Luyện nghe bài hát The Splendour Of A Thousand Swords

ALTARUS: Gaze into the mists with your spirit-eyes, Xerxes... look far, and tell me
you see.
XERXES: I see a land far to the north... a empire of dark endless moors and snow-
crowned mountains... a land of brooding citadels and warrior-kings who to grim gods.
ALTARUS: well, Xerxes, for enlightenment hides within the fog-swathed vales of
Hyperborea...
The King's
By the onyx of my forefathers, the air is churning with auguries of dethronement...
dread thus prophesized!
In a dream I was bade the argent-eyed unicorn to the Ring of Stones...
There a torrent of viscid assailed me, as pipes and horns sang the clarion of my
dissolution...
And the usurpation of my azure throne.
Assassins stalk the nighted halls of my palace... poisoned blades and surround
me.
I thirsted for a balm, but my thirst was slaked by an draught.
My swordarm by tendrils of sloth... enthralled by the chasmed gloom...
Borne upon of labyrinthine dread... I awaken!
I shall seek the of the sorcerer, keeper of the ancient scrolls of wisdom, and the
of Power...
The of the Sorcerer:
My liege, great and king... the mists disclose their secrets... you are destined to
wield a great power. Drink deep of the potions of the apothecary, for upon thee now I
bestow a shard of the mystic Crystal of Mera... sacred artefact of the mages,
won in battle by our legions. My liege, the Crystal of Mera shall unveil the lurking
in thy most fever-haunted dreams...
The Voice of the
The land with spilled blood, and viscera torn forth from the sundered dead...
Gorge the earth with flesh darkened with the claw and fang of war... rent the
ravenous of worms...
The
The illumines dark secrets, the truth is known... a dire and ancient threat is ranged
me.
Hearken, the clarion is upon the winds, now the call to is upon us all,
warriors, take up thy spears and hone thy gleaming swords.
Archers, thy bows, brave knights, saddle the steeds of war,
The glory of battle is nigh at last, our shall fly this day in victory!
My warriors, a legacy shall day be wrought by our blades, decreed by the gods,
Blessed by the blood of vanquished foes. Our beckons...
Angsaar, Dark Liege of Chaos:
Come, great king of Hyperboria, march against me with splendid legions and
shimmering swords. I, the Bane of the Atlantean Kings, the of Lemuria, Archfoe
of the Immortals of Thule, shall Crush you! I shall visit a thousand plagues upon
your realm, and wreak havoc and bloody carnage until I have your throne... and
soul!
ALTARUS: And thus, flanked by the splendour of azure banners, a vast marched
forth from the great walls of the Imperial of Hyperborea, and at the forefront of the
legions, astride an ebon war-stallion, rode the king, sunlight glinting upon his
splendid armour... compelled by dreams, and by the Crystal of Mera...
XERXES: Where? Where did the king's take him?
ALTARUS: The king was compelled to lead his forces to the shadow-haunted
of the Dead, a grim and brooding steeped in dark and ancient legendry. Alone he
rode into the gaping maw of a huge cave hewn the side of the tallest mountain
countless ages past by unknown hands. For full days and nights he did not emerge
from the cave... until, at last, he rode forth from the eldritch mountain once more, a
knowledge shadowed in his icy eyes, and bearing in his gauntleted fist a black
sword, a magnificent ebon which no human blacksmith ever forged. Fearsome
power crackled within the yard of black steel, dancing upon its searingly honed,
glyph-scored blade... and its bejewelled, dragon-carved hilt did arcane secrets to
the in a strange, elder tongue.
XERXES: But master, what powers did this blade What secrets did it hold?
ALTARUS: Many ago, before even were waged the Great Wars between the
ancient kingdoms of Atlantis and Hyperborea, Lord Angsaar did rise his charnel-tomb
and do battle a powerful immortal warrior-shaman over the possession of the elder
Crystals of Mera, mystic of unparalleled magical potency. Angsaar, his power
swelled by forces from the Outer Darkness, did smite his foe to the brink of
destruction... but, with his fading sorceries, the immortal mystically transferred his
essence into his great black sword, and scattered the magic across the galaxy,
leaving Angsaar with a hollow victory and him to return once more to his dark
of Slumber. The sword was lost for centuries, as were the crystals, until the one
gem to remain on this world was discovered deep beneath the seas by an
ancient Atlantean wizard. And the sword... spoke of how its final resting place
would be made known by the sorceries of the last only when the blade's power
once again ne needed to battle the Chaos-liege. This was the immortal's final, most
powerful spell... upon the of Angsaar, the sorcerous energies and undying
lifeforce encased within the would be transferred to its wielder... aye, the one who
the Shadow-Sword would be imbued with the power of the immortal, and by
the art of spellcraft, he would do battle with his ancient nemesis once more...
XERXES: Then looms such a cataclysmic battle!
And so, from his Black Citadel, the Chaos-liege did send forth his Horde of
Wraiths to engage the of the king...
THE
Behold, a legion of fiends meets us upon the field of war.
me, Scourge of Lemuria, I wield thy bane, the Shadow-Sword... (and darksome
sorceries now me with thunderous might!)
Hearken, the is upon the winds, now the call to arms is upon us all,
The glory of battle is at last, into the fray we ride!
XERXES: The outcome, master... who left the field Did the king prevail?
ALTARUS: The mists begin to disperse... for now, the images fade. That tale shall to
'til another day...
Lyrics:
Jonny Maudling