Tala Niwot sat up with a start. The last thing she had remembered was….

The wolf.

She had been tracking the pregnant cow for nearly three hours on her family's farm in Wyoming. She had been worried that the frost and snow last night might have killed the young calf if they hadn't been able to find shelter.

Riding on her four-wheeler through the steep rocky trails of the back forty acres her family used to graze the herd, she had heard the panicked cries of the newborn calf and the angry bellows of the mother protecting her offspring. Coming over the hill, she had seen the mother attempting to defend her young from the half-dozen or so wolves that surrounded them. The blood on the snow showed that she had been successful so far, but the fight was too unequal to last long.

No time to think.

Tala reached back, pulling her .30-06 lever-action rifle from its sling on the side of the wheeler. She fired once into the air, shouting loudly, revving the engine at the same time. The late snows had driven the wolf packs to hunger and desperation, because they didn't even flinch at the sound of the gunshot.

Plan B, then.

She revved the engine a second time, this time shifting into drive, sending the four-wheeler down the ravine side and towards the battle below.

Too steep.

Too fast.

The vehicle had overturned, sending her (and her rifle) head-over-heels over the handlebars. She had vaguely sensed more than felt the pressure of the four-wheeler as it rolled over her, coming to rest on its side once the world stopped spinning around her. Her vision was red, and she found that she didn't have the use of her right leg.

Or the left one, come to think of it.

Looking about frantically, she found what she was looking for: the rifle lay between two large rocks, about fifteen feet away from her. The wooden stock was broken… but the rest of it looked functional.

That's when had heard the growl… and felt the fangs of the massive timber wolf….


Everything was white around her. She looked around, trying to get her bearings.

A snow-storm, perhaps?

Looking down, she saw that her legs were no longer bent at the odd angles they had been in the crash.

What the hell?

"Long have you dreamed the dreamless sleep of death, Potema. No longer. Hear our call and awaken. We summon you!"

Who the hell is talking? What the hell is he talking about? Who the hell is…



Elder Scrolls, Potema?


She felt a figure pass her on the right, heading towards the giant light that she only now realized was the source of the blinding white glare around her.

"Yes, YES! Return me to this realm!"

This is a dream.

I'm dreaming about Elder Scrolls: Skyrim.

Tala had played the games… probably too much, if her grades were any indication. But she had loved the lore of Elder Scrolls, playing the games ever since Morrowind had come out.

"Wait!" she called out after the phantasm. "It's a TRAP!"

She rose, taking the fact that her legs were working as further evidence of the dream-state. She ran after the woman, trying to catch up to her.

To warn her…


Cords of light came from the orb, wrapping themselves around the wrists of the ghostly figure of the robed woman.

"What? What are you doing?"

Have to save her.


Why am I trying so hard to save Potema, the crazy Wolf-Queen of Solitude?

Why not? This is a dream, right?

Anyways, if she escapes the afterlife, she tries to resurrect the draugr underneath Solitude….


"You ants don't have the power to bind ME!"

Oh, I think they do, bitch.

Tala reached out a hand, grabbing the woman's shoulder to try and pull her back.


A burning, fiery pain shot through her arm, spreading across her entire body. She tried to pull back, but found she couldn't let go of the Wolf Queen's body. The pair of them continued to be pulled forward.

"No! I will not be bound like some slave… What the daedra?" Potema asked, upon feeling the newfound resistance holding her back.

"NO!" shouted a third voice. A different voice.

Who was that?

Suddenly the clashing of metal upon metal could be heard, along with something that sounded like bones grinding together. Then suddenly there was a terrible, horrific NOISE:


The cords attached to Potema's wrists were severed, but the forward motion had turned into a free-fall. Potema, Tala still firmly attached at her shoulder, fell forward into the orb, bringing everything into a burning, searing whiteness.

Author's Note:

Hello everyone,

Just a thought that sparked in my head while I was working on my other Mass-Effect Fanfic (isn't that always how it happens?). Thought I'd jot it down and see what you guys think. I probably won't be updating it regularly (want to finish my other story first), but right now tons of Skyrim ideas are running through by brain. I've always loved Skyrim and the Elder Scrolls lore, and have been wanting to write my own SI/OC.

Disclaimer: I have NO intention of Mary-Sue-ing my way through Tamriel. Nor do I intend my SI/OC to be an omnicient OP. But I will need you guys' help, to let me know if I'm slipping into the "OP" realm.

A short intro, I know, but please review and let me know what you guys think so far!