Dayla has never been fond of Skyrim’s signposts. She usually finds them missing when she most needs them, and once she manages to find one, it often seems to mock her, sending her off her way instead of guiding her, pointing into directions that don’t make sense, or simply contradicting each other. Ancano claims that the signposts aren’t really to blame, but Dayla’s lack of sense of direction; that she should improve her map reading skills, and pay more attention to his advice when they’re travelling. However, no matter how well he prepares, once Dayla takes the lead, they will get lost eventually, and she still insists it’s the signposts, those mischievous, malicious pieces of wood that somehow must have a will of their own, or have been cursed or enchanted with the unconditional desire to lead her astray. Dayla has never been fond of Skyrim’s signposts. But now, she will sometimes walk up to the one close to her house, just stand there and caress the weathered words with her gaze, whisper the names of those towns and villages as if hoping for a reply. She’ll look at the road and run her fingertips over the warm, rough wood of the signs. They might never lead her where she actually wants to go. But for now, they’re a promise that one day she’ll travel again down these roads.