Bal-Sagoth Lyrics
And lo, when the Imperium Marches Against Gul-Kothoth, then Dark Sorceries Shall Enshroud the Citade
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[Chapter 1: The Voyage of the Sorcerer] Page
The war between the Imperium and the allied
Vyrgothian Kingdoms had raged for years. Beginning
as minor disputes over border territories, the
conflict had swiftly escalated into a full-scale
bloody war, a vast series of epic campaigns,
fervently perpetua ted by the Emperor Koord and
the Over-King of Vyrgothia, both eager to smite
their traditional ancestral foes and to win great
glory and the adulation of their people by seizing
victory in battle. Recent months had seen the
forces of the Imperium display a staggering degree
of tactical mastery and battle prowess,
contemptuously crushing the Vyrgothian armies in a
series of great battles, 'til at last, following
the slaughterous Rout of the Fields of Kai-Vorg,
The Empire's finest fighting force, the fame d and
far-feared Legion of the Ebon Tiger, stood
unopposed not five day's march from mighty
Gul-Kothoth, the greatest and most ancient
fortress-city in all the Vyrgothian kingdoms. The
Legion of the Ebon Tiger could not easily count
their numerous and r esounding victories, and
their commander, the legendary warlord Baalthus
Vane, made it clear to the Emperor that he was
eager to press on deep into the enemy's lands and
seize the prize which awaited him; the siege and
capture of ancient Gul-Kothoth! And yet the
Emperor Koord did not order the Legion to march,
for disturbing information had of late been
relayed to him by his spies in the Vyrgothian
Royal Court... Dire rumours abounded that the
Vyrgothian mages had at last discovered the
ancient arcane r ites which would unlock the
aeons-fettered power of the dread Obsidian Crown,
a fearsome mystical artefact countless thousands
of years old, a black-jewelled circlet believed
once to have been borne upon the immortal brow of
the legendary Shadow-King him self! And it was
written in legend, that should the ancient spells
of might entwining the artefact be reawakened,
then incredible near limitless ruinous power would
thus be bestowed upon any army carrying the Crown
into battle... Had the mages of Vyrgoth ia truly
ascertained the time-lost conjurations required to
empower the Obsidian Crown, hidden for centuries
deep within the marble vaults of its ebon citadel?
Eager to know the truth, the Emperor dispatched
his most powerful sorcerer across the great In
land Sea to the Court of the Over-King, under the
pretence of offering the terms for the Vyrgothian
surrender. He was bade use all his sorcerous
skills to discover the truth... a truth soon made
clear by the disdainful refusal of the Imperium's
terms, an d the grimly fearsome message given the
sorcerer by Vyrgothia's Master Wizard, with which
to return to the Emperor: "And lo, when the
Imperium marches against Gul-Kothoth, then dark
sorceries shall enshroud the Citadel of the
Obsidian Crown..."
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[The Wizards of Vyrgothia:]
Darkly bejewelled circlet of night, Crown of the
Elder King, Unfettered at last the Trinity of
Might, The sceptre, the sword, and the ring.
[The Sorcerer:]
I stand upon the oaken planks of this great ship,
(the splendid flagship of the Imperium's navies)
Gazing at moon-gleam dancing on the vast, dark
sea... (And in my mind I behold) black crystals
gleaming... ensorcellment! I am enthralled by this
nighted spell... For I know that the slumbering
sorceries Of the Shadow-King's crown shall soon be
reawakened... And as I return to my emperor
(shackled to such woefully grim tidings), My
spirit is borne upon the leathern wings of a great
sorrow...
[Chapter 2: The March of the Imperium]
[The Emperor:]
Call forth the Ogre-Mage of the Black Lake And the
Swordmaster of Kyrman'ku, Let them speak the Words
Which Unfetter... Enshrined for countless
centuries, within its darksome citadel, Five score
and ten against the Tiger, (curse) the black crown
of the Shadow-King! By all the dark gods, I swear
I'll not be dethroned! A seething forest of
blackened blades, A churning sea of ebon
war-chariots, A searing storm of flaming shafts,
All this havoc and more shall I unleash against my
foe... Into battle! The Legion shall march... the
fall of Gul-Kothoth is nigh!
The Legion of the Ebon Tiger... six thousand elite
warriors of the Imperium, the pride of the
Emperor's forces... Bolstered by heavy cavalry,
and a squadron of deadly scythed chariots...
further reinforced by the Imperial Frontier Army
of one hundred tho usand highly trained spearmen
and archers... and never has this force met its
match in battle or siege...
[Baalthus Vane:]
Our banner flies ever glorious, undefeated we
stand, steeped in victory. The Iron Phalanx, six
thousand strong, our ever-honed blades, the
Tiger's gleaming claws. Pride of the Empire,
Scourge of the Vraii, Masters at Turonium, and
Kai-Vorg. Smiters of the Southern Host, Routers of
the Horde, Bane of the Over-King, we march to war!
And so, the Emperor himself rides to rendezvous
with Baalthus Vane, accompanied by his sorcerous
aide. The Legion of the Ebon Tiger reaches
Gul-Kothoth at dusk on the fifth day of their
march from the fields of Kai-Vorg, halting upon
the great arid plan which stretches before the
city, the huge dust cloud sent up by their massed
arrival obscuring the dying embers of the setting
sun. As the vast army begins to make camp,
arraying their splendid tents and banners, and
assembling their gargantuan siege-wag ons, the
Emperor stands gazing at the huge brooding walls
and colossal cyclopean gates of the city-fortress
before him, vowing that a torrent of red slaughter
shall befall Gul-Kothoth, regardless of any
sorcerous trinkets the Vyrgothians may possess,
and that the Over-King shall pay dearly for his
sublime arrogance. And twelve leagues distant, an
army of five score and ten, bearing the Obsidian
Crown, approaches the city...
[To be continued in Chaper 3: The Wizards Do
Battle]
[Lyrics: Byron]
[Music: Jonny and Chris Maudling]
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