AN:
I don't own the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. That honour goes to Bethesda Softworks. I'm just playing around in their sandbox with words
Opinions of the characters don't necessary correspondent with my own
4E201 13th of Rain's Hand
On the road North-East of Karthwasten
This whole day has gone to Oblivion. No, not the day. More like several days. I was supposed to arrive in Markarth today. But the climate of Skyrim is as varied and temperamental as the inhabitants.
I'm currently surrounded by the Forsworn, the local version of goblins. They look like humans, Bretons as their resistance to Magicka proves. But their behaviour is like the small vermin from the Imperial lands. Their jagged weapons and painted bodies remind me of them. Eyes brimming with bloodlust stare at me as they measure me for the use in their barbaric rites and recipes. My situation is like Forsworn cooking. More raw than well done and smelly as Hircine's ass.
How did I get myself in this mess? To answer that, we will have to go to the past.
My name is Ferdinus Platorius. I was born 44 years ago during a rainy day as the seventh son of an average farming family in the village of Feghoot. My childhood started as a simple one. Working on the farm and playing with the local kids in the nearby woods. Once per month, a trader from the town of Rivercrest visited the village. Said town would be the stage of many strange happenings in future and involved, among several people, my cousin Gaius Platorius. However, that is his story to tell.
At the age of seven, my knack for Magic was discovered. Especially the kind of Magic that helped me finding lost things. Recognising my talents and seeing how my elder siblings survived long enough to inherit the farm in the future, my parents tried to get me a spot at the prestigious Arcane University in the Imperial City. I expected a fancy place and fancy people.
I was both right and wrong.
It was a wolves eats wolves world. The beauty of the buildings hid the greed and envy of the people that roamed among the walls. Lies and betrayal were the order of the day. A student might make a discovery, only to have it snatched away by someone else who took the credit.
It was in this environment that I learned to look between the lines and trough the lies. I made alliances and enemies both inside and outside the university.
No longer was I the wide-eyed farmer boy who looked at everything in wonder. Instead I was a shrewd young mage who seemed to fade in the background. But I had services to offer. Services that enabled the many connections that assisted in my work. Whether it was finding lost/stolen items or dirt on someone, for the right prize, I was your man.
But everything changed when the Dominion attacked.
Many mages enlisted in the army to defend the Empire. I dealt with the situation in my own way. Under the false identity of Reginald Bretnor, I became a player in the underground rebellion. With my connections and the shaggy dog Grendel, the invading elves were thwarted in their many attempts in taking over Cyrodiil.
Good things won't last forever and with regret in my heart, I couldn't stop them for taking over the Imperial City. We may had the home advance, but seeing people and places go up in flames does something to the mind.
The less said about the Great War, the better.
I don't want another visit from Vearmina and sink in the swamp of visions of goblins and monstrous elves doing unthinkable deeds.
The least I would add to my life story was that both Reginald and Grendel died when the White-Gold Concordat got signed.
That day, I left Cyrodill to build up a new life. My choice went to Skyrim. A harsh land with harsh people. I settled myself in the city whose name reflects myself.
Solitude.
A city that looks beautiful but hides an ugly history.
It fits me like a well-made gauntlet.
In this city, I made my new life that combines my many experiences.
My name is Ferdinus Platorius. And I'm a Private Mage.