Текст песни Bal-Sagoth - To Dethrone The Witch-Queen Of Mytos K`U
Bal-Sagoth - To Dethrone The Witch-Queen Of Mytos K`U слова песни
To Dethrone The Witch-Queen Of Mytos K`Unn (The Legend Of The Battle Of Blackhelm Vale)[The Chronicles of War:]The vast armies of Mytos K`unn, marshalled by a sorceress of great powerknown as Zyrashana the Witch-Queen, had been cutting a swath through theEastern Kingdoms since high summer the preceding year. Empowering her troopswith great sorceries, she had s een all opposition fall before the raveningswords of her forces since the first bloody campaign; the invasion of theancient and noble realm of Delania. The aftermath of the final battle had seenthe systematic slaughter of the Delanian royal family, an d the torture andexecution of all those who had been loyal to their banner. During the ensuingmonths, more kingdoms and satrapies toppled before the might of Zyrashana`slegions, commanded by the fearsome and unswervingly loyal battle-lord TalusEbonfy re, a man of sublime brutality whom many beleived to be possessed by ademon-spirit from the dark realms. Emboldened by their victories and theexpansion of their queen`s dark dominion, the hordes of Mytos K`unn began theincursion into the lands of the Northern Tribes, beginning with the grim andbrooding territories south of the Snow Kingdoms... the rugged homelands of thewarlike clans which had been recently united into a strong realm by thepowerful warrior-king Caylen-Tor, a man known to his allie s and enemies alikeas the Wolf of the North. Thinking the barbaric tribesmen little threat, theWitch-Queen intends a largely unopposed march throught their lands to strikeat the wealthy and fertile realms beyond the Mountain Kingdoms to the west...bu t Caylen-Tor has vowed that a searing torrent of blood and steel shall meetall those who deign to enter unwelcome or drive their standard unbidden intohis land... As grim winter slowly yields to spring, the armies of Mytos K`unnbegin their march northwards, and news of the advance of the Witch-Queen`sforces into Blackhelm Vale, the valley known for centuries as the Gate to theNorthlands, soon reaches the highla nd stronghold of Caylen-Tor. Grimly takingup his sword and spear and donning the woad of war, he vows that Zyrashanashall pay in blood for every league she has dared venture in his sacred lands.Scouts soon return with the information that the enemy is camped at the baseof the valley, preparing to march with th dawn. The court shamans forseerivers of blood and untold carnage, and great battlespells are woven asCaylen-Tor leads his vastly outnumbered Northlander warriors to the misty,moon-swathed e xpanse that is Blackhelm Vale. Legends say that the blood ofmany kings has been spilled on the dark earth of the valley over thegenerations, and Caylen-Tor promises to his grim gods that the earth will onceagain drink deep this night. With his army si lent and brooding beneath themoon, he knows that whatever the outcome, this night shall see a legend of warwritten in blood and the deaths of men... a legend none shall soon forget...[The War Testament of Caylen-Tor (On the Night of the Bloodying of Swords):]O` grim gods of battle, empower us this night...Anoint us with the crimson rain, feed our steel with slaughter...Let every blow be a killing blow, grant us victory, or a warrior`s death.Come, moon-fogs, Descend to cloak our numbers, the heady scent of battlebeckons,My ash-hafted spear feels good in my hands, girt `round with spells (our fleshgloriously) woad anointed,Ravens awaiting slaughter soar high above, blood-worms bloat on red carnage,I`ll carve the moon-wheel in their flesh, as havoc churns the heather!A swirling mantle of mist-magic swathes us, powerful spells woven by thefen-witches of the great mere... Deep night and moon-mist shall be our alliesas we surge into the fray! At my bidding, the fog clears for a brief moment,and I gaze down upon the v alley to behold the army of the Witch-Queen...great tents arrayed upon the heather, powerful steeds tethered, the light fromcountless burning brands illumining the night, many warriors standing, weaponsin hand... aye, all sword fodder.Entwined in war-fogs...Entwined by war-spells...Blessed in blood as raven-saters, slake the thirst of steel burning bright,Reap the harvest of spilled entrails, we`ll return with many heads this night.The death-ravening black fury fills me,The spatter of hot blood seet on my lips,This yard of steel sings a deadly song in my grasp!Cleaving bodies left and right, a head falls with each swing of my blade,A storm of shafts screaming form yew-bows, (through their armoured ranks weshall) carve a path with steel, a blood-drenched swath!And the thirst of the earth shall be slaked with blood at the fields ofcarnage...A staggering sea of crimson, a towering mountain of ravaged flesh,All enraptured by the searing kiss of steel,All surfeit from supping deep of the grim chalice of battle...Brooding gods of the north, display to these outlander thralls thine ire,Envenom our blades with the death-kiss of a thousand serpents,Unfetter the dread war-wolves within us,That their claws may rend, and their jaws may be reddened.The bloodying is at hand!My spear hammers into the chest of a warrior, and bright blood eruptsfrom his lips as he falls to the heather. I turn aside a vicious swordthrustand my own blade snakes out to cleave the neck of the attacker, shearingthrough his veins in a shower of d ark red. An enemy blade opens my shoulderto the bone, but I sweep my axe out in a deadly arc, its iron head rendingarmour and biting deep into flesh. Talus Ebonfyre`s abdomen yawns open and hestaggers back as his intestines spew forth in a pulsing mas s. I sunder hishead with another blow as he falls and his skull yields to spill its steamingcontents to the earth. As I watch, a writhing, shadowy form rises from thesmitten corpse of the Witch-Queen`s warlord and flees howling into thenight... I vau lt to the saddle of a riderless black war-horse and seize thebanner of Mytos-K`unn... for every one of us that has fallen, we have takenfive of the enemy screaming with us... the battle is ours!Bright moon, gleam o`er moor and heather, wood and vale, deep fen andlake, Grim mountains crowned with snows, great rings of stones, black `neaththe stars, The storms extol our ancient glory, great mounds feed us, powerfrom the sacred earth. With faith and steel we walk our shadowed paths, ourblood runs as fire, swords blessed by sorcery.Wolves of the north, raise thine steel to the skies, revel in the pride ofyour wounds,Let our victory-song ride the winds of this blood-gorged eve,For on this night of red swords we have wrought a legend,Forged in the fires of our rage, and tempered with the spilled blood of theslain...O` grim gods of battle, empower us this night and always,Anoint us with the crimson rain, forever feed our steel with slaughter...Let every blow be a killing blow, grant us eternal victory, `til we die awarrior`s death.And so did Caylen-Tor turn the armies of Mytos K`unn back from thefrontiers of his northern kingdom. Those enemy soldiers who fled the field asthe mist lifted and their banner fell, are hunted down and brought to theirknees before the king. Summoning a surviving warrior Mytos K`unn, Caylen-Torgives unto him two gifts with which to return to his queen; one is the fallen,sundered banner of Mytos K`unn, the other is the cloven head of TalusEbonfyre. The king`s words ring out over the blood-drenched m oor: "Take thismessage back to your queen... if ever again she deigns to strike against mypeople, the slaughter this night will seem as naught compared to the havoc Ishall visit upon her then." When news of the defeat and the fearsome messageof Cayle n-Tor reached Mytos K`unn, Zyrashana`s spells of regal dominancewaned, and her many courtiers and councillors, liberated from the impositionof subservience, plotted against their queen, `til soon she was driven fromthe great royal palace by her own el ite guard, her throne seized by anambitious baron who had won the favour of the nobles and mages of the realm.Evading inprisonment and surviving only by her mastery of spellcraft,Zyrashana fled to the satrapies of the east, and nothing more was seen orheard of her for some considerable time...