This is the first chapter of my new saga, following my latest charicter, the fanatical War Priest Alistair Gideon.

Alistair Gideon kneeled in the corner of the wide stone anteroom of the ancient underground Ayelied Ruin. At the end of the chamber a grey-robed figure paced furtively, constantly shifting his eyes back and forth, surveying his surroundings. The conjurer was afraid, or excited. Knowing this one's history, it could have been either.

After several minutes of this, the conjurer finally stopped his pacing and drew a long, crooked wand, carved of black stone, from the folds of his robes. Carefully, the grey robed magus traced a line in the air with the wand, leaving a trail of burning red light and he traced it down until the tear in the fabric of the planes stood as tall as himself. The conjurer muttered something in Daedric, and the portal widened into a doorway of sorts.

From the dimensional rift stepped three figures. The first was a humanoid Dremora, clad in wicked, ridged black-and-red armor from head to toe, wielding a wickedly serrated longsword. The one thing that distinguished the servant of Mehrunes Dagon from a man was his furnace-red glowing eyes burning wickedly in the sockets of its helmet. Neither of the other two were particularly humanoid, one was a crooked, hairy, goblin like Scamp, the last being a saurian, lizard like Clannfear. The moment they cleared the portal, the two lesser Daedra fanned out, taking positions halfway down the corridor, while their apparent leader, the Dremora, turned its attention to their summoner.

The grey-robed conjurer knelt low before the Dremora and threw back his hood, revealing his face. The usually sun-touched Altmeri skin was pallid and dull, the too-blue eyes sunken into their sockets, and drawn features haggard. This was the man Alistair's Gods had demanded him punish. Memnark the Sorcerer.

The once-powerful summoner had been banished from the Summerset isles for Daedra Worship, Necromancy, and Crimes Against Nature. The cultist had fled to Cyrodiil, and it now fell to Alistair to enact the holy retribution that the courts of the Summerset Isles had failed to. Memnark was know bowed low, conversing with the Dremora in Daedric. Even if Alistair had understood that foul tongue, the War Priest cared nothing for the plots of Daedra and cultist traitors.

From its facet in his gold-gilded belt, Alistair drew forth his flanged silver mace, and whispered wards upon the head of the weapon in a tongue not understood even by himself. The prayers just..came to him like a spring flowing from a crack in the stone wall of a cave. Immediately, the gold-white glow of Sunfire ignited on the weapons head, and the Breton War Priest rose to his full height and charged down the length of the anteroom, shouting incomprehensible tributes to the gods and banging the sun-lighted mace against his bare tattooed chest.

The first of the Daedra to Intercept the wild charge was the scaled, saurian Clannfear that, in the manner of its breed, let out a piercing, guttural screech before throwing itself upon the War Priest. The creature never got that far as Alistair's Mace struck down upon the creatures head, the blow, divinely or magically weightened, crumpled the beasts skull as if it were nothing, leaving little more than a twisted, scorched stump of a neck.

Seeing a light flashing to his left, the War Priest turned to see a orb of flame hurtling towards him. The bolt of flame struck Alistair square in the shoulder, but rather than bursting into a corona of searing flame, the fire dissipated into the wild-eyed Breton's flesh, the power of his Atrionach Birth-Sign absorbing the magika into his own reserves. Feeling the power flow into his form, Alistair began to mutter unintelligible and arcane words, and gave form to his gods will.

Striking out with his fist towards the armored Dremora as it bored down on him with its wicked, shark-toothed blade, Alistair sent a wave of raw power from that fist. As the wave of force struck the Dremora, a crack developed in the center of its Ridged armor and it was thrown back into the rear wall of the antechamber, its flailing arm striking grey-robed Memnark and disrupting his hurried attempt at a spell mid-casting and bloodying the Altmers pallid face.

Hearing the satisfying crunch of the Dremora striking the stone wall, Alistair turned his attention back to the Scamp that, having seen its fireball produce no effect on the war priest, had, its its species immaculate knowledge, prepared a second spear of flame sent it hurtling at the Breton. Alistair didn't even let it connect, instead, he raised his Mace to intercept the bolt of flame, which immediately ricocheted back in the direction it had come from.

The hairy, cloven-footed goblinoid, showed a second of sheer terror in its eyes before the bolt struck it in the center of the torso, leaving a fist sized hole of smoking, charred flesh in the center of its abdomen. The Scamp gurgled blood for a moment before crumpling to the stone floor. Alistair let out a victorious shout before turning back his true for. Memnark was fumbling with his obsidian wand, hastily attempting to open another extradimensional portal, either to draw new allies to his side, or to flee the War Priests wrath.

"Memnark. Traitor to Tamriel and foul Worshiper of Mehrunes Dagon. Accept the punishment I will now deliver from the gods unto your corrupted flesh, may your spirit be treated with mercy at the hands of the Gods." Alistair stated calmly, before drawing back his mace and launching the heavy weapon at the grey robed conjurer.

There was a bright flash and explosion as the Sunfire, magically bound to the weapons head, unleashed itself in a flare of golden radiance. Even Alistair himself had to look away from the spectacle of celestial flame. When the War Priest returned his gaze to the place where the mace had impacted, he expected to see little more than a charred body where the conjurer had been, instead, he saw his fine mace impacted up to the head into a hunk of unnatural black/red lava-formed stone. A moment too late, Alistair realized that in an unequaled perversion of conjuration had transposed a piece of Mehrunes Dagon's realm into ruined the Aylied temple.

Then, an arc of lightning struck the stone cealing above Alistair's head. Memnark had learned from his scamps failings, and flung a second and then third bolt of lightning into the carved stone roof of the subterranean Aylied temple. On that last blast, the stone gave way, and began to collapse above the War Priests head. The Altmeri Conjurer gave a sneer as he opened a transdemensional gate with his obsidian wand and stepped through it, followed by the battered but very much alive Dremora Warrior. Once they were through, the gate winked out as quickly as it had opened.

Looking up, Alistair saw an enormous hunk of the stone cealing break away, a hurtle down at him with the force of a meteor.

To be continued....

Wow. Is it really that horrible? I know the forum is in a slow down, but its been up for three days. I would expect at least a less than tactful series of insults under the guise of a post, by now.

I liked this. I spotted some spelling errors (cealing instead of ceiling), but nothing too bad. I wouldn't worry about the lack of comments. Everythings been slowing to a crawl lately, probably because half the forum is spending all day playing New Vegas.

I suggest using the spellcheck, it helps a lot. Also, feedback here is lame and slow. People don't really like reading fanfics unless they are first hooked to it or when it's pretty short. Due to insufficient time to read a long story online, so only few are selected. But I read your story, liking it so far. Although, I never been a fan of conjurers, but looks interesting nevertheless. I want to see more about the wizard warlord.