[b]Thanks so much. This is a kind of interlude section. There is no violence in this chapter, but it sets up the scene for how the world is in 200 Fourth Era (the time of the fifth game in the franchise). This is written by Gregzilla and The Doctor.[/b]


[size=4]Chapter 5: Past to Present[/size]

[i]4E 200
Dead Man's Drink Inn, Falkreath
Falkreath Hold, Skyrim
Nirn[/i]

Falkreath was the major city within Falkreath Hold, although one of the smaller ones in Skyrim, with litte in the way of defenses like a surrounding wall, not to mention the strategic disadvantage of lying in a valley.  Still, one could hardly argue that it was a more peaceful place, more like a farming village than an actual city.  Once, Falkreath had been a part of Cyrodill, but had become a part of Skyrim later.  Not that anyone seemed to care much about what territory they were apart.  It really was just a farming village, after all.

The cloaked man sat in the Dead Man's Drink inn, pretty much the central meeting place for anyone in the small city.  The drink sat on the counter next to him, untouched, only there to keep up appearances.  Being a Reploid, Zero did not need to drink at all.  Instead, he simply at there, hoping that the Sergeant would get there in the time specified in his message.  He was mostly sure that she would, having respoded to most of his messages before, but there was always something that could get in the way.

A woman walked in through the front door, the same dark brown clothing on. This time, however, in the middle of the day, she wasn't accosted by anyone. Some might have thought she was some kind of sellsword or something, or at least a woman pretending to be one, seeing as she definitely wasn't a Nord with her hair color. The woman sat at Zero's table, pulling back her hood. She knew that wearing such a hood generally was a way to [i]attract[/i] attention, and nobody else was wearing one in here, so she just rolled with it. "Barkeep, a flagon of Nord mead," she said. After the container came over along with two glasses, she just left it there, however, giving only that which she had to. It was mostly to keep their conversation unknown anyway, since it wasn't like anyone would bother with someone else drinking. Finally she spoke to him, looking over his dirty, scratched form. "You look like hammered sh**," she said rather bluntly. "What the hell happened when I went off, you go through three blenders?"

Zeros frowned.  Of course, he knew that the Sergeant was not being serious, anyone could identify the sarcasm in her voice.  And it was indeed true that he had been through many a fight through the years.  His armor still held together perfectly well, but one could easily see the dents in it, the scratches in his helmet.

"It's what happens after being around almost constantly for nearly two hundred years.  You tend to get a few dings in the armor."  Zero knew that this was untrue for any human, of course, it was his own attempt at making a joke in response to Azumi's.  He realized he shouldn't try it too often.

Azumi rolled her eyes at the counter-joke, but did smile a bit. Just the smallest smirk. Whether at him or with him, it was hard to tell, but at least she appreciated the effort.

"You know why we're here."  He continued.  "The Tamriel branch is expanding steadily."  After two centuries, the Assassins Guild that had started in Cyrodiil had grown into other territories of Nirn.  "New recruits are coming in steadily, and those that have grown to the suitable rank are able to teach them.  Nestal did preciesly as he was asked.  He and his descendents have made the way for the Assassins to have great allies in the Morag Tong, and we've been hunting down the Dark Brotherhood, which, while proving to be elusive, is slowly weakening."

The Mentor of the Interference Assassins nodded. "Where are we based? What's happened? How weak are they? I keep hearing something about dragons, the Thalmor, the Stormcloaks and the Cyrodiilic Empire, Argonia, too." She paused a moment. "A map might help, if you brought one." She motioned to the mead. "Feel free. Don't know if you take any."

Zero looked at the mead, then shook his head.  "Liquor inebriates humans.  I don't want to find out what it would do to me."  He then reached into the small pack he had brought with him, pulling out several maps.  One of the entirety of Tamriel, and two others of Skyrim and Cyrodiil in greater detail.  First, he put the Tamriel map on top of the others.  This was marked with all manner of dots, arrows, circles, and the like.  He pointed at where Cyrodiil was on the map.

"Our guild's main den is located in Cyrodiil, although we've expanded to have many others in the other territories.  This den is where other den masters report to, generally to me, although I'm not always there.  One of Nestal's capable descendants leads it in my stead.  Other prominent dens are located, outside of the Empire's reach, in Hammerfell, High Rock, and Skyrim."  He then moved on to the Cyrodiil map, pointing to a small dot, which joined with an arrow leading out of Cyrodiil's borders.

"This is where we last rooted out the Dark Brotherhood, their last base in Cyrodiil.  However..."  He put the Skyrim map next to the Cyrodiil one.  "The remaining forces that escaped have moved in to Skyrim, where there appears to be more bases waiting for them.  We've been trying to root them out, but they are incredibly good at hiding.  We're making progress, but it's slow."  Zero grimaced.  Reporting this failure was almost as bad as experiencing it.

"As for the dragons, or Dov, as they're called in Skyrim.  They are an issue, but not our biggest.  They are much like the dragons you see in many other stories.  Winged, reptilian.  They were numerous hundreds of years ago, but a war nearly wiped them out.  Now they're being raised by an ancient dragon that managed to survive, Alduin.  They've shown to be very intelligent, and capable of casting some form of magic.  I've issued the order to not engage them unless absolutely necessary, due to them being highly dangerous.  Many of this region's inhabitants are already actively fighting against the dragons, including the 'hero' of the region.  We've set our main focus on the Dark Brotherhood for now."

"What you've most likely heard about the Empire is how tyrannical it is.  They're less a government and more a series of warlords.  It's a major issue, but one we're not ready to fight against yet.  The guild isn't ready to overthrow an empire.  The Thalmor are a similar issue, albeit a smaller one.  They're described as 'elven supremacists', and that is very much the truth.  They seek to overthrow the current Empire and establish their own rule, as well as outlawing the worship of Talos.  If they took over, they could possibly be worse than the Empire.  They also falsely claim to have closed the Oblivion Gates in Dominion, a feat accomplished mainly by the Hero of Kvatch.  The Stormcloaks are one of the factions that oppose this imperial reigns, and we're looking to establish possible ties to them, as well as the Argonians, who have seceded from the Empire.  It's been difficult to find either, though, the Stormcloaks for their secrecy, and the Argonians for living in a dangerous swampland."

No, the Reploid did not take a breath the entire time he spoke.

[Stays for a month every few years of first 40, then every couple of decades for a month until Skyrim. Bases established in Hammerfell (outside the Empire), High Rock, Skyrim (outside the Empire), and Cyrodiil, the latter more for information gathering than anything. Also remarking on what happened to Morrowind.]