Eternal Intercessor - Another Original from Duwenbasden

[Duwenbasden]

Eternal Intercessor

Type: Fantasy / WC3 inspired
Settings: Magrodia / Azuceor

This is my second story, after True Colors (which is almost near the end at the time of posting, on chapter 11). This one is based on characters I created in WE. This one will be slow in updating because I am quite busy with school and True Colors right now. However, enjoy for now .

Inspiration: Tolkien, Wheel of Time, Warcraft

Prologue 1/2

Conflicts anywhere cannot match the conflicts within.

Even when your closest friends and family seems to be on your side, there is no telling what they are really trying to do inside their minds. When they seems to be helping you through the toughest challenges of your life, they maybe trying to push you further into their own traps; when they seems to be guiding you to tackle your problems, they maybe trying to eliminate you from their plots of their own. Even in the best of times, there is possibly no difference between friends and foes.

Aceanuis smoothed his red and white robe, the robe of the high archbishop, while looking out the tower window of the sanctum, that seemed to soar forever into the great sky above. Today, he thought to himself, today is the day. The day of the ascension. I'll be proclaimed the high archbishop of my dearest tribe. From today on, everything I say, everything I do, even everything I see will mean a large part of my tribe's future. I cannot lead my people to their doom for my failures. Aceanuis' tighten his alright leathery face further. Slowly, his eyes turned away from the giant glassless window and toward the closed door on the opposite side of the tower.

Years of internal conflicts and vendettas had plagued the tribe and leaving it vulnerable for other to consumed its entirety. The former archbishop, Firogeni, tried to restore order in the sanctum. He tried uniting the advisors to one common prospective but the split inside the sanctum was already too great to be united by anything short of a coup d'etat. Even his reasoning of his actions were justified, many of the lords that supported the high archbishop felt that his proposition was a threat to their position and felt that Firogeni was going too far to unite the lords of the sanctum. Coincidentally, almost immediately after his failures, on one faithful night two months ago he was found dead in his bed chamber by his wife Theodora, apparently death from Asumor poisoning. The perpetrator was never found and the case was closed as mysteriously as it started. Immediately after the death of an election was called to elect a new archbishop to take the duties of the late Firogeni, and Aceanuis was elected to be the next high archbishop of the Azuecor tribe by merely one more vote. Many of the lords that opposed Firogeni felt that the new election was skewed to allow Firogeni's followers to win once again, and they threatened to hamper the ascension to the bitter end.

Sighing, he began to walk toward the door. Why am I in the middle of a conflict that I am not personally involved in? Aceanuis thought to himself. I am not interested in anymore bloody conflicts in my own tribe. I will restore order if this is the only thing I can do before the light are taken away from me. Deep in his thoughts he opened the door and started his descend toward the citadel, where the ceremony would start and Aceanuis would be crowned the new high archbishop of the Azuecor tribe.

When he arrived at the citadel, he was greeted and saluted by the lords from across the tribe. Giving no attention to them, he headed toward the throne where after today, he would spend most of his time discussing and giving orders and affairs alike. As he stopped before the throne and turned around, observing the quiet yet excited atmosphere inside the citadel, he spotted the opposition heading into the citadel. He, though a little nervous, kept his blank face and sat down slowly when the opposition arrived at the citadel.

“Sorry for the late arrival, my new high archbishop,” Lebudicis, the first to kneel on his knees before Aceanuis. “But we were stopped by ... some of our businesses.” Lebudicis eyed Aceanuis, who only grunted in responses to his explanation, in a way that mocked even the cats that caught the most mice. He turned around and headed toward the back of the lines of lords on either side of the great hall. Giptshorn, Aceanuis' chief advisor, stepped out from the line and stood in front of Aceanuis with a paper in his hand.

“The ceremony will now begin,” Giptshorn, Aceanuis' chief advisor. “The ascension of the 52nd archbishop of the Azuecor Tribe will now commence.” As Giptshorn continued his speech, Aceanuis looked at the opposition row, and spotted his main competitor. The pawn that the opposition used in an attempt to seize the throne and threw out the loyalists. Duwenbasden stood in the crowd, eying him with a unforgiving amount of hate and anger that seemed to engulf his whole body, as if he was ready to snap Aceanuis' throat into two at any moment.

He scrutinized the great chamber of the citadel, insisting on not moving his head foolishly. Ruby filled beams supported the dome shaped roof covered in stained glass depicting the symbol of the Azuceoris – a flying falcon flown over the bright outline of the towers of the citadel. Carefully masoned and smoothed grayish colored bricks lined the walls of the great chamber crossed with the finest wood so delicately cut and smoothed to perfection. On the walls various paintings of the past archbishops were hung up high on the left side of the chamber and on the other marked in gold the coat of arms of the Azuceor tribe – two falcons dancing in flight. He looked at Duwenbasden again. His eyes were still locked on to him as if Duwenbasden had just seen his chief nemesis of his entire life and wanted to took what is remaining of his strength and power. He looked away from Duwenbasden and put his eyes on Giptshorn, who was about to finish the long proclaimation of ascension.

“... and duty. Now, speaking as the voice of our highest king, Decoradin, I now pronounced Aceanuis, of the house Neutarios, as our new high archbishop of the Azuceor tribe,” Giptshorn finished the remainder of the proclaimation as some of the servants brought in a deep red pillow-like object, with the crown of Azuceor resting peacefully on top of it. Carefully Giptshorn grabbed the ruby crested crown with both hands. Holding the crown a foot in front of him, Giptshorn began to ascend the steps to the throne as Aceanuis waited anxiously for the moment when he would be the archbishop, the highest order of his tribe. However, the opposition to scream as Giptshorn was about to put the crown on his head.

“He does not deserve the crown!” one of the opposition lords screamed at the direction of Aceanuis. “He does not pass our recommendation. He shall not be our high archbishop!” The chant grew louder as other lords that opposed the high archbishop began to join in the chant. Ignoring the ever-growing chant, Giptshorn lowered the crown onto Aceanuis' head.

“He shall not be our high archbishop!” The chant spoke as if the level would shatter glass and burst ears. “We will not listen and obey to a fake high archbishop! He shall not be our high archbishop!”

Frustrated, Aceanuis stood up and attempted to quiet down the loud chant and prepared to speak. The chant died and the opposition opened for his speech. “I was elected as the new leader of the Azuceoris. That means I am the successor that the people of Azuceor wanted.”

“You did not win the election. You only won because of cheap tricks that your pet dogs used to ensure victory!” Duwenbasden yelled at the direction of the throne. “We will not tolerate any corruption within the citadel!” Right after Duwenbasden finished his speech, he thrusted a dagger toward one of the loyalists' throat and slitted it open. The rest of the opposition followed and began to draw their weapons and ran toward the loyalists. The loyalists quickly drew their own weapons and a stand off seemed to be inevitable.

“What is the meaning of this? Duwenbasden, did you realize the crime of the action you did?” Aceanuis said angrily toward the murderer. “I will also not tolerate anything that threatens the integrity of our tribe!”

As if all the words from Aceanuis' mouth meant absolutely nothing, Duwenbasden turned his attention to Aceanuis. With the dagger still in his hand, he walked slowly toward him. “To remove a stubborn man, the only way is to use force.” Changing into a dash, Duwenbasden tried to stab Aceanuis right in his heart, but Giptshorn stood in the way and stopped his arm from shortening anymore distance between life and death. With a sharp twist to the arm, Duwenbasden let out a loud agonizing cry and dropped his knife.

Eying furiously at Giptshorn's action, Duwenbasden dashed away from the high archbishop and began to walk to the door, yelling commands at his followers. At the door, however, he turned around and yelled at Aceanuis: “You will regret this day forever in your live!”. With fire and hate burning in his deepest soul, he headed toward the direction of the living quarters of the citadel.

Aceanuis eyed at the chaos as Duwenbasden's followers began to rebel against Aceanuis and acted to see him dead. The honor guards sworn to the high archbishop took their defense and attempted to stop all the rebels plotted against him. Blocked by the honor guards, the rebels decided to attack the honor guards instead, an action against their morals and tradition, but they did not care – they only wanted Aceanuis, the illegitimate archbishop or their lands, to be gone forever from their citadel and never to return again. One of the rebels, Ursoz, threw himself toward one of the honor guards, trying to create a hole in the line of defense, but the honor guard expected the attack and slowly aimed the Axespear toward the attack. Ursoz panicked but it was no use; his heart slammed into the spear point of the honor guard's weapon. Staggering, he glared at the honor guard, then at the giant iron blade. He laughed, but no sound ever came of of his mouth. As the fighting continued, Aceanuis stood up and some honor guards escorted him to the back of the citadel as the fighting began to paint the main hall a crimson red.

Yes, I did proofread this one.

 

[Halahan]

Great.

you start out pretty fast, with him walking quickly to the crowning and little description in between. If you add that, it will help the reader get drawn into the story more and draw a better picture of reality.

Describe Duwenbasden more, it just seems like all of a sudden theres this guy with a dagger that really hate you in the crowd. Is he the pawn of the opposision? If he is, state that. If he isn't, describe who he is.

Great and pretty gripping.

 

[Duwenbasden]

thanks. I'll add more of Duwenbasden's description in the prologue That's a problem of me, describing too much of one thing and too little of another.