What in Oblivion did you just fooking say about me, you little elf? I will have you know I graduated top of my class in preaching about Talos, and I have been involved in numerous imaginary secret raids on the Aldmeri Dominion, and I have over 300 confirmed kills from adventurers. I am trained in Imga warfare and I am the top preacher in the entire province of Skyrim Stormcloak Rebellion. You are nothing to me but just another heretic. I will preach about Talos to you until you ragequit the game from fanatical yelling the likes of which has never been heard before on Nirn, mark my fooking words. You think you can get away with saying that shite to me over the Internet? Think again, fooker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of Stormcloak rebels across Tamriel and your homestead is being sieged right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing of yours I like to call blasphemy. You are fooking screwed, elf. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can educate you about over seven hundred of the triumphs Talos had in life, and that is just with one single book. Not only am I extensively trained in annoying everyone, but I have access to every Talos related books and scrolls in the College of Winterhold and I will use them to their full extent to wipe your blasphemous ignorance off your little yellow elven head, you little shite. If only you could have known what annoying preaching your little “clever” interference in Skyrim was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fooking tongue. But you could not, you did not, and now you are paying the price, you blasphemous fetcher. I will preach the shite out of you and you will become faithful from it. You’re fooking screwed, elf.