My first story, sorry if it is rushed in places, character development and all. No, she is not the dragonborn. If the lore is wrong, please help me fix it, I try my best. Enjoy! And I post with or without reviews! This is merely an entertainment for me, so literary criticism has no effect whatsoever.

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Siofra sat quite still, letting the shadows hide her, though, why bother? She was in a cellar. The Vigilants of Stendarr thundered about outside, and she could hear Anise speaking to them, yelling for them to go away and leave an old woman in peace.

A deep voice grumbled from above, "Shut up you old hag! You can't possibly live alone! Where is the girl?"

'Ah, they really are looking for me,' Siofra thought with a sigh, 'You talk about Daedra one to many times and they find you.'

Of course they would follow her, but thank Nocturnal she was an expert sneak. Siofra laughed to herself and listened as the footsteps receded from the cabin. A few minutes later Anise opened the trapdoor and called down to her.

"Get up here and tell me why I have Stendarr's hounds in my face." She growled. She wasn't really angry, she enjoyed having an able bodied apprentice around, and the girl could possibly be part of her coven...if her damn sister and Helgi ever showed up!

"I was merely searching for a Daedra heart; my old dagger broke." Siofra pouted, working her charm. Anise grumbled something about "pig children" and returned upstairs. Siofra grinned, her little cover story always worked with Anise, not that the old witch didn't know what Siofra did.

A devout Daedra worshipper, the only divine she followed was Dibella, but she didn't practice the Dibellan Arts. No, no, sweet virgin that Siofra was, she was searching for a way to please her lord: Hermaeus Mora.

Siofra stood up, stretched, and clambered up the ladder to the world above. Emerging in Anise's very open cabin, she replaced the door, moving baskets over the entrance. 'No wonder the Vigalants never find anyone, they can't even do a proper search!' Anise was down at the river, a quill in her hand as she composed her third letter this week.

"Siofra, child, run this to Moira, to Witchmist; I am going to Helgan to reason with Helgi." Anise handed Siofra the letter and shooed her away, staring out at the mountains. Siofra walked back to the cabin then turned and followed Anise's gaze across the river. From here, the Jerall mountains bordering Skyrim and Cyrodiil were small and blue, covered in snow and...Siofra stopped thinking, her breath catching. For a brief moment she had seen something, something huge and black fly to the east of where Helgan sat.

Anise turned to Siofra and frowned.

"Second time this month it's appeared...quickly child, to Witchmist!"

Siofra ran to the cabin and haphazardly threw items into her bag: potions, poisons, two steel daggers, an extra set of clothes, her coin purse... That should be all. Running now, she strapped her old hunting bow to her back, had one steel dagger out, and quickly found the path that would take her past Riverwood.

Reaching the bridge by Riverwood, Siofra realized she had forgotten food. 'Stupid girl' she spat to herself, 'oh well, I'll be going by way of Whiterun, it's faster and I won't meet up with that...thing in the Jerall's...' Shifting her bag on her shoulder, Siofra walked on.

/./././././././././././././././

Siofra reached Whiterun late that evening; the usually short trek made longer by wolves, an unlucky frostbite spider, and the two Vigilants of Stendarr, who, after recognizing Siofra, had been put out of their misery by two fireballs to the face each, then a dagger in the back. Siofra smiled as she thought of the new Mage robes she had to sell. At Whiterun, she had slipped into the Bannered Mare and bought provisions, but not a room. Siofra never stayed in inns if she could help it, too many watchful eyes. After provisions, she unloaded the mages robes and a few rubies she had found with the Vigilants as well, to Belathor. As the sun had set, she walked to the Gildergreen, and sat under its leaves, listening to the old priest yell about Talos.

A little girl walked up to her and stood there silently. Siofra, without saying anything, pulled out several gold pieces and handed them to the girl.

"Oh thank you!" She squealed and ran off. Siofra stood up slowly and returned to Belathor's shop.

"Back already? What do you need, I'm closing". He mumbled. Siofra stared at him for a moment then pulled out her purse.

"What do you have in the way of animal pelts?" She asked. Every time she went to a city, Siofra realized how much she hated people, but only adults, kids were okay. And the people of Falkreath, they were fine.

Belathor pulled up the animal pelts, letting them spill out onto the counter. Siofra pulled out saber cat, cow, horse, and goat pelts, ready to pay when something small and brown fell to the ground. She leaned down and picked the object up; a doll, little bows in it's hair and a stitched smile. Still holding the doll, Siofra handed the money to Belethor and left, searching around Whiterun. An hour later, she found herself behind the Bannered Mare, looking down at a sleeping girl, the same from the square.

Siofra nudged the little girl with her foot, startling the child awake.

"Oh, it's you!" The child exclaimed.

"I brought you some furs...and a doll..."

"Lucia, I'm Lucia."

Siofra laid the furs and the horse skin out as a cushion. The child was busy playing with the doll, but when Siofra was done, Lucia snuggled up under the furs.

"Thank you, no one had ever given me this much." Lucia smiled and curled up around the doll, quickly falling back asleep. Siofra just stared lay down, wrapping herself up and sleeping.

/././././././././././././

The thief moved slowly around Whiterun, desperate for something to sell. There had been a guard watching all the shops and the thief had decided against getting arrested. Tiptoeing to the back of the Inn, the thief was startled to find two sleeping figures, one a child, the other hardly a teenager.

Laughing to himself, the thief crept forward and began to reach into the teen's pocket. In the moonlight, the thief only glimpsed the flash of the teen's eyes opening before he was pushed over.

"What's going on?" The little girl cried.

"A thief." The older girl growled, holding a dagger to the thief's throat.

"Please don't kill me!" He gasped, pushing the girl off and scrambling away.

"Look away, Lucia." Siofra growled. Lucia closed her eyes and plugged her ears. Siofra turned to the thief's receding back and threw her dagger. A flash in the night, a yell, and a thud as a body hit the ground. The guard in the square races over and grabbed Siofra's arm.

"You just killed a man!" He shouted. Siofra glared coldly at him and spat back.

"He was a thief, trying to pickpocket me. Check his pockets."

The guard held onto her for a moment, then reluctantly released her arm and shifted through the thief's pockets.

"You're right, this is a candlestick from Warmaiden's, went missing a day ago..." The guard trailed of, taking the confiscated goods with him. Siofra stood there, forgotten, then searched the thief for anything else. It was slim pickings: a single ruby, a few lockpicks, and a silver ring. Siofra shrugged, took it all and pulled her dagger out of the man's back and returned to comfort Lucia.

/././././././././

Midday the next day found Siofra, high above Valthiem Towers, arrow trained on the back of a bandit. With a slight breath in she steadied her aim and released the string. The arrow hit its mark with a thwack, the bandit collapsing, dead. Others took notice and began to race towards their fallen sister. Siofra took their distraction and crept through the woods past the towers.

'Why pay a toll?' Siofra smirked. The caldera area in Eastmarch was her favorite place, and killing was a wonderful start to her trip.

Outside the shack at Witchmist, Siofra was stopped by one of Moira's witches, who was quickly subdued by Moira herself.

"Oh, it's you. Anise still trying to make a coven?" Siofra didn't answer for a second, taking in Moira, whom last time she had seen, was an old woman like her sister Anise. Now, Moira stood hunched and feathered, a hagraven. Filthy beasts; last time Siofra had seen one was when she was very young, in the Reach...

"Yes, though she might reconsider location when she hears about your new look." Moira just snapped her teeth together and waved Siofra away.

"Just go you little pestilence. I know what you really are, and why you let my sister boss you around is beyond me." Siofra stood still for a moment before calling flames to her hands and shooting the fire at the hut.

"Anise offers me valuable information, you on the other hand...do not." Siofra advanced on the hagraven, blasting her magic at the witch when she tried to retaliated against Siofra.

"Stop! Stop! Fine! Information, I'll give you information! Dawnstar, strange things are happening in Dawnstar!" Moira shielded her face, not even bothering to fight. Siofra stopped the fire and walked away, letting the hagraven sort out the fire.

/./././././././

The trip to Dawnstar took three days, sneaking around giants and bandits. Dawnstar emerged from the blizzard that seemed to constantly surrounded it. Siofra stomped into Windpeak Inn, hungry and irritable. It was around midnight, just the innkeeper, Thoring, up and some little boy. Siofra took one look at the boy and gave him the pile of saber cat pelts she had collected.

"What do you want?" Thoring mumbled when she walked up to the bar.

"Food, bed, gossip." Siofra snapped. Much later, after eating a feast fit for a Jarl, Siofra bought a room and passed out. She was...regrettably woken by someone preaching Mara. Groggily, she sought out the source of the offensive words and found it. A Dunmer priest stood by the bar, comforting some people who were complaining about nightmares.

"If we trust in Mara all will be fine."

"Erandur, this is only getting worse, we need action!" Thoring yelled. Siofra rolled her eyes and walked up to the man.

"Is there a problem?"

"Dawnstar has been plauged by nightmares recently; you are a traveller, it wouldn't affect you." Erandur replied, dismissing her. Of course, he, like the thief, only saw a young woman, hardly a fighter.

"I can help you." Siofra said, crossing her arms and glaring. Erandur paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Fine, should we leave now or will you need to get ready?" Siofra narrowed her eyes and pushed past him.

/./././././././././././././././././

"We are almost to the Skull..." Erandur announced. He and Siofra had travelled up the mountain behind Dawnstar and into Nightcaller Temple. Once inside, he had revealed that a cult of Vaermina, the Daedric Prince of nightmares, had occupied the place. Orc invaders had attacked and the cultists had released a miasma, putting all inside to sleep. Siofra, visibly empowered by finally having a Daedric artifact within her grasp, dragged every bit of information she could from Erandur.

"You worship Vaermina, don't you, child?" Erandur had finally said. They had found the Dreamstride, (which Siofra planned to keep one way or another) and Siofra had drank the torpor, opening their way deeper into the temple.

"Not just her, but them all." She responded, drinking a magicka potion. She had had a few close calls; Orcs were strong and overpowered her with ease. Her old steel dagger was not enough and she had foraged a new Orcish dagger from a corpse. Testing the swing on her new blade, she looked at Erandur as she answered. "I grew up worshipping them."

"The Divines will serve you better." Erandur muttered. Siofra walked past him, opening the final door. A large room awaited them, and at the end, on it's pedestal, was the Skull of Corruption.

"There it is!" Siofra gasped. Before she could make a move towards it, one man and one mer appeared.

"Veran, Thorek; you're alive!" Erandur exclaimed, taking a step towards them.

"No thanks to you, Casimr, you left us for dead!" One of them growled, the mer, drawing his mace.

"I was scared to sleep, Valen!" Erandur cried in defense.

"Enough! We will end you!" Valen cried and lashed at Erandur. Thorek, a Nord, raced at Siofra, hacking at her with a fire-enchanted steel sword. Siofra dodged, falling back against a wall. Thorek swung at her but she blocked with her dagger and bracer. A sharp pain went through Siofra's arm as the sword cut through the leather bracer and into her wrist. Thorek pushed harder, cutting deeper.

"Ahh!" Siofra gasped, then took a kick between Thorek's legs. The Nord went down, holding his man bits. A swift slash to the neck left Thorek's life leaking onto the floor. A cry from across the room alerted her of Erandur's situation. Valen was shooting copious amounts of lighting at his former brother, who in turn was basting fire. Siofra, arm still bleeding steadily, pulled her bow off her back and notched an arrow.

"Erandur! Keep him still!" She shouted. Valen turned, shooting a lightning bolt, which caught Siofra in the chest. Heart skipping beats, head spinning, Siofra took a wild shot, catching Valen in the stomach. Valen staggered back, out of breath, and was promptly brained by Erander's mace.

"Are you alright?" He asked, breathing hard and trying to not look at his old friends' bodies. Siofra nodded and drank a health potion, hoping to restore some lost blood. "I am going to start the rites of Mara to destroy the Skull."

Siofra watched him ascend the pedestal, anger flaring up. How dare he turn his back on Lady Vaermina!

"He's deceiving you. When the ritual's complete, the Skull will be free and then Erandur will turn on you. Quickly! Kill him now. Kill him and claim the Skull for your own! Vaermina commands you!"

Siofra gasped, the sensation of having a Daedric Prince in her head overwhelming.

"Oh get on with it! You're wasting time!" Vaermina mentally shouted. Siofra walked silently to Erandur and held her dagger to his neck.

"What is this!?" He yelled.

"How dare you betray Lady Vaermina!" Siofra whispered and slit his throat.

"Very good, my brothers and sisters will be pleased with you. Go on, take the Skull." As the voice faded, Siofra grasped the staff and took it.

/././././././././

Outside, Siofra took a deep breath and exhaled happily. The Dreamstride was stowed away in her bag, and the Skull of Corruption was held tightly in her hand. Morning had broken, and in the firey rays, she determined where to go next. Logically, she might want to go home and lock up her prizes, but an old self-promise nagged at her. Winterhold was calling.