The preparations had taken many months, but they were finally ready. Ririk smoothed out his necromancy robes, his face alight with anticipation.

Tonight, he would join his brothers and sisters in summoning one of the greatest dark wizards of all time: Faryll Darkslade, a legendary man who'd known spells that could destroy an entire village in a single word. This was to be a historic occasion, when Faryll was finally returned from the dead so he could once again reek havoc upon the pathetic countryside.

Once half of their territories were scorched from the land, the Jarls would have no choice but to hand control of Skyrim over to Faryll and his summoners. The plan was foolproof.

Except they weren't counting on their interference.

/*****\

That night, beneath a full moon the color of blood, in a clearing in the middle of a secluded forest, they began the ceremony, searching for Faryll's soul among the many millions in the afterlife.

But, before they could delve into the other plane for more than five minutes, a whistle split the air, and an arrow suddenly appeared in the heart of the main spell-caster. Ririk cried out in shock as the other man collapsed, blood dripping down onto his robes already.

The entire cult of necromancers spun in unison, their eyes burning with fury, to see a lone archer standing on top of a stone not far from them, her bowstring still vibrating from being released.

She was tall, with caramel-colored skin and long chocolate brown hair held out of her piercing blue eyes by a long ponytail. Her ears were pointed; a Bosmer, or Wood Elf, as they were more commonly called now. She wore the armor of a forest Ranger; that is to say, light-weight fur armor, more than likely taken from animals she'd killed herself, with a long black cape over her shoulders. She wore no boots to silence her footsteps, and carried a large, mostly full quiver on her back and of course an expensive looking elven bow in her hands.

"Alrighty then! Just what do a bunch of idiots like you guys think you're doing in my forest? !" she snarled at them, having pulled out another arrow and already pulled it back in her bowstring, her eyes narrowing at them dangerously.

Ririk couldn't help but smirk slightly; what did a lone Wood Elf hope to accomplish against an entire cult of pissed-off necromancers?

But before any of them could say a word, a shout sounded, and a fire spell suddenly lit up three of Ririk's brothers. Their screams of agony were soon silenced as the fire engulfed them.

Out of the trees right behind their charred corpses came an Altmer, or High Elf, who looked extremely peeved at them. She was taller than the Bosmer, with light-yellow skin and hair died red with berries braided down her back, and pale orange eyes warily scanning the group of enemies before her. She wore a black mage's robe under a black cloak similar to the Bosmer's. She had a pair of boots on, but she most likely used a muffle spell to quiet her footsteps. She wore an assortment of magicka-boosting items, including a circlet, a necklace, and several bracelets; even a few rings, and all of this including a staff of flames wrapped in her right hand with a staff of summoning in her left.

Now, she would be more of a problem to handle.

But, of course, she wasn't the last one. Finally, a wave of ice blew through the necromancer ranks to freeze almost half of them. This time, out of the woods came a Dunmer, or Dark Elf, and he was as angry as his two female companions. His skin was ash gray, with long unruly black hair being held out of his eyes by a headband. His eyes matched his hair; pitch black, with his emotions easy to read by the way they glared in the moonlight. He held a wicked looking obsidian blade in his right hand and a staff of ice in his left.

They were surrounded on all sides by three Elves; an archer, a mage, and a spellsword, all at once. Half of their forces were already dead on the ground.

Ririk's eyes found those of the archer. She held the bow taut, unwilling to release it until it was pointed right in between his eyes. His gaze hardened. This girl meant business, even if her friends were only there for fun.

"So, are you going to surrender? Or do I have to send this arrow through your brain?" she asked.

/******\

A/N: Okay, so, that was a bit of a suckish way to end it. :) Anyway, this is meant to be a one-shot, but I kinda want to continue it, so tell me what you think!