1. |
A Fool's Errand
06:05
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2. |
Corpulent Warlord
10:13
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Great Kraal vast in his rusted mail
Warlord of the ruthless clan
Cunning ally of the pale crusaders
Slayer of the infant king
He craves neither peace nor comfort
Violence is its own reward
Woe betide he owes his lot
To that boundless wrath
He collects the bitter and corrupted
And wields their anger like a tool
Empowered by the might of Northern coin
His grip grows ever strong
Their treachery comes without surprise
But still his rage ignites
Woe betide those who line the path
To his bloody goal
He rallies forth his party thus:
“To the coward Uthur‘s keep
Our road-soiled band will cross his court
Boots befouling pristine stone
To his vulgar lounging throne
And strike the grapefruit from his grasp
Let him cower at my feet
Before the crowning blow!”
A thousand hooves of thunder
Amidst a hellish storm of dust
They leave only ashes in their wake
But nothing sates their bloody lust
The dread warrior rides ahead
Astride his iron-plated steed
He swings his putrid axe aloft
In his murderous trance
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3. |
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4. |
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Dawn’s first rays
Creep over the eastern peaks
The black horizon
Stirs with foreign shapes
The drowsing guard
Springs from his torpid state
Night’s curtain lifts
To reveal his certain fate
The archers on the eastern wall
Draw their bows with shaking hands
Their foes create a fearsome sight
Rolling through the dusty vale
They wonder at the horrid tales
Shared by ale and candlelight
Too late to flee and spare themselves
Trapped in this brutal place
The arrows rain down on Kraal’s men
Here and there they twist and fall
They spread their ranks and break in two
Keeping up their manic pace
The frontal force raise their shields
Above their heads to lend protection
And forge a path directly
To the fortress walls
The nimbler of the western flank
Scale the walls and fight one handed
Clinging to the parapets
Encroaching like a rising fog
They break into the clerics’ wing
Spreading panic and confusion
The slower of the chancellors
Are slaughtered at the abacus
The ancient oak
Groans and creaks
With each strike
Of the iron ram
Once it makes its puncture
The raiders force their entrance
Like water under pressure
Through the wounded gate
Through the great hall, empty
To the inner sanctum
Up the spiral staircase, winding
To Lord Uthur‘s vacant suite
The coin-chest is wide open
Cleared of its riches
The linen is immaculate
And his riding clothes are gone!
“Where are you now?
Reveal yourself!
And meet your fate
Where are you now?”
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5. |
Encircling Demons
03:03
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6. |
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Riding two hundred strong
Abarath Pass lies ahead of us
The road winds between stony cliffs
From grey Dokkinen to Syarivind
Our pace is quick like the desert horse
Though the path is loose and treacherous
We are constant as the flow of time
The vengeful crave no idleness
Our trail is strewn with golden coins
Found in the clammy palms of the peasantry
If he has paid them to stay their tongues
We will know of it before the day is out
After such largesse one might expect
The coward’s purse to be running light
If he resorts to threats, we will double them
Fear is the Warlord’s element!
Minds
And
Steel
Sharp
As serpents’ teeth
Bared
To
Strike
Fear into
Hearts
Of
Those
Lesser men
Who
Yearn
To
Live in peace!
Ride!
Ceaseless strides!
Hunt him down!
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Roundtable Melbourne, Australia
A tripartite union of true riff believers; fellow travellers wending their path through the cosmic ether. Transcending mere Iommic ritual, they wield might and beauty alike in pursuit of the mastery of lysergic liturgy. From the raw material of riff, rhythm and bellow, the lore of alternate realms is realised in extended compositions that explore the possibilities and limitations of their craft. ... more
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