so the beginning of this starts out in our world, in the year 2031, the world has descended into total war, and sets up quite a bit of chaos for the later story, but i can promise you it is a story about Skyrim, also most of the holes/ gaping chasms/ supper-massive black-holes in the story will eventually be filled in.

The Korean Peninsula stretched out below him, the rolling hills seemed peaceful, serene. He snorted, if only that was the truth, North Korea had declared war on the United States and her allies, South Korea hadn't even been able to put up a fight, Seoul had disappeared in a nuclear inferno, South Korea had surrendered within an hour. Seven more nuclear weapons had been detonated on United States soil, one had burned Maui to a crisp, taking Pearl Harbor and the pacific fleet with it. San Fran, San Diego, Los Angeles, Portland, Seattle and Area 51 (the experimental aircraft facility), had bought it too. Only one of those had been a North Korean nuke, the others were all Chinese, the United States had responded with their own arsenal, and in a matter of hours over one billion casualties had mounted on both sides. Now Nicholi and his team were being sent into a North Korean research facility to capture plans for a new super-weapon.

Nicholi was tall, with blue eyes and a light brown crew cut, in his elite fatigues he seemed almost handsome, if it wasn't for the arsenal strapped to his back, a M416 assault rifle, a semi-auto DMR (designated marksman rifle), a suppressed pistol and auto pistol, smoke and frag grenades, and a KA-BAR combat knife. To top it off he also had a full medical kit and light mortar with him. The rest off his 12 man squad was armed similarly, assault rifles, LMGs, carbines, a SMAW rocket launcher, and twelve duffle bags of ammunition for them to use up. His squad was the best of the best, drawn from all around the US and its allies, Canadian special forces, Israeli commandos, British SAS, Navy Seals, Coast Guard Salamanders, Army rangers, Air Force spec ops, and elite Marines made up this special team. The twelve finest killing machines the free world had to offer were about to be air dropped into North Korea to steal the most powerful weapon ever conceived and prevent Korea from deploying it.

Blasting their way into the compound had been easy, the guards had never seen them coming, navigating the the halls had not been such a simple task. The winding corridors had gone on seemingly forever until finally the twelve of them came to what looked like the main testing chamber.

"We'll set up the radio beacon and sensors here," Nicholi said, dropping his bag of ammo onto the floor. "We can tag off in pairs, everyone look for what they might be hiding around here."

Suddenly the doors slammed shut with a bang, a heavily accented voice came on over a loudspeaker system, "this, my friends is a matter teleporter, and you are about to be its first test subjects." The machine around them hummed to life, a tingling sensation spread throughout his body and the world disappeared in a flash of light.

It was the adrenaline shot in his medkit that saved him, being teleported was excruciatingly painful and brutal to the brain and heart. Ignoring the burning pain in his mind and heart, he managed to grab the adrenaline injector out of his medical kit and thrust it into his leg. The burning in his mind collided with the rush of adrenaline, he threw up, choking and gasping on his own bile, and the world spun into blackness around him.

When he woke up it was night, the moons shining bright above him, "what the fuck?" He muttered. Hallucinations, it's from the adrenaline shot and teleporter, it's only a hallucination. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, get a grip Nicholi, get a grip. Assess your surroundings, where are you? He was in a forest, the tall pines of what he would later know as the Falkreath Hold rose a about him. The rest of his squad was dead, they hadn't had the adrenaline shot that had saved his life. I need to know what I have to work with. He dragged the bodies of his former squad mates into a line, the eleven of them would need a proper burial at some point but not now. He went through each persons equipment, pistols, assault rifles, DMRs, carbines, PDWs, a LMG, a SMAW rocket launcher, his mortar, the twelve duffle bags of ammunition, and field rations for two months per person. Luckily, all the assault rifles used the same NATO ammunition and all the pistols were 9mm for the most part. Now all I need is a place to stash them. Looking around he saw a nearby building, about three hundred meters away, that looks good.

he sprinted down the hill to the building, no one at the door, the house was a medieval, germo-nordic style. Pine beams, stacked stone and white clay walls, and a thatched roof made up the small cottage. Carved into the wood door was an ancient Icelandic script. any normal person wouldn't have even recognized it, Nicholi wasn't any normal person. He had been orphaned at age ten, his "uncle" had been part of the CIA, so he had grown up learning to kill, to speak dozens of languages, including a similar dialect of Icelandic. He had been part of the first successful human augmentation experiment, enhanced night and peripheral vision, increased pain tolerance, extreme muscle endurance and efficiency, and superhuman reaction time and reflexes. The augmentations had also made his brain more efficient, now capable of using 11% of the brain's capacity versus the 4%-5% that most people had. This had allowed him to learn twenty-seven languages in ten years, he could speak each one almost perfectly, with only a faint accent. He knew Latin, Greek, Icelandic, Finnish, Swedish, Italian, German, French, Austrian, Slavic dialects, Russian, Chinese, Korean, Nahuatl, Spanish, Vietnamese, Swahili, Hindi, Japanese, Arabic, Hebrew, five Native American dialects, and Klingon.

Pinewatch, he opened the door, no one inside on the first floor, but he heard voices from below him. He picked up on a few words, dagger, gold, trade, raid, kill, murder, empire, these were bandits, raiders, outlaws, I still need to find out where I am, they live for now.

He called out in Icelandic, "greetings, I am lost, can you help me find my home?" It was far too formal, and the dialects were not quite the same, but the message got across. Three men came running up the stairs from the cellar, they were wearing fur armor, one had a sword strapped to his hip, another had two crude iron axes, the last had a battleax strapped to his back. A fucking battleax! These were barbarians, not common outlaws. I'm not in Iceland after all.

The barbarian with the battleax said, "you picked a bad time to get lost friend."

Nicholi held out his hands in a show of peace, "I come in peace, I do not want to fight, I need help." "can you help me find town?"

"We help, for a price, or kill y-," battleax growled.

"What is (the) price?"

They laughed,"five hundred septims."

"I have no septims, none at all." Nicholi said. Must be local currency

"Then you die."

Nicholi sighed, pulling out his auto pistol he flipped it to single shot, BANG! He fired a round into the ceiling, "where is the nearest town?"

The bandits were freaking out now, they acted like they had never even seen a gun before. Maybe they hadn't, whatever their thoughts, they did the obvious, they tried to kill the threat. Battleax charged Nicholi, BANG! BANG! BANG! Nicholi fired a three round burst into his face. Battleaxe's head exploded. The swordsman was already charging Nicholi, he drew his KA-BAR knife and thrust it into the bandit's heart, the pistol aligned with his head, he cut him down in a chattering burst of flame. The last bandit was on the ground cowering.

"No, no kill, please."

Nicholi lowered his pistol and looked around the cottage. There was a map on the table, he turned around to look at it, "go." He snarled at the bandit, "forest, now." Instead of leaving, the bandit rushed Nicholi, bringing his war ax in an arc towards his side. Nicholi turned around and grabbed the bandit's arm, the crunch of bone was drowned out by the shriek of pain from the bandit. BANG! He finished him off.

Nicholi turned his attention back to the map, skyrim, he definitely wasn't in Iceland, or anywhere else on earth apparently. He rolled the map up and put it in his pack, he sifted through the bodies and grabbed what gold he could off of them. Might be useful later. He grabbed a blanket off the bed in the cellar, and left the cottage.

After he got back to his site, he found a small cave with a narrow entrance, he stashed everything but his suppressed pistol and KA-BAR knife in the cave and camouflaged the entrance. The next day was spent digging eleven graves for the other members of his squad. Most had died from heart failure or a stroke, but a few had died from cognitive shutdown. He marked each of their graves with a wooden cross.

"Rest in peace my fellow brothers in arms."

About a week later Nicholi had been studying the books he had found in the cottage learning the language, it was very similar to the Icelandic dialect he knew, but the grammar, pronunciation, and vocabulary were all different enough to make it as learning a whole new language. So he had spent the last week of his life sitting in a cave studying the language from three books, Thief, Mixed Unit Tactics, and the full volume of The Lusty Argonian Maid.

Nicholi studied the map, walking through the forest, the nearest town was a small town called Helgen, he dropped down a small rock face, not really paying attention. He dropped right into what appeared to be a roman military camp, "Am I in fucking Rome." The soldiers were shouting and running towards him. Are they friendly or hostile? his answer was a pommel swipe to the back of the head.