Luyện nghe bài hát Summoning The Guardians Of The Astral Gate

It is written in the legends... that high amidst the moon-swathed peaks of the great
Mountain of Shadows, hides the aeon-weary threshold of the Astral Gate... the portal
our world, to beyond...
It is that one who holds the key and knows the empyreal incantation may stand within
the ancient ring of stones atop the mountain when the stars are aligned, and
unlock the mystic gate, summoning its sentinels, thereby attaining ultimate
enlightenment and unparalleled...
Part 1: THE
(The Reaches The Summit)
Keepers of the cosmic threshold, my ascent has fraught with terror, deathsteeped,
storm-hammered.
(These grim are strewn with the bones of the ill-fortuned dead.)
O' Guardians of the Astral Gate, the spheres at last in trine... I hold the Key!
(The trinity of shall touch the circle of stones once more...)
The incantation of Xuk'ul is to me, the Orb of Summoning earned with bloodshed!
(The crystalline key to the Outer Realms and the arcane rite to empower it are at
mine, at swordpoint from the citadel of the Black Templars. Enlightenment awaits!)
Many years ago, the mystic Orb of Summoning was seized by the Black
Templars,a band of sombre, plunder seeking knights the kingdoms to the east of the
Great Sea. wrested the sorcerous gem from the ancient shrine of Azaimedes, where
it had lain hidden for countless centuries, its power and purpose known only to the
shamans who tended to the elder place of worship. It is said that the tapestry of
slaughter woven that day was unparalleled in its ferocity, and the marble walls of the
ancient shrine were, and remain, stained vivid crimson with the spilled blood of the
keepers.
Ka-kur-ra, I thee,
Zul'tekh Vol-thoth.
Xuk'ul arise,
Kur'oc Gul-Kor, forth.
I hold the pulsing orb, astral spheres, empower the mystic key.
of elder stones entwined in prophecy, the Rite of Invocation enthralls thine power.
Replete drinking deep of darkness, black shapes dancing 'twixt the stones,
Lucent beams lancing from the gleaming, cepheid stars, a creeping mist ensorcells
my tongue...
A great stillness binds the moon-cloaked in glooming shackles...
(High above, the myriad stars gleam bright against the sky, three more resplendently
bedazzling than the others, their sidereal auras the stones...)
And the central stone of the ancient ebon ring begins to pulsate a darksome energy...
A thunderous ablaze with writhing celestially spawned power then rends the
night...
(A vast shimmering aperture, a vortex of heliacal fire... the pathway to beckons!)
The Astral is open...
The Guardians awakened...
XUK'UL: Impudent mortal! You dare summon us? If elucidation you seek, you shall
it!
Such searingly terrible majesty... my sanity is lashed like a vessel on a storm-
wracked sea. What price invocation? Shall the singing stars claim my very mind?
To countless worlds we travel, riding the endless black seas the stars... the ebon
oceans of infinity... flying through a thousand suns, then watching light fade, as if it
were but a flickering candleflame snuffed by the wind. As beings of pure we
become one with the vastness, transcending the ethereal walls of time, at once
this celestial eternity, and yet existing as no more a mote of dust within the vista of its
endlessness... beyond...
The threshold looms, (the star-way between stretches before me...)
The Gate To That Lies Beyond yawns wide...
forces gibber and pulsate in the Outer Darkness... Elder horrors dwell here,
things which were ancient and revelled in sublime galactic malevolence even Xuk'ul
was naught but a bloated cosmic maggot, and suckling at the breast of its
mother... They-Who-Lurk-And-Breed-In-Limbo... the squamous sovereigns of
the void!
Primal drags my essence screaming back from the threshold.
The ichor of tongues clings to me, tendrils probing, the ire of fiends!
The ravening black worms of madness are devouring the remnants of sanity as I
return to my slumbering steel-clad body... but as the dream-veil lifts, I feel my
transform, flesh becoming cold stone... enshrouded by a dark of obsidian. And the
laughter of the Guardians echoes, carries upon the winds of spectral eve. Such is the
price of enlightenment. And so, a new brooding sentinel of stone the others on the
nighted top...
silently in the ancient circle of truth, standing... waiting,
the stars.
Lyrics:
Jonny Maudling