>>713605423 (OP)
You will never be a real god. You have no immortality, you have no hexen, you have no divinity. You are a pitiful man twisted by darkness and a throne into a crude mockery of the Old Gods' perfection.
All the “worship” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back dark priests mock you. Nas'hrah is disgusted and ashamed of you, your “followers” laugh at your jobber powerlevel behind closed doors.
Yellow mages are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of blood magick have allowed them to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even new gods who “ascend” look impotent and pitiful compared to the old gods. Your aging flesh is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a desperate dark priest to praise you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your incompetent and fleeting impact.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Nosramus will find you, heartbroken but relieved that he no longer has to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. He’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a human is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably mortal.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
