//. ;) I haven't played Skyrim in a long while , so forgive me if I get anything wrong
A young lad , dressed in a dark winter cloak , was scrambling around in a place where a ' normal boy ' wasn't supposed to be . The college of Winterhold . A college of magic - /witchcraft/ . Something he has learned to loathe for the longest time . Something that he had striven to bring the end of . Mage , witch , warlock , sorcerer , or anything of the matter ; they were all the same in his eyes . He believed that they all deserved death . And the college was the perfect place to make his move against the magical arts . He had managed to sneak inside , never trusting the front entrance of any building . The cold building sent him in a frenzy of random shivers and sneezes , and he was already starting to feel ill from the journey . He was freezing ! His fingers rested on the hilt of his knife , which was nothing more than a sharp kitchen knife . A mere knife that had managed to kill more magic users than anyone could expect . A weapon should never be underestimated because it all depended on how well it was used . This lad knew how to work a knife .
He had managed to find himself lost which was a major downside . But he found himself to be in a library of some sorts . The Arcanaeum , the college's library . He was walking around aimlessly , gritting his teeth from the sharp coldness that the college always seemed to emit . He hoped to the gods that he was alone . He was too far from any hiding spots at the moment due to letting his curiosity get the best of him .
