Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

I am vulture.

I open my arms, the morning sun rises...and a shadow of my making is cast before me. Light absorber. Light as feather.
Spread, like wings, neat, like a fan, guiding with a cooling terror.
Dark, loyal, precise.

Ancient way. Survival. Upon the petrified branch, perched. Eyes pierce the distance, through heat and haze.

Scavenger. All is consumed. Bones, cleaned from flesh. Down to the marrow. Cleansing.

Navigator at dusk. Patience.
We, waiting for the perfect time to descend.

I am watcher.

Sickness throws bodies low. I raise one to breath. They learn nothing in tasting blood in mouth.

Walk among light, shadow, colors, shades. Man, woman, warrior, priest, elemental, dog.
Each grain of sand wanting to be whole desert.
Death awaiting the few in mind.

So much done unseen. Trusted truth is fair water, here.

Family not. Searching on.

I am flickering flame.

In flame I see the tempest wind, dancing upon sands. Chaos in the element. Burning.
Skyfire.
Desert.
Home.
Self.

Alight the flame. Past burns away.
A new mask, over an old mask, over a lost face.
Ashes saved so never forgotten.

I bury ashes in the corpse. Spirit dances outward, released upon the imperfect.

And so it is.