Gallivanting in Skyrim(Kamea)

I was once one of the beings who resided the worlds beyond comprehension.

Power was whimsical and beyond the comprehension of those who would walk the bare ground without the assistance of Holy.

And now I wander upon the planes of oblivions and the world where Dragons seek refuge among the fears of man...

But Dragons are not my qualms on a norm basis.... not entirely.

Their voice; their strength is partially mine and how I used them...

I deter the malice of men to the best of my ability. I try and shy away the aspersions my fellow men are capable of.

The atrocity of foul beasts are also my own to slay...

Dawnbreaker guides me with her fervent conviction to rid this world of evil; undead or the living.

And The Elements...

Elements are mine to maneuver; summon.

And at the end of it all.... I search for him....

The bearer of light. The Lord; my King. Somewhere in this silence, in this insipid realm in which I tread alone, he is out there. He is searching.... for me. His Eternal. His Lover. And amidst all of that I know he does the same...

Lucifer. My Bearer of Light.... And I am his Rising Sun.

Gallivanting in Skyrim (Lucifer)

I went by a myriad of names. I have seen worlds that perhaps even my own tongue, whether it be by choirs of angels or shouts of dragons can't describe....

But in this world...

The Blade of Destitution within my grasp. I walk this strange world with the prowess of my past. My blade hungers and so I feed it. Blood...

That's what it seeks....

And when my blade is of no reach...

The light is mine to mediate. It is in my power. My aim is filled with conviction.

I have no qualms obliterating those who would stand in my way. The abhorrent intentions of those who are mindless. Or perhaps those who are seeking frivolous violence.

All of my tools are weapons. All my power unsheathed even if the enemy is unworthy.

And even the gods of this land who bear their fangs at me...

They fall asunder. Every one of them will feel the venom of their own voice. They are nothing more than aesthetics for my own eyes. Feast for Muramasa.

But when the night is over, I return to my solace. The silence her symbol gives me is enough. It may not be much and she may only speak with the scintillation of the stars her symbol governs, to me, that is enough. Catharsis comes in a small gesture, but to a place filled with blood and stripped of hope... her symbol... her on the other side is enough.