he opened the package to reveal Annaig Hoinart's cookbook. I can only describe his reaction as a maelstrom of emotions, whatever he read upon opening the book spurred him into leaving Daggerfall.

A madman's birthday

You ask what does a madgod do for his birthday and why a Daedric prince has a birthday. Well, boys and girls and tortured souls of the Madgod's enemies or those that insulted his fine sense of fashion, I, Sir Stanley Fruitus Grapius Mewdor am here to tell you.

The Madgod is ageless so it is a rather pain in the ass for the candle makers to get the excat number right and they do have a nasty habit of bursting into flames once they past the octodecillion point. The city of the madgod is prone to being on fire on Sheogorath's Day but the cakes from the sky often put them out. Like marshmellows on a cat. The Realm is filled with joyious music and music that is indeed joyous. Oh and the odd wailing of the damned but we just ignore them. The sky drops cakes and clowns fill the streets of the Isles so that we can eat them in the honour of our beloved Madman. We celebrate his Sheogorathness with cheese, wine, winefulcheese, cheesy wine and disembowelments of mortals who refuse our wines and cheese. It is usually a feast to die for or to die and feast for.

Then we do the madgod's song in unison and watch as he applaud our efforts. As for the surprise? sometimes, we rebell against our crazy master. One year, we invaded his throne room with kitten pies and threw them at him. His lordiness was pleased and strangled us to death with our own beards. Of course, back then, beards were viewed as honourable things. Before the dark days of Lord Beard the 9th and his terrible army of staches that tried to defile the realm with their hairness and it was thanks to the benove... benove, kind lord Sheogorath that beards were banished from the realm and lady stache was sentenced to the room where the argonians scream at you for 90 years before moving onto the burning room of burning and having the hands of the gatekeepers tear them apart for the rest of time.

Now, back to the madgod's birthday. Well, this year, we intend to build a statue of him made out of cheese, kittens, sweetroll, guts, cabbage, you, coins and calipers. We will give it to him then throw a massive party in his honour. It is there, we will attack him with old granny clowns and watch as he skips rope with our hearts. Or give us new hearts and make us really happy. Or send us to the room where hearts and guts strangle you for a billion years. We have invited all of his citizens and we will show him how we love his lordiness!

Afterwards, we spend the rest of the year making back our cheese supplies and having mass orginal art of him being made. If he hasn't slunked off to a mad emperor's realm and bump into a shouting nord that shouts things to death. That would just be silly and rather rude.

Oh and we get him as a surprise guest for him. If we can find the old him and have him agree to paint a picture for him. If not, that would be rather dull.

The end.

P.S. Whoever keeps stealing my eyes, stop it.

P.P.S. Seriously, stop stealing my eyes.

PPPS. STOP IT!

PPPPPPPPPPSSSSS. Right, whoever stole my body, give it back and if i find out one of your curs have eaten me. I will eat you again! This time, RAW!

PPPPPSSWTO!? Whoever invited Sir Sir, is dead to me. Sir Sir is a poopyhead and has been exiled from the realm for being a poopyhead.

Editor's note: I love cake!

Editior's note 2: MASS STRANGLINGS!? YIPPEE! Oh crap, CAT! THERE's A CAT IN HERE! KILLS IT!

Editior's note 3: Mmm, cooked cat. Also, we need a person for our Khajiti weekly section. Turns out the cat we ate was sir kitting kitty the cat the ninth. No Khajiit applications. They smell! Nenenenenenenenene.