Morten: a "The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim" fanfiction (WIP)

This story takes us a bit into years that we are not used to. Most of it is happening in the mid-to-late 4E 200s (~203-210).

It will take us to a country which we have been enjoying for over a decade now. We will meet people we already knew, and also people who will be new to us. And maybe, of the ones we knew, we will have different opinions. Maybe the years changed them, maybe they acted differently to our Dragonborns. The civil war is not over, and the various guilds of Skyrim have not changed much in the past few decades.

Skyrim, however, is still a place that attracts. It just attracts. Attracts trouble, opportunity, heroes, villains, bandits, adventurers. In the first years of the first decade of the third century of the fourth era, law was weak in Skyrim. In the various Holds of the land, rule of law was mostly confined to the towns. What little centralized power there was, was focused on the seemingly unending civil war, and the soldiers and officers of whichever side had little time to care for the civillians of the land they were fighting over. If that was not bad enough, then, the Dragon Crisis happened, and the guards were killed by the dozens; at least the ones who had honor. There were plenty who preferred to run away to the hills and join with brigands, and prey on the same people they once swore to protect. This state of Skyrim is also known in Cyrodiil, in the Imperial City, where the temples of all the Divines are still filled with orphans, some from the Great War, yet most from a variety of countless reasons. The Temple of Mara, for example, cares for a certain orphaned boy, by the name of Martin. And what is a forever restless boy on the verge of adulthood to do, when he hears of all the heroes and adventures that go on in the frozen province? And it is Martin, who, in his elder years, decided to share his story of his years of living, or often just barely surviving, in the province of Mereth.