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Тексты песен ›› Буква "b" ›› Balsagoth ›› The splendour of a thousand swords gleaming beneath the blazon of the hyperborean empire part iii


Текст песни The splendour of a thousand swords gleaming beneath the blazon of the hyperborean empire part iii от исполнителя Balsagoth


    (THE ANTEDILUVIAN ORACLE:)

    Behold glorious Hyperborea, gleaming jewel of the
    north; an eon-veiled kingdom forever steeped in ancient legendry and the renown
    of its martial splendour... but of late, an ill wind whispers malignly through
    its opulent labyrinth of marbled citadels...

    (WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE:)

    (Episode I:)
    THE SPLENDOUR OF A THOUSAND SWORDS GLEAMING BENEATH THE BLAZON OF THE HYPERBOREAN EMPIRE
    (To be found on the second Bal-Sagoth album; "Starfire Burning Upon The Ice-Veiled Throne of Ultima Thule")

    (Episode II:)
    THE DARK LIEGE OF CHAOS IS UNLEASHED AT THE ENSORCELLED SHRINE OF A'ZURA-KAI
    (THE SPLENDOUR OF A THOUSAND SWORDS GLEAMING BENEATH THE BLAZON OF THE HYPERBOREAN EMPIRE: Part: II)
    (To be found on the third Bal-Sagoth album; "Battle Magic")

    NOW...

    (Episode III:)
    CRY HAVOC FOR GLORY, AND THE ANNIHILATION OF THE TITANS OF CHAOS!
    (THE SPLENDOUR OF A THOUSAND SWORDS GLEAMING BENEATH THE BLAZON OF THE HYPERBOREAN EMPIRE: Part: III)

    (ALTARUS:)
    And so, it ends. You have learned much, young Xerxes.
    Your training is nigh on complete.
    The years which you have spent here at the Praxeum have been difficult ones,
    but the reward of elucidation you have gained far outweighs the hardship you
    have endured. Many lessons have you learned, not least of which is that
    knowledge is never without its price, my neophyte.

    (XERXES:)
    Yes, master Altarus. I have heeded your tutelage well, and your wisdom
    has been a great balm to me during the many trials I have undergone. I can now
    command the Mists of the Oracle, and the Great Eye of the Universe opens at my
    bidding. And yet, before I am placed before the final scrutiny of the Elders,
    I ask that I be allowed to gaze into the sidereal vista once more, to witness
    the final outcome of that great struggle which has so captivated me during my
    studies at the Praxeum.

    (ALTARUS:)
    Ah yes... the epic conflict between the Dark Liege of Chaos and the
    royal Scion of proud Hyperborea. Very well, my young apprentice. Command the
    starscape to divulge its mysteries... look deep into the fathomless mists, and
    the ruinous carnage of A'zura-Kai shall once again be arrayed before thine
    curious gaze. Aye Xerxes, thrice you have summoned the besieged and benighted
    vista of Hyperborea... now pay heed, for the final battle is at hand!

    (Chapter 7: The Last Stand Against Chaos.)

    (ALTARUS:)
    And a crimson sun rose slowly over the Field of Blood... and such
    were the corpse-mounds of the dead that they aspired to touch that ireful orb.
    Slithering shadows nuzzled the massed bodies of the slain, as the King rallied
    the survivors of the battle against Chaos to one final act of defiance...

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    Impertinent mortal wormcast! Do you truly aspire to prevail
    against me? I am the Bane of the Atlantean Kings, the Scourge of Lemuria,
    Arch-Foe of the Immortals of Ultima Thule! Long before man hurled himself
    squamously from the primordial ooze, I waged war with gods and thwarted
    eternity!

    (ALTARUS:)
    Lord Angsaar, the Dark Liege of Chaos, was poised on the brink of
    ultimate victory. By insidious manipulation, he had carefully drawn the forces
    of Hyperborea to battle at the Shrine of A'zura-Kai, pitting his legions of
    ravening wraiths against the stalwart forces of the Hyperborean Empire, and
    during the fray his agents of evil had seized the Ninth Crystal of Mera from
    the grasp of the King. With the cosmic energies of the Shrine magnifying the
    empyreal power of the Ninth Crystal, Angsaar triumphantly performed the arcane
    rite that would sunder the sorcerous fetters which had hitherto kept his
    physical incarnation confined within the ancient Chamber of Slumber. Summoning
    the interdimensional portal which the mystic power of the Shrine allied with
    the sorceries of the Crystal could generate, Angsaar channelled his fiendish
    presence from his darksome prison directly to the death-gorged Field of Blood.
    Thus was the spell of confinement woven countless aeons ago by
    Angsaar's immortal nemesis broken, and on that fateful day the dread
    Chaos-Liege strode the world of mortal men once more. The King, flanked by the
    few valiant survivors of the ruinous Wraith-onslaught, stood defiant before
    the withering glare of Chaos...

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    Ah, great King of Hyperborea! My mystic shackles are at last
    broken... I am free once more! Your army is lost, your realm is mine...
    it shall be blessed with the honour of being the first to fall before my
    renewed onslaught! Bow to me in obeisance!

    (THE KING:)
    Never! For too long your diseased machinations have hung like a
    black pall over glorious Hyperborea... you have invaded my very dreams and
    sown the virulent seeds of base treachery within my court. It ends here,
    arch-fiend!

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    Feh! Yield to me, throw down your sword! Obey and I promise
    that your death shall be swift, if not entirely devoid of suffering!

    (THE KING:)
    I defy you!

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    Hyperborea shall fall! Your court shall become the heart of my
    new imperium! Your people shall become my lackeys, bearing the glorious burden
    of my sovereignty with sweet praise upon their lips!

    (THE KING:)
    I shall always defy you!

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    Then your pain shall etch a new legend of suffering in the
    benighted obelisks of the Outer Darkness, and not even that cursed blade of
    adamantine black steel shall preserve thee! Die!

    (THE KING:)
    So, the final battle begins! Into the fray we ride! For the eternal
    glory of Hyperborea!

    (ALTARUS:)
    And the Chaos-Liege summoned the remnants of his cackling
    wraith-horde, commanding the unholy brood to once more hurl itself like a
    black tide against the now bloodied but still razor edged steel of the grim
    survivors of Hyperborea. With the enchantments of the Ninth Crystal still
    crackling in the air about the Shrine, the incorporeal frames of the wraiths
    were once more transmogrified into squamous pseudo-flesh, and thus vulnerable
    to the biting blades of the King's depleted war-host. Rallying his forces once
    more, the Royal Scion of Hyperborea clove into the massed hordes of nethermost
    horror, his ensorcelled ebon blade hewing five-score left and five-score right,
    leaving a viscous and noxious trail of sundered fiends in his wake. The
    Arch-Wraith of Lord Angsaar, that same bestial horror which had smitten the
    King and seized the Crystal of Mera from his gauntleted fist, swooped screaming
    from the crimson sky in a bid to extinguish the life-force of the Hyperborean
    monarch, but the benighted blade of the King was swifter, and with a flash of
    noisome green light and smoke, the Arch-Wraith's head rolled to the
    blood-slaked earth, its leering countenance forever frozen in a grotesque
    parody of un-death. And once more, like a purifying storm of righteous fury
    the heroes of Hyperborea dealt steel-cold and martial discipline unto the
    baying hounds of Chaos.

    (XERXES:)
    And yet I perceive that the wraith-horde's number was being ever
    bolstered by the sorceries of the reborn Chaos-Liege... for every keening
    horror hacked down by a Hyperborean blade, three more were summoned from the
    Outer Darkness by the machinations of Angsaar. Even the courage and the grim
    determination of the King's valiant force could not hope to prevail against
    such an overwhelming foe. But the last, best hope still remained, clutched
    tightly within the King's fist! The Shadow-Sword!

    (ALTARUS:)
    Your perceptions are clear, young Xerxes. The life-essence of
    Angsaar's arch-foe was still encased within the stygian sword following their
    last cataclysmic encounter many aeons past, and that yard of fearsome black
    steel spoke once more to the King in the same long dead tongue it had burned
    upon his mind deep within the Mountains of the Dead. One hope remained to
    defeat Angsaar, but it would carry with it a most terrible price for the King.

    (Chapter 8: The Return of the Immortal)

    (THE ECHOES OF THE IMMORTAL:)
    Hearken, noble King of Hyperborea. Long ago,
    before life evolved from the boiling oceans of the primordial sphere, I waged
    furious and slaughterous battle with the Chaos-Liege over the possession of
    the sacred Crystals of Mera, shards of such incredible sorcerous potency that
    even the Empyreal Lexicon itself was no greater a prize. Although I succeeded
    in smiting the dark one and imprisoning him within his Chamber of Slumber, I
    was hammered to the brink of dissolution by the abominations of Chaos, and I
    thus transferred my life-essence into my Sword, that same blade which you now
    hold in your grasp. I committed my fading energies to concealing the blade
    from the sight of man until such time as it would once more be needed to bring
    to bear against Chaos... aye, until such time as Angsaar reawakened. It was I
    who guided you to the mountainous resting place of the blade when my arch-foe
    marked you as central protagonist in his scheme to recover the
    Prime Crystal, o' King of the North. To utterly destroy the Dark Liege of
    Chaos, you must join your essence with mine... we must fuse our life-forces
    and become one so that my full power may be unleashed against Angsaar once
    more. But this final deed demands the most severe of tolls, o' noble monarch...
    To become as one with the immortal essence of the Shadow-Sword is to sacrifice
    forever your own mortality, and to forsake eternally the world of man. Are you
    prepared to pay this price, King of Hyperborea?

    (THE KING:)
    To preserve the sovereignty of my realm and safeguard my people
    from the forces of darkness? Aye! For my kingship demands no less a commitment!
    So be it... let this final deed be done!

    (THE WARRIORS OF HYPERBOREA:)
    Imperius Rex!

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    What futile gesture is this? Curse you, manling! Can you not
    accept the inevitability of your defeat?

    (THE KING:)
    Begone, servitor of Chaos! Your nemesis awaits thee! Return to the
    Outer Darkness!

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    You fool! You cannot comprehend your actions! I offered you
    sweet oblivion, and instead you have chosen tortuous damnation!

    (THE KING:)
    I would sooner suffer damnation a thousand times than bend the knee
    to Chaos!

    (ALTARUS:)
    And a great stillness descended over the Field of Blood. Grimly,
    slowly, the King held aloft the Shadow-Sword and spoke those baleful words of
    power which had been forever branded indelibly upon his soul. Writhing tendrils
    of night-dark, coruscating energy lanced from the surface of the blade,
    entwining the King in a pulsating chrysalis of searing sorcerous power. His
    eyes shone deep crimson with an illuminatory radiance not born of this world,
    and forces which had lain dormant since before the fall of the Third Moon
    stirred at last from their aeons-old slumber...

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    No... my eternal nemesis, you will not thwart me! Abominations
    rise! Destroy these mortals who vex me as the buzzing of gnats vexes a titan!
    Drag their impudent souls to the abyss!

    (THE WARRIORS OF HYPERBOREA:)
    Havoc is the cry! Come, fiends of the nether-void...
    face righteous pattern-welded death!

    (LORD ANGSAAR:)
    Praise Chaos! By the crystal heart of Mera I shall stand deified!

    (THE WARRIORS OF HYPERBOREA:)
    Glory eternal! For our King and sacred Hyperborea!

    (THE KING:)
    Noble warriors of Hyperborea... I salute your steadfast courage.
    This will be my final command to you. Now come... follow your King into battle
    one last time. Into the fray we ride... For the eternal glory of Hyperborea!

    (ANGSAAR:)
    The circle closes... you cannot resist the unparalleled might of Chaos and the exquisite majesty of the Z'xulth! I shall unleash all the terrors of the Outer Darkness against thee! Behold the true extent of my power... My flesh is a shrine wherein all demons dwell!

    (THE WARRIORS OF HYPERBOREA:)
    Stand fast! Cry havoc for glory and the annihilation of the titans of Chaos! We fight to the last man!

    (THE KING:)
    By all the gods of Hyperborea... a legacy shall be wrought by our blades... our legend shall live forever! Hear me, Angsaar! My humanity fades... my mortality dissipates as does the darkness before the glimmering kiss of the dawn! Let us finish it... Let this be our final battle!

    (ALTARUS:)
    And thus was etched into the eternal codex of the heavens the
    immortal legend of the Hyperborean Empire.

    (XERXES:)
    But master Altarus... what was the outcome of the final clash? What
    effect did the power of the Immortal have upon the King? Did he ultimately
    defeat Angsaar and the horrors spawned from the Outer Darkness?

    (ALTARUS:)
    Alas Xerxes, no one knows the final outcome of the battle. Even the
    Great Eye of the Universe and the Mists of the Oracle are unable to ascertain
    the fate of the King and his army on that fate-steeped dawn. So much
    unparalleled and polarized arcane power was unleashed upon the Field of Blood
    at that instant that it has forever obscured the oracular vista and shielded
    the truth from the eyes of even the most talented and presentient master of
    the Praxeum. Today, Hyperborea is but a memory, a glorious legend which rests
    forever within the same fathomless shark-haunted grave as do mythic Lemuria
    and fabled Atlantis..

    (XERXES:)
    I shall make it a priority to ascertain the truth, master. I vow I
    shall channel all the skills I have learned here at the Praxeum into
    discovering the final fate of the King of Hyperborea!

    (ALTARUS:)
    And I believe that you may well succeed, my young apprentice. But
    whatever the case, one thing is certain. As long as legends endure in the
    cosmos and the deeds of heroes are celebrated in the annals of eternity, none
    who gaze in awe beyond the mists and are blessed to behold it shall ever forget
    the splendour of a thousand swords gleaming beneath the blazon of the
    Hyperborean Empire.

    (THE END...?)

    (15 October: 1893)
    After a sleepless and oppressively feverish night spent pondering the truths
    which I exhumed amongst The Ghosts Of Angkor Wat, I have concluded that these
    perceived parallels and their possible significance carry me ever closer to
    the centre of this great global web, the strands of which I have been
    traversing in my long quest for enlightenment, and yet I now fear that the
    owner of this web has surely felt the tremblings I have caused along its
    delicate filaments, and may well feel compelled to investigate the
    disturbance...

    Текст песни The splendour of a thousand swords gleaming beneath the blazon of the hyperborean empire part iii от исполнителя Balsagoth представлен исключительно в ознакомительных целях для частного использования. Слова песни принадлежать их авторам.

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To dethrone the witchqueen of mytos kunn
Thwarted by the dark blade of the vampyre hunter
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The splendour of a thousand swords gleaming beneath the blazon of the hyperborean empire part iii
The splendour of a thousand swords gleaming beneath the blazon of the hyperborean empire
The scourge of the fourth celestial host
The ravening
The ghosts of angkor wat
The epsilon exordium
The empyreal lexicon
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The dark liege of chaos is unleashed at the ensorcelled shrine of azurakai
The chronicle of shadows
The awakening of the stars
Summoning the guardians of the astral gate
Starmaps of the ancient cosmographers
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Shadows neath the black pyramid
Return to the praesidium of ys
Prologue
Of carnage and a gathering of the wolves
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Journey to the isle of mists
Into the silent chambers of the sapphirean throne
In the ravenhaunted forests of darkenhold where shadows reign and the hues of sunlight never dance
In search of the lost cities of antarctica
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Enthroned in the temple of the serpent kings
Dreaming of atlantean spires
Draconis albionensis
Crystal shards
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Blood slakes the sand at the circus maximus
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Behold the armies of war descend screaming from the heavens
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At the altar of the dreaming gods epilogue
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And atlantis falls
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А знаете ли вы, что классическая музыка признана многими психологами, врачами и самими исполнителями в буквальном смысле чудодейственной. Сама по себе она не совершает чудеса, но она может самым благоприятным образом влиять на человека, растений и животных, на весь окружающий мир. И не важно, что в большинстве композиций классической музыки отсутствуют тексты песен, главное здесь - ее звучание, удачное сочетание нот и звуков.

Доказано, что классическая музыка благотворно влияет на нервную систему. Многие психологи прописывают своим пациентам слушать классическую музыку каждый день. Она не только успокаивает, но и вызывает положительные эмоции у человека. Классическую музыку даже с недавних пор стали использовать прогрессивных взглядов хирурги во время своих операций. Они прочувствовали на себе, что когда операция проводится под звуки классической музыки, все проходит как по маслу, а пациент в скорейшем времени реабилитируется и идет на поправку. Да, и во многих западных больницах в палатах больных играет классическая музыка. По словам врачей, она является усилителем медикаментозного лечения, так как своим звучанием настраивает на положительный лад людей, страдающих тем или иным заболеванием, внушает веру в выздоровление и в собственные силы справиться с болезнью. И все это не пустые слова - это результат проводимых неоднократно экспериментов.

К примеру, был произведен такой эксперимент - в две комнаты, одинаковые по размеру, температуре, влажности, степени освещения, поместили горшки с абсолютно одинаковыми цветами, и в каждой их них включили музыку - в одной классическую, а в другой - тяжелый рок. По истечении определенного времени эксперимент показал следующие результаты - в комнате с классической музыке цветы стали быстро прибавлять в росте, многие расцвели, все выглядели здоровыми, а в комнате с тяжелым роком цветы не только не выросли ни на сколько, а имели нездоровый вид, а многие даже зачахли. Чудодейственное влияние классической музыки на лицо. Однако этот эксперимент вовсе не говорит о том, что рок плох, и слушать его не следует, отнюдь - все люди разные, на кого-то и рок. И тексты песен роковых исполнителей действуют как чудесная сила.