Luyện nghe bài hát In The Raven-haunted Forests Of Darkenhold

The of the Forest-King on the Eve of the Nexus:
I am the immortal King of the Woods,
Servitor of the Old of the Forest...
I hear the words of the trees...
Such secrets they sing...
Swaying serpents my oak-hewn throne,
Night and shadow are my dogs...
Ravenous, they to be unshackled,
That maws may be glutted with the blood of my foes.
Raven's claw... of the wolf
Ancient my brooding sentinels,
Gnarled branches the nighted heavens.
Spirits who in shadow, unfurl thy darkling wings...
Awaken, o' creatures of this sylvan realm,
Stalk once this ebon-cloaked eve.
I hear the words of the trees,
Such ancient they sing...
I now at the anvil,
Adamantine in my hand,
In the steel I smite,
A clarion heard throughout land.
(Yawning beneath me...) the jaws of the worm...
(hearken, the spell is woven...) the of the worm...
Raven's claw... tooth of the
Ablaze upon the of Stone,
The of An-rayuth, the summoning!
Folk of the Mist, in Shadow,
The thrice-blessed wand of the is beckoning!
At the Shrine of the Oak I kneel,
O' Oracle of the Great Forest, me this night...
The Sylvan Oracle
The of the earth and sky are watching, the circle is nigh on complete... the nexus is
at hand. But hearken... for a new enemy approaches from the east... an who hide
their poisoned blades behind of falsehood sweetened with the ichors of carrion, to
bind men's minds with fetters of deceit. Speak now, o' Liege of the Deep Woods,
of Darkenhold, and the shall hear you...
The
Yes... I now the face of the encroaching foe... Hear my oath! You, clad in gleaming
robes of sparkling saffron, engorged with the adoration of countless thralls who
the knee in flaccid obeisance... 'neath thine vestments hides the rank stench of
leprous corruption! Bring not thine cursed icons into my ancient realm... words of
shall not be heard here! My steel is honed and thirsting for your life-ichors... aye,
and with my dying breath I'll spit defiance in face!
Upon my great hewn of ancient oak I brood...
My mantle, the leaves stirred by the of the winds.
The elder gods of the Deep Woods gaze grimly down me...
My blood courses through the and the earth...
And I in silence, ebon-eyed and raven-winged.
From bough of my kingdom...
The Lament of the
Can you not Have you forgotten the magic?
Sing to us your spells once more, and the ancient shall dance to your words...
The
I now at the anvil,
Adamantine in my hand,
In thunder-song the I smite,
A clarion heard throughout land.
Can you not see the coils of the all about you?
Can you not hear the writhing of the worm beneath
Can you not the breath of the worm riding the wind?
Can you not touch the of the worm in all that surrounds you?
Can you not taste the ichors of the worm upon your
Do dreams of the worm not haunt slumber?
The
I hear the whispered of the trees,
Such ancient they sing...
Byron
Music: Jonny and Chris