Luyện nghe bài hát Prelusion To Cythraul

"Any who alone, long only for mercy,
the mercy of truth is your traits of bloodlust and vein.
You have not, in all this time, to the lowland
of your ancestors. Your follow a hoof-beaten,
track down the side of a small, grass-covered knoll.
It is the round hillfort that your cavaliers call the dun.
The ways of the arcane are more difficult hillfort words can tell.
You are in complete isolation from this mortal exibition, as others be,
in due time. Each day at dawn, you to yourself and give your
complete utterance. For there are none surviving now,
to whom you would freely speak with, so your heart's desire."

"You, the oppressor, will need to to chain your mind,
to wait for the proper time to speak. Nevertheless, you shall be
the creed, under the sigil of the blade, then the number.
In an instant, the feeble and the lie North from here.
In an instant, a magician, shadowlord, and tyrant raised their
above head. You are separated from your kin, by far distance,
of Time and Tide. You will your comrades well,
as they replenish your memory with an immortal of everlastingness.
And though you only see shades of what once was,
you hear their songs and music forever."

"As lamplight escapes from the bleeding skies, winsome peat
smoke a chilled breeze that enfolds the imperious settlement,
gathering sounds, and lifts the brave into the night. You recall
the winter zephyr, as those the winds that passed eternity."

The Emperor continued to breathe and harshly. His lungs sounded
a rattle, as they were quickly filling with blood and various fluids,
Before his death and dissolution, the sluggishly uttered,
"I have granted intelligence the crown unto thee.
If you him well....."

Here and now, we take you within The Third Storm Of Cythraul.
It's just begun...

-Sir Proscriptor