Look upon the face of Boethiah and wonder. Raise your arms that Boethiah may look on them and bestow a blessing. Know that battle is just such a blessing. Know that death is inevitable. Know that you are dust in the eyes of Boethiah.
Long is the arm of Boethiah, and swift is the blade.
Deep is the cut, and subtle is the poison.
Worship, O faithful. Pray your death is short.
Worship, O faithful. Pray your death is quiet.
Worship, O faithful. Worship the glory that is Boethiah.
Into battle strides the Daedric Prince, blade at the ready to cleave the unworthy.