Gentlemen, ladies and those of the furred or scaled persuasions,

I am writing to you today in order to alert you an alarming occurance. Tythis Andromo, my Banking Assisant has gone quite mad.

I recently received a letter from this Dunmer loon which advised me that he has "retired" from my service and retreated to his countryside manor in Deshaan. I mean Deeshan of all the places, for heavens sake. Now before you begin admonishing me for the reckless act of employing a Dunmer in personal service, I should tell you that the labor market has been extremely limited for some time. Indeed this fellow was the only qualified applicant for the post who had references.

In any case, after I checked my financial records, it seems that this blighter has helped himself to the bulk of my funds and purchased a country manor for himself somewhere in Deshaan. Needless to say, I flew into a rage. However, before I could beat any servants at all, Nuzhimeh my mercantile agent, who it must be said is a level-headed wench even if she is a Redguard, managed to calm me with the news that she had received a dinner invitation from Tythis. She advised me that she would find out what was going on and attempt to recover the funds with as little fuss as possible. I informed her that if fuss was needed that I had whole armoire full of very fussy staves.

Eventually I agreed to Nuzimeh's plan, thinking that dinner posed little risk of danger. After all, Tythis was a weedy little fellow, not the violent type and certainly dinner with him would be nothing like those feasts thrown by the vile Bosmer. The following evening Nuzhimeh departed for dinner, but inexplicably failed to return!

I began to fear the worse, but before I could select a suitable pair of staves to deal with this mess, Pirharri, one of my senior employees in Acquisitions and Disposals advised me that some expert reconnaissance would be necessary before assaulting a walled estate. She assured me she would return with the dawn and details of what the blackguard Tythis was up to. I agreed to the plan and returned to the highly demanding work of exploiting the unsophisticated citizens of Vvardenfell.

I awoke at my desk well after dawn. Pirharri was nowhere to be found, apparently another victim of the blue-beard Tythis! I immediately selected my favorite staves from my armoire, packed a traveling bag, washed and trimmed my beard, sat down to a four-course breakfast served on the balcony, had a nap in the sun to aid my digestion, and then hastily left my villa to make the long and arduous journey to disgusting Deshaan.

I arrived just as the sun was setting, and found the gate to the manor's grounds ajar and an eeire fog spilling out over the cobblestones. I checked the charge on my staves and quietly slipped though the gate. Gentlemen, ladies, and others, what follows below is a record of the vile depravity that I uncovered at the manor of the truly psychotic Tythis, as best as I can recollect. However, I doubt even my own memories at the moment, since I seem only to be able to recall the events in rhyming couplets!

It is my gravest warning to you all: if you value your own sanity, do not approach this crazed manor under any circumstance. I fear the best course of action would be to burn the entire place to the ground, and liberally salt the ruins. Indeed, it is probably wise to extend this to the entirety of Deshaan. I advise you all to closely monitor your own assistants. At the first sign of any unusual behavior, lock your coffers and dismiss the offending employee without references, at once. It is my fervent hope that you all avoid the loss I suffered at the hands of my defective Banking Assistant.

[This is a guided tour of Tythis' Madhouse of Terror (by @researchmonkey). If you wish to tour the house yourself you can access it by visiting the Quondam Indorilia residence of @researchmonkey (set during the Halloween period) via friends list or guild roster (Scheming Skeevers Imports, Iron Bank of Bravos, or Elder Scrolls Exchange) or by imposing on someone on those rosters to port you in on the PC NA server. Since the Halloween house is no longer marked as my primary residence, please use the add-on "Port to Friends House" to port to any of my houses. (Yes, it let's you port to any house a player owns, not just their primary residence.)

To enhance your experience I suggest you put on your favorite party frock, unequip your weapons, Quickslot any undead type polymorph, and put Magelight on your Ability bar in case some areas are too dark for your graphics settings. It should be clear when to activate your polymorph. If you don't have an undead polymorph available, then OH DEAR! I'm sure everything will be OK, though. No need to worry. No, not at all. If you don't want to spoil any fun at all, I also suggest that when you first load into the house that you close your eyes for 10-15 secs to allow the game to render all the items completely, as they do appear in an odd order, ruining the line of sight setups.

Here are a few many stanzas to enhance alleviate the fun. The start of each section in the house is denoted by a Witch Curse Marker (a rough wooden X with skulls on it and a cloud of green fog at the base).

I'd like to thank @Finnisterre for the help in proofing both the house and the text. Thank you]



WELCOME TO THE MADHOUSE

Through the gate,
the path is blocked.
By stonemason's frenzy,
all progress stopped.

A witch curse marker
warns you away.
But morbid curiosity
dares you to stay.


UNRULY PUMPKINS

Witch's totem,
marks the start.
The journey not
for faint of heart.

Off to the well,
you must go.
Just mind the vines,
or you'll slow.

Screaming pumpkins
try to scare.
Will you advance,
do you dare?

What's this I see,
in the well?
The dead return,
from depths of hell!

So scream and run,
for you must flee.
But which way's out?
Just head for the tree.

Here's the clue,
if you require.
Find the dead deer,
if escape you desire.


CHOP AND DROP

Witch curse marker,
stops you dead.
But up the ramp,
look who's ahead.

The villain is here,
Tythis himself.
That's the ***,
who stole my wealth.

"Relax!" he cries,
"come sit and rest".
"Let me explain,
it'll be for the best".

"Lie back, breathe deep,
and rest your soul".
"Your money is safe,
'twas not I that stole".

"I have a scheme,
to recover your wealth".
"But we shall need,
a special kind of stealth".

"While I explain,
Let me measure your head".
"This machine you see,
cleaves living from dead".

"A flick of the switch,
one little chop".
"You are now ready,
for the big drop".

"Where you must go,
the living don't tread".
"Not really a problem,
now you are dead".

"Into the cart,
and back on the path".
"You'll find your wealth,
by kitchen's hearth".


GRAVE TALES

Witch curse marker,
halts you again.
Here you'll witness,
punishment's pain.

Look straight ahead,
up on the hill.
This fate 'waits,
the weak of will.

Three crosses you see,
a reminder of sin.
The remains to be collected,
by next of kin.

Look to the right,
amongst the spikes.
That's DPS-Queues-As-Tank,
in one of his fights.

That foolish pug,
used random queue,
In Elden Hollow,
Bogdan did chew.

Look to the left,
who do we now see?
That's Tastes-Like-Fish,
skewered to a tree.

A perverted Argonian,
who desired only fish.
Outraged fishmongers
ended that wish.

Look down in the mud,
sprawled in the mire.
That's Too-Many-Debts,
Whose luck was most dire.

This Orc liked to gamble,
but skill was his lack.
Eventually he folded,
with knife in his back.

Look left once again,
on path near the tree.
Hangs Speaks-Badly-Of-Others,
never to be free.

Put in his cage,
and hung up to rot.
This bad-mouthing egotist,
deserves what he got.

Look up the path,
see the funeral pyre.
Poor Pokes-Her-Nose-In,
incurred villagers' ire.

Tied to a post,
and burnt to a crisp.
This is what you get,
for being a witch.

There on the stairs,
next to the door.
Lies Chases-The-Sphere,
prone on the floor.

This skooma-addled Khajiit,
has ended up dead.
He failed to see,
cleaver to the head.

Let's leave our victims,
and enter the house.
Best to go careful,
be quiet as a mouse.


WELCOME TO THE SHOW

Witch curse marker,
makes you pause.
Hear that noise,
what's the cause?

There's the band,
called Simply Dead.
playing to appease,
the giant stone head.

Join the fun,
Invade the stage.
Blow the horn,
watch them rave.

Perhaps a drink?
It's only a hunch.
But at a guess,
probably not punch!


DINNER IS SERVED

Witch curse marker,
there on the left,
Time for dinner,
hope you're all dressed.

What's this madness,
seen from the door.
Banquet on ceiling,
not on the floor!

You'll stay hungry,
that is the curse.
This mad feast
is truly perverse.


DAMNATION WITHOUT RELIEF

Witch curse marker,
with horrid smell.
Marks worst toilet,
in all Tamriel!

No water in basin,
but mushrooms on floor.
Look at the cubicles,
not a single door.

No towel for hands,
no paper in stalls.
What's in those vents,
high on the walls?

Best not to sit,
on convenient holes.
For reptiles await,
in toilet bowls.

Oh terror unending
my visit is brief.
It's eternal damnation,
without relief!


DID YOU STUDY?

Witch curse marker,
At top of stair.
What madness here,
has made its lair?

What's that sound,
is it the bell?
Time for school,
in Class From Hell!

Take your seat,
you're late once more.
A surprise exam,
the pupils' chore.

Classroom's master,
cane in hand.
Looks to you,
and answers demands.

Hangs the hourglass,
its sands are frozen.
For endless exam,
you are chosen.

Where's your quill,
and your ink?
Why are you naked?
FLEE, don't think!


IT'S THE PRINCIPAL OF IT!

Witch curse marker,
Across the hall.
Past punishment box,
do not stall.

To see the Principal,
you are sent.
with long bamboo cane,
his anger to vent.

But what's this now?
Take a good look.
Poor bibliophile,
flattened by books.

With principal crushed,
off we now go.
To find the architect,
of this mad show.


SOUL FOOD

Witch curse marker,
at bottom of stair.
See the food,
they do prepare.

Fountain of blood,
served like wine.
Sack of offal,
on which to dine.

Nuzhimeh on spit,
writhing in pain.
Pirharri in cage,
hung up like game.

Grinding skulls,
to make bone meal.
Carving Argonian,
with butcher's steel.

In hell's kitchen,
it is said.
Bodies of living,
feed the dead.


THE HEART MADNESS

Beyond the hearth,
I see the true cause.
Mad Sheogorath stands,
as if awaiting applause.

"Return my wealth",
I screamed at him.
"I haven't time,
for your foolish whim".

His face lit up,
with maniacal glee.
And Mad God's smile,
rained down on me.

"Pompous Altmer,
I don't want your gold".
"The point you see,
was tale be told".

"Now it's complete,
collect your wealth.
It's only a shame,
You haven't your health".

I grabbed my coin,
and departed in haste.
Back to my villa,
not a moment to waste.

This tale is done,
my bones are weary.
So ends a night,
truly most eerie..

Take care my friends,
to avoid that place.
A hell of thing
is Sheogorath's grace.