Blog of the Week - The birth of an Elder
The birth of an Elder - Frang Kafga
Saznakan smashed his fist on the arm of his throne, denting the ancient alien Oak, whilst his scarred and cracked lips pulled back over his fangs.
"Why am I expected to even accept the existence of this half breed", he spat. "The nation should eliminate any impurities in the blood line", he tapped his claw and attempted to make eye contact with his advisers.
"Would the high lord Magnus himself not vomit if he knew of even the existence of such an abomination?".
His council of war looked at each other and suddenly found the Kastorian engraved bone tankards they were drinking from fascinating.
The Dewiek elder's eyes bulged and suddenly he smashed his ceremonial claw mace onto the table, splintering it. "Speak!" he bellowed.
Silence and fidgeting ensued. It was not wise to raise your head above the parapet when Saznakan the Elder was in such a mood. None of the council were cowards but neither were they stupid. The first to speak may well be the lightning conductor to channel their Lord's rage.
"I will speak lord if this pleases you?". A young cub, stepped forward from the edge of the hall where the other junior members of the pack stood. The old wolf instinctively stood and his hand gripped his ceramal dagger. This prompted the rest of the council to murmur amongst each other.
Saznakan's eyes focused upon the cub and sniffed the air, he could smell fear but was not sure if it was his cowardly council or this impudent but brave or stupid newcomer. He tried to recollect his name or scent but struggled with either.
The cub stopped about six paces away (a distance recognised as far enough by the Dewiek not to launch a cowardly surprise attack) AKA good manners.
The elder waved his hand, a signal for him to speak.
"You Lord with the greatest of respect are old and more than ready to suckle from a teat in the sky", the cub said with very little respect at all.
Two particularly large body guards appeared but Saznakan waved them off.
This was really quite intriguing, who on Viciifolia would dare speak to him like this? And then the stellar dropped…….."Ahhhhhhhhhh…I see, you must be the bastard abomination Frang Kafga?". Saznakan began to chuckle, then giggle and eventually broke into a full wild guffaw.
The slightly bewildered throng in the hall decided it best to join in, except those responsible for security who were already trying to think of excuses or who to blame for this f*ck up.
Frang stood there with his paws behind his back, and head bowed forward, a complete pose of servitude.
"I see, you are here to do the right thing, you are here to die". The Elder raised his mace and smashed it onto the half-breeds neck but was surprised to see it pass through it, causing him to lose balance and fall onto the stone floor.
The stained glass window above which depicted The Saga of the Wolf Mother smashed as a figure came crashing through it. The figure landed heavily on Saznakan, smashing one side of his rib cage. He then stood, projected a steely gaze to all around the room and then smashed the elders head in with his own claw mace.
Frang then threw the mace to the floor, stepped over the corpse, sat on the throne and said "Now, let's talk politics".