His skin was brown, however light, as he spent most of his time covered in armor. His sword was a blood red claymore, strapped to his back when it wasn't impaling a weaker soul, or in his hands as he broke down walls, gates, even dragons. His eyes were the color of honey, no softer than his muscled body. He had hair darker than his skin, which had started to grow rather long through his adventures away from his cheating wife.

This is the story of a man named Cassius Caesar and his story through the pits of Hell.

It began with dragons.

Not a man to be taken down easily, Cassius had killed the first dragonborn, destroyed the strongest vampire hunters, single-handedly changed the tides of war, and climbed the rank of a mercenary guild, before slaying the World Eater.

However, the dragons did not celebrate him.

They recognized his murderous spirit, and knew his soul would never settle. He would destroy the world himself when he got bored, and the dragons would not have it. They would not let a tyrant who'd kill his own people rule. As Cassius emerged from the rift, he walked eloquently to the peak of the Throat of the World. Upon reaching the top, he raised his sword, bloodied by Alduin, and gave a fierce shout to the sky.

As he called forth a storm, the dragons circled.

Shouting to them in dragon's tongue, he felt triumphant. But, moments later, the dragons would unhinge their jaws as they let loose a hellfire from their maws, sending the Slayer of Men, to the land of the damned.