Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any recognizable and/or licensed material appearing in this work of fiction in any way, shape, and/or form. I am not attempting to or making a profit in any way, shape, and/or form from this work of fiction. All recognizable and/or licensed material belongs to their respective owners in every way, shape, and/or form to the fullest extent of the law.

AN: It's going to be a longer one (at least for me) at the end. Enjoy the story, well its really a oneshot but you get the point, right?

"Dragonborn…they seem to give such a title to anyone who has a talent for the Thu'um these days." He would have once thought the man before him was harmless if slightly bitter in old age but he knew far more now. He knew the seemingly harmless old man in front of him was nothing but danger, a raw primal instinct for danger he had once ignored now embraced by the blood of the Dovah, the carrier of the power of dragons. No, such a title was no longer accurate, he had once carried the power of dragons but that was far too long ago, his power had grown to surpass that of such creatures, he was something beyond even them now. He now wielded the power that was reserved for the gods.

"You are one to talk, you are the one that seemed to have coined the title." The Dovahkiin did not make his move, not yet, as he stood before his next foe, his next conquest in his great quest. "I would have thought you would be fond of my accomplishment my brother, you seem to have aspired for the same long ago."

"Long ago I lacked wisdom and now I only know sorrow from such a title and your mere presence only increases it." The old man leaned heavily on his staff, a mournful sigh escaping his lips as he looked over the great warrior standing before him, a mortal who could call upon seemingly limitless power to fuel his vast repertoire of magical skills not to even mention the power he held with his skill with a blade alone. "You have slayed countless Dragons and harvested their very souls for more power," another mournful sigh escaped his lips. ",what a shameful existence you have led."

"I did not seek out Dragons, I am not a cruel man." That was hardly a truth, many of the Dragons he fought had come to him in open challenge but others he had hunted had been sought on the highest mountaintops before he had challenged their pride to a test of combat. "I only defended the people of Skyrim from their fearful might." It was the truth, the first dozen or so Dragons he had slain had been in defense of the people he had once thought of as his kin, now they were merely his possessions and no one would harm what was his. "Now I come to finish what I have started, purging those no better than Miraak from this world and you will soon join all the others I have defeated in Oblivion."

"You are a fool boy, you believe you have def-"

"Silence you old trickster!" The Dragonborn drew up his staff, merely tapping the ground and it shook as if to bow before his great power, the authority he held equal to those of the gods of the land. "I am no longer willing to hear your words of poison to my ears."

"And I am no longer willing to allow such a man to corrupt this world, not again." The old man rose, becoming his true height of a giant of a man as he cast aside his grey robe, revealing a golden armor the man recognized from his time in ancient ruins.

"Ah, your armor is of Dwarven make then?" The Dovahkiin tapped the ground again, the army he had gathered throughout the later part of his journey emerging as the world seemed to darken, the forces of nature itself shaking from the mere presence of a fraction of his power. "I would not have expected such a thing from a foe so old."

"And I did not expect you to be so well versed in Necromancy, such black arts are insulting. Even now your actions bring forth only another vile storm on the land." The old man's demeanor had changed when he revealed his true appearance, his voice, once seemingly weathered by age, was as strong and commanding as those of many Dragons he encountered. "But I will weather such things to stop you and your great mischief from spreading."

"I will enjoy to see you try such a feat old man." The Dragonborn allowed his staff to seemingly whither as his army of the dead rose, numbering close to the hundreds as lightning filled one hand and ice filled the other. "I will crush you like I have crushed all my foes."

"Insolent boy." The old man did not speak any longer, he only drew the great Dwarven blade from his back, a shimmering gold and silver, and his helm settled over his head. "I will crush such insolence."

The battle began when lightning and frost came together to surge towards his foe only to be cast aside by a swing of the great Dwarven blade he wielded, tossing the power of a god away with speed that was almost surprising. If he were still just a mortal, he would applaud his foe for such grace with his weapon. It was a shame such a warrior was doomed for his arrogance to challenge a god.

I am vanquisher of the World-Eater itself.

A second great swing of the blade his foe held unleashed such power his army turned to ashes before it but they continued to charge as a mere wave of his hand gave form to the ash, shaping it into a new host to combat his foe.

I am killer of countless Dragons.

A whispered word and his army was reduced to nothing at the sheer power his foe could use with ease but it did not matter. A single thought made it so, now he held a glowing ethereal bow was in his armor clad hands, an arrow notched and it caught alit with a spectral fire that would surely destroy this annoying foe.

I am Dovahkiin!

The armor of his foe would not be pierced, no matter how swift his arrows flew or how bright they shined with his divine power, nothing mattered as it was as if they were a gentle breeze upon the golden plate of his foe. It did not stop him, he let loose another volley, his army of the dead once again arose, bowmen long deceased drawing their arms and letting their arrows fly. His foe's armor was a great thing, nearly worthy enough of being worn by a god to withstand their might, even if it was nothing but a mere drop compared to the ocean of power he could unleash at any moment.

I am the hunter of dragons!

When the bow proved truly useless it was cast aside, dissipating into nothingness once out of his hands, a powerful broadsword was created for his use, a single clash with the blade of his ancient foe proving his strength even if it was only a match for that of his foe. It did not matter, he simply chose such a way of combat to limit himself, give his foe a false hope so his destruction of the fool could be so much more satisfying.

I am the slayer of the greatest foes of Skyrim!

Their exchange was brief, one that proved nothing but was instrumental as the Dragonborn cast away his sword, instead power consumed his being, filling the air as his ancient foe did not hesitate to sheathe his sword as he dashed away with a whispered word and within moments his form was that of a specter with only the whisper of the wind giving away the presence his form.

"I AM DOVAHKIIN! I AM A GOD!" With a roar befitting that of a true Dragon, a great power ripped through space, ripping forth a creature of fire from it in servitude of the mortal who held the power of countless dragons, held the knowledge of arcane arts long thought lost, who's skills were as unmeasurable as they were varied.

"Do not think so much of yourself you infant." His foe thought himself so great to plant his sword into the ground? He thought himself so great that a single blow from his crossbow could destroy his mighty servant of fire, strengthened by the power he possessed? HA! Such a thing would be amusing!

"I shall give you as many shots as you need you fool!" The Dragonborn, with a mere wave of his hand, destroyed his army, his booming voice filled with humor. "All the while I sha-"

His foe fired, a bolt ripping free from the confines of the weapon and it was as if it was lightning, its speed beyond many things of the realm but the Dragonborn had seen far greater speeds in his journey, his servants had withstood the wrath of dragons themselves, the great breath feared across the land a mere annoyance to those under his service. Such a mundane weapon would do nothing to destroy such a creature, one summoned by a being of his power would have such an attack comparable to the buzzing of a fly.

His servant was torn apart with a single shot from the wizened old fool he should have felled long ago but chose not to out of the desire for entertainment. He would now rectify such a lapse, the foolish mortal has begun to enrage him as his arrogance has only grown. To even dare to face a god such as he...

"You foolish boy." His foe spoke as if he should be pitied! He was unstoppable! He should be the one receiving pity! He should beg on his knees for mercy from the god before him!

"Do not mock me!" The Dragonborn allowed power to fill his form, power he focused with ease into a great ball of fire akin to the sun to hang above their heads. "I am a god you old fool! DO NOT MOCK ME!"

A single gesture, a dropped hand, and a great inferno sprung forth but it did not last, his aged foe pierced his attack with a single bolt from his mighty crossbow, one cloaked in frost that found difficulty in piercing the great armor befitting of a god the Dragonborn wore. Master crafted and across it were various powerful magic of the enchantments the god had placed into the metal as he forged it into the mighty armor it would become.

"You dare!" It was difficult, not impossible for the bolt to pierce his armor, the armor befitting to be worn by a god amongst mortals.

He held the bolt in hand, his teeth bared as he let loose an animalistic snarl before he pulled it free and the wound sealed itself but the wound itself was not the problem. It was the sight of his blood, the blood of a god to be worshipped, covering the black head of the Dwarven bolt that made him scream.

"Quiet down youngling." The fool would not silence himself before the god that was before him. He would need to die for such a crime but now he would suffer for spilling his divine blood, dirtying it on the ground when even a single drop of it held more worth than the entire wealth of the land.

"You think too much of yourself old fool!"

The Dragonborn drew forth a metallic staff not natural to the world, unleashing a force of pure power, raw destruction given only a channel to travel through, on his foe to no effect, the aged warrior easily evaded the blast but was unsuspecting of the true nature of it. Skeletons ripped themselves free from the ground, Conjured Armor adorning them, Conjured Weapons arming them as the Dragonborn turned away, whispering words unknown to mortals and instead spoke those of Dragons and Dragons alone. A great rift ripped itself open, one from which emerged a horde of dark vile creatures, all under the control of the god that commanded them.

"You will know my power!" The Dragonborn wielded the staff in a single hand, his other free to wield the powerful blade crafted out of the bones of countless dragons, perhaps even more potent than the vast power of the Shouts he wielded with his use of the Thu'um. "You will suffer my wrath you old fool!"

"You will attempt it boy, but you will fail." The old man was not disturbed by the power his opponent brought forth, he seemed to only pity him much more, a single had drawing his great and massive blade from the ground, his other now holding his crossbow. "The likes of you will always fall, none of you will ever be able to hurt this land again."

I am a master of the Thu'um, the Greybeards themselves are a mere candle to my great inferno of power.

A single swing of his foe's mighty blade destroyed his horde, a power unlike any other he had encountered sweeping across the land around them as a blazing golden ray of power, enough that even a god briefly closed his eyes. Another swing destroyed the mighty and vile creatures he had brought forth from their twisted realms, a single swing destroyed creatures capable of laying siege to any fortress bar none.

I am a shaper of this land, a god given mortal flesh.

A single clash reshaped the land, the power both wielded impossible to measure, the power of a god clashing with a mortal foolish enough to challenge him and he continued to humor his foe, allow him to think he had exhausted his pool of power, that his magicka was drained.

My power is limitless, enough so that I may rewrite destiny itself.

A single blow from his sword of dragon bone knocked aside the crossbow of his foe, the power each swing released more than enough to throw away his opponent's guard even for only the briefest of moments. It was long enough for a god to unleash his power, a storm of lightning emerged from the tip of the staff, a power unlike any other bringing a harsh and blinding light to the world around them.

I have never been defeated! None of my foes have withstood my power!

The power of a blizzard emerged next, chilling the very land around them and bringing forth a layer of frost across their battleground, truly his power could not be matched as he shaped the very world to his will, in his hands were power unlike any other. None this world had seen for many a lifetimes.

I cannot fall to this mere mortal!

Another clash of blades shattered the frost around them, his old foe undisturbed by the power he wielded, his power nothing more than an irritation it seemed. Another swing of his great sword was enough to force the Dragonborn to block, banishing his staff to properly defend himself with both hands now in place on his great blade.

I have defeated those chosen by the dragons themselves, their worshippers and priests fell to my power.

Another clash of the two great weapons rocked the land, the power of those who wielded them both awe inspiring and fear inducing to any not on their level.

I WILL NOT FALL!

With a mere thought and little cost, his armor wrapped, becoming one of flesh and bone, white and black, the mighty and powerful bones of Dragons carefully harvested and carved, coming together in an armor befitting that of a god that made even their power nothing in his presence.

HE WILL DIE!

"I have humored this insane idea of yours for long enough you foolish old man! I will destroy you with a single blow from my blade!" A great two handed sword rested on his back, held in place by enchantments placed on the armor and slowly he drew it forth from his back. "I will kill you and continue my journey."

"Your journey ends here boy, I am the obstacle none have ever surpassed."

I AM G-

Only darkness greeted him in the end.

An old man tired of his duty returned to his post. Awaiting the day he would be needed again.

AN: So, story time about how this little oneshot came to be. I was always kind of curious about what the hell was actually going to stop you from going mad with power in those games, in their reality what is honestly stopping someone who can pretty much kill anything they face? What stops them from getting cocky? From calling themselves better than everyone they fought in the end? What's even stopping them from calling themselves a god? The answer, at least here, is the Old Man. Consider him a failsafe, the last line to prevent the world from being destroyed by a greater evil it never knew.

As for the fight, it probably wasn't that great but there was a reason for it, the Necromancy is pretty important to the overall belief in godhood by the Dragonborn and since its told from his perspective, I hoped it came off as someone in denial of what was in front of them in the end. He began cocksure of his victory but by the end the inevitable was clear and he was panicking, throwing his best at the Old Man and failing.

As for the Old Man, I hoped he came across as someone tired of his duty but someone willing to do what he had to in the end, not allowing the Dragonborn to run rampant and put a stop to him. Also, honesty, this comes from a YouTube video I watched, Chronicles of a Sad Story by MrRhexx and a few build videos I watched months ago.

So, this is longer than most of my other ANs so I'll leave it here. Drop a review if you like, curious about who anyone else took this.

Peace.