You were sitting in the throne room at New Sheoth. Sheogorath had been talking your ear off for the past hour about everything going on in the Shivering Isles and beyond. He even had Haskill pull up a chair for you. It was always cheese this, prank that. He'd brought up at least twenty plans to kill people in the hours he'd been monologuing at you. At least he also had Haskill bring you food as well because, "Oh, yeah, yeah, humans need cheese to live, don't they?" Finally, he leans back in his chair just as you're dozing off.

Sheogorath: "Well, that sounds like my life story just about. How about you? Disembowel any priests? Stab any bar hags? Come on, you've had to at least set a goat on fire since you were here last!" He smiles, sitting attentively in his thrown, his hands on his cane and his chin on his hands.