Hey readers! The plot and the characters are made up by me, but the places and some other stuff are by Bethesda. Anyway...

Hello and welcome to my first elder scrolls fan fiction! This story will be updated frequently, usually about once a week. First, if you're going to take the time to read the story, I'd really appreciate reviews. They let me know what I'm doing right and wrong and help to improve my writing. So, enough about this, it's your turn. Time to read!

Black Marsh, Borderline

The dark elf leaned against a wall and laid his head back, his black hair falling down to his muscled shoulders. His skin was a mix of brown, black and blue, and it shone bright in the moonlight. He wore light armor of black leather and on his hip was strapped a fairly long sword, which swung as he leaned back. He was Sakov, son of Savon who was a dark elf who led the house of Da' Raethe, one of the five houses of Hlaluu. In the homeland of the dark elves called Morrowind, three main houses broke up the people and governed the province. Within these houses were smaller ones, meant to support their houses decisions and fight if need be.

When Sakov was born, many expected him to be a mage, as his father was. But Sakov was no mage. He was a skilled warrior, and although he was only 26, he was an excellent fighter. By the standards of the dark elves, he was an adult for the dunmer, another name for the dark skinned elves, who lived to be many centuries old. Sakov's fighting skills had put him here in Black Marsh, along side 20 other dark elves. They had been here for 3 weeks, guarding a pass that connected Black Marsh to Morrowind.

Sakov had not heard much why they were guarding here. He had thought the dark elves were on fine terms with the Argonians, the lizard residents of Black Marsh. But after being here many weeks and not being brought back to his homeland, he knew something was happening.

He stretched out, and groaned. By the light of the moon, he could tell his shift was over. He looked out towards the dark trees and shivered a bit. As he walked back to the barracks, he let his keen eyes look out over the dark swamps and trees that made up Black Marsh. Seeing nothing suspicious, he grabbed the handle of the door, but before he opened it, another elf came out. His skin was a grayish blue color, but his hair like Sakov's was black. He wore the same light black armor, but had a bow and quiver on his back and a sword positioned on his hip.

This elf was Drizzon do Thran, one of the more experienced elves stationed at Black Marsh. He nodded to Sakov and walked on. Sakov grabbed the handle again and opened the door. The barracks was a long building that had wool cots on each side for sleeping. Sakov walked past the sleeping elves silently and found an empty cot. Rules said they weren't allowed to remove their armor for sleeping, so Sakov only took off his sword and sheath, and lay down. The sounds of chirps and calls of creatures were the last sounds he heard before dropping into a well needed sleep.

An hour later

Sakov woke up as if someone had doused him in water. Although nothing would out of the ordinary to a human, but the elf's keen senses told him something was wrong. He heard nothing, not even the crickets chirping. Silently he strapped on his sword and crept out of the tent. All was dark, but the elf could see very clearly with his eyes that were accustomed to the dark.

He pressed himself flat against the stone building and slid around to the other side. Still flat against the wall and nearly invisible to any who might be watching, he turned the corner and looked out into the dark canopy of the forest, searching for anything out of the ordinary. He stopped as he heard a stick crack from behind him. He turned around and heard the twang of a bow being released. Instinctively he dove to the side as an arrow buried itself in the ground where he had been mere seconds before.

By then all of the dark elves had awoken from the sound. They came out of the barracks like shadows, readying their bows and swords.

Sakov ran away from the archer and outstretched his hand, and delved into his mind to perform magic. He cast a spell of fire in the general direction of the archer, more to scare him than score a hit. He ran towards the other elves, passing Drizzon, who was sending arrows into the darkness.

Then all went silent. Sakov drew his sword and turned around. He watched the darkness intently with his reddish eyes hoping for any sign of a movement. He saw a dark form in a tree and as he strained to see more, it released an arrow that flew past Sakov and hit another elf, pressing him to the ground. Sakov sent a ball of fire at the shape. The fire hit the form and it went aflame and fell off the tree.

Sakov looked back into the dark and cursed as he saw multiple forms hiding in trees. At once the forms released a swarm of arrows at the elves. They soared in and crashed against the dunmer ranks, wounding some and killing ten. One came at Sakov, but he rolled to the left and slammed one away with his sword. The archers drew their bows again, and on an unseen signal, realeased. The arrows flew in again, and four dunmer were sent falling to the ground as arrows peirced through their armor. Sakov batted a few arrows away but one hit him in the shoulder, burrowing into the bone.

"Cowards." He growled, grimacing from the sharp pain.

Without thinking he sprinted towards the trees and leaped up into one. He kicked down with his feet, launching him up eight feet, landing next to one of the dark forms. Up close they looked to be Argonians, but they wore dark masks. Sakov lashed out with his sword and cut the Argonian's bow in half. Before the Argonian could draw his sword, Sakov grabbed the Argonian and turned him so he acted as a shield from five arrows that were speeding towards Sakov.

Each arrow hit the Argonian, and as soon as the last one hit, Sakov crouched and launched himself at another archer. He flew fifteen feet through the air and landed next to his target. With a quick stab, the archer flew off the tree and hit the ground with a crack. He reached to his boot and grabbed a throwing knife, and in one fluent motion sent it flying towards an argonian archer. His aim was true, and it crashed into the archer leg, pushing him back of the branch he crouched on. Five more arrows flew toward Sakov, and he leaped to the side.

He flew through the air, and grabbed onto a thick brach, still keeping his mometum. He shifted his weight and flipped across the branch and again he was airborne. He shifted himself into a ball and as soon as he was in distance he lashed out with his foot at an Argonian in front of him, hitting its throat. The argonian went into a spasm of choking and leaped from the tree, escaping Sakov's deadly blade.

But Sakov kept his focus on the falling Argonian for too long. He heard the sound of four bowstrings being released and as he turned to face them, he was hit with three arrows, one in the lung, another in the leg, and in the stomach. He was overcome with a feeling of extreme nausea before he noticed he was falling backwards. A second later, his head hit a rock and he fell limp.

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