Bal Sagoth The Splendour of a Thousand Swords Lyrics:
ALTARUS: Gaze deep into the mists with your
spirit-eyes, Xerxes... look far, and tell me what
you see. XERXES: I see a land far to the north...
a vast empire of dark endless moors and snow-
crowned mountains... a land of brooding citadels
and warrior-kings who hail to grim gods. ALTARUS:
Look well, Xerxes, for enlightenment hides within
the fog-swathed vales of Hyperborea... The King's
Dream: By the onyx sceptre of my forefathers, the
air is churning with auguries of dethronement...
Impending dread thus prophesized! In a dream I was
bade ride the argent-eyed unicorn to the Ring of
Stones... There a torrent of viscid slime assailed
me, as pipes and horns sang the clarion of my
dissolution... And the usurpation of my ancient
azure throne. Assassins stalk the nighted halls of
my palace... poisoned blades and chalices surround
me. I thirsted for a balm, but my thirst was
slaked by an envenomed draught. My swordarm
shackled by tendrils of sloth... enthralled by the
chasmed gloom... Borne upon wings of labyrinthine
dread... I awaken! I shall seek the counsel of the
sorcerer, keeper of the ancient scrolls of wisdom,
and the Crystals of Power... The Words of the
Sorcerer: My liege, great and regal king... the
mists disclose their secrets... you are destined
to wield a great dark power. Drink deep of the
potions of the apothecary, for upon thee now I
bestow a shard of the mystic Crystal of Mera...
sacred artefact of the Atlantean mages, won in
battle by our legions. My liege, the Crystal of
Mera shall unveil the truth lurking hidden in thy
most fever-haunted dreams... The Voice of the
Harbinger: The land awash with spilled blood, and
viscera torn forth from the sundered dead... Gorge
the earth with flesh darkened with the claw and
fang of war... rent open the ravenous maws of
worms... The King: The Crystal illumines dark
secrets, the truth is known... a dire and ancient
threat is ranged against me. Hearken, the clarion
is upon the winds, now the call to arms is upon us
all, Grim warriors, take up thy spears and hone
thy gleaming swords. Archers, string thy bows,
brave knights, saddle the steeds of war, The glory
of battle is nigh at last, our banner shall fly
this day in victory! My warriors, a legacy shall
this day be wrought by our blades, decreed by the
gods, Blessed by the blood of vanquished foes. Our
destiny beckons... Lord Angsaar, Dark Liege of
Chaos: Come, great king of Hyperboria, march
against me with your splendid legions and
shimmering swords. I, the Bane of the Atlantean
Kings, the Scourge of Lemuria, Archfoe of the
Immortals of Ultima Thule, shall Crush you! I
shall visit a thousand plagues upon your realm,
and wreak untold havoc and bloody carnage until I
have your throne... and your soul! ALTARUS: And
thus, flanked by the splendour of azure banners, a
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vast army marched forth from the great walls of
the Imperial City of Hyperborea, and at the
forefront of the mighty legions, astride an ebon
war-stallion, rode the king, sunlight glinting
upon his splendid armour... compelled by dreams,
and guided by the Crystal of Mera... XERXES:
Where? Where did the king's path take him?
ALTARUS: The king was compelled to lead his forces
to the shadow-haunted Mountains of the Dead, a
grim and brooding place steeped in dark and
ancient legendry. Alone he rode into the gaping
maw of a huge cave hewn into the side of the
tallest mountain countless ages past by unknown
hands. For three full days and nights he did not
emerge from the cave... until, at last, he rode
forth from the eldritch mountain once more, a
terrible knowledge shadowed in his icy eyes, and
bearing in his gauntleted fist a huge black sword,
a magnificent ebon blade which no human blacksmith
ever forged. Fearsome sorcerous power crackled
within the yard of black steel, dancing upon its
searingly honed, glyph-scored blade... and its
bejewelled, dragon-carved hilt did whisper arcane
secrets to the king in a strange, elder tongue.
XERXES: But master, what powers did this blade
possess? What secrets did it hold? ALTARUS: Many
centuries ago, before even were waged the Great
Wars between the ancient kingdoms of Atlantis and
Hyperborea, Lord Angsaar did rise from his
charnel-tomb and do battle with a powerful
immortal warrior-shaman over the possession of the
elder Crystals of Mera, mystic gems of
unparalleled magical potency. Angsaar, his power
swelled by forces from the vast Outer Darkness,
did smite his foe to the brink of destruction...
but, with his fading sorceries, the immortal
mystically transferred his life- essence into his
great black sword, and scattered the magic
crystals across the galaxy, leaving Angsaar with a
hollow victory and forcing him to return once more
to his dark Chamber of Slumber. The sword was lost
for centuries, as were the crystals, until the one
gem to remain on this world was discovered deep
beneath the northern seas by an ancient Atlantean
wizard. And the sword... legends spoke of how its
final resting place would be made known by the
sorceries of the last crystal only when the
blade's power would once again ne needed to battle
the Chaos-liege. This was the immortal's final,
most powerful spell... upon the reawakening of
Angsaar, the sorcerous energies and undying
lifeforce encased within the blade would be
transferred to its wielder... aye, the one who
discovered the Shadow-Sword would be imbued with
the power of the immortal, and by the art of elder
spellcraft, he would do battle with his ancient
nemesis once more... XERXES: Then there looms such
a cataclysmic battle! ALTARUS: And so, from his
Black Citadel, the Chaos-liege did send forth his
Horde of Wraiths to engage the army of the king...
THE KING: Behold, a legion of undead fiends meets
us upon the field of war. Face me, Scourge of
Lemuria, I wield thy bane, the Shadow-Sword...
(and darksome sorceries now empower me with
thunderous might!) Hearken, the clarion is upon
the winds, now the call to arms is upon us all,
The glory of battle is nigh at last, into the fray
we ride! XERXES: The outcome, master... who left
the field victorious? Did the king prevail?
ALTARUS: The mists begin to disperse... for now,
the images fade. That tale shall have to wait 'til
another day... Lyrics: Byron Music: Jonny Maudling
Lyrics: The Splendour of a Thousand Swords, Bal Sagoth [end]