How would you react if the fate of the world rested on your shoulders? If you woke up, not knowing where you were, or who the people were around you, how would you feel?
This is exactly what Zinnia Zar'gosh is going through. Being born with dragon blood isn't always easy. Since the beginning of time, dragons ruled the land. There were ice dragons, fire dragons, elder dragons, regular dragons, but Alduin was the worst. There was only one of his kind: him. For years Alduin had terrorised towns, burning them to nothing but ashes. The people of Antrim had to rebuild their towns hourly. Until a group of men and women whom called themselves the Dragonborns came to save the people. The Dragonborns were filled with dragon blood, they could speak the Dragon language, read dragon language, and learn powerful spells called shouts. Shouts were the Dragonborns holy weapon. They used shouts to kill the dragons, or bring them upon land. One special shout called Dragonrend, had the limitless ability to bring a dragon to land, to refuse the use of wings. This was how the first Dragonborns destroyed Alduin, but instead of killing him, they sent him to his own Savangarde. The last of the Dragonborns died in battle, but their spirit remains in Savangarde, the true one.
But Zinnia isn't sure she wants to be a goddess, a dragon slaying goddess, because there's so many opportunities in Skyrim. An assassination group called the Dark Brotherhood, A thieves guild, and colledges for the practices of magic and music.
What will she do?
Femke, a Nordic-Bosmeri woman, has come to Riften to start over. She thought she was ready for adventuring in the big, wide world outside of her meager home in the mining colony of Dawnstar. She couldn't have been more wrong. After several mishaps and roadblocks, she stumbles to Riften, footsore, hungry, and with no money to her name, in hopes of finding some good, honest work. But no one seems to trust her because she has elven blood. Turned away and alone, she is found by two members of a mysterious organization operating within Riften. One, a Nordic man called Brynjolf, takes pity on the poor human-elf and offers her a job, and if she does well, a spot within the "Guild," as he puts it.
NOTE: If I owned Skyrim, I would have no need for writing fanfictions just for the heck of it. I only own Femke and my original dialogue. Everything else is credited to Bethesda Game Studios.