Luyện nghe bài hát The Splendour Of A Thousand Swords Gleaming

(Beneath The Blazon Of The Empire)

Gaze deep the mists with your spirit-eyes, Xerxes...
look far, and me what you see.

I see a far to the north...
a vast empire of dark endless moors and mountains...
a land of brooding and warrior-kings who hail to grim gods.

Look well, Xerxes, for hides
the fog-swathed vales of Hyperborea...

THE DREAM:
By the sceptre of my forefathers,
the air is with auguries of dethronement...
Impending thus prophesized!
In a dream I was bade
the argent-eyed unicorn to the of Stones...
There a torrent of viscid slime me,
as and horns sang the clarion of my dissolution...
And the of my ancient azure throne.
Assassins the nighted halls of my palace...
blades and chalices surround me.
I for a balm, but my thirst
was slaked by an draught.
My swordarm shackled by of sloth...
by the chasmed gloom...
Borne wings of labyrinthine dread...
I awaken!
I shall the counsel of the sorcerer,
keeper of the scrolls of wisdom,
and the of Power...

THE OF THE SORCERER:
My liege, great and king...
the mists disclose secrets...
you are destined to wield a dark power.
Drink of the potions of the apothecary,
for upon now I bestow a shard
of the mystic of Mera...
sacred of the At lantean mages,
won in by our legions.
My liege, the Crystal of Mera shall the truth
lurking in thy most fever-haunted dreams...

THE OF THE HARBINGER:
The land awash with blood,
and viscera torn forth from the dead...
Gorge the earth with
darkened the claw and fang of war...
rent the ravenous maws of worms...

THE
The Crystal illumines dark secrets, the is known...
a dire and ancient threat is ranged me.
Hearken, the clarion is the winds,
now the call to is upon us all,
warriors, take up thy spears and hone thy gleaming swords.
Archers, string thy bows, brave knights, saddle the of war,
The of battle is nigh at last,
our banner shall fly day in victory!

My warriors, a legacy this day be wrought
by our blades, by the gods,
by the blood of vanquished foes.
Our beckons...

LORD ANGSAAR, DARK LIEGE OF
Come, king of Hyperboria, march against me
your splendid legions and shimmering swords.
I, the of the Atlantean Kings, the Scourge of Lemuria,
of the Immortals of Ultima Thule, shall Crush you!
I shall visit a plagues upon your realm,
and wreak untold havoc and bloody
until I your throne... and your soul!

And thus, flanked by the of azure banners,
a vast army forth from the great walls
of the Imperial of Hyperborea,
and at the of the mighty legions,
astride an ebon war-stallion, the king,
sunlight glinting up on his armour...
compelled by dreams, and by the Crystal of Mera...

Where? Where did the king's path take

???

But master, what powers did this possess?
secrets did it hold?

???

Then there looms such a battle!

And so, from his Black Citadel, the did send
forth his of Wraiths to engage the army of the king...

THE
Behold, a legion of undead fiends meets us upon the of war.
Face me, of Lemuria, I wield thy bane, the Shadow-Sword...
(and darksome sorceries now empower me thunderous might!)
Hearken, the is upon the winds,
now the to arms is upon us all,
The glory of is nigh at last, into the fray we ride!

The outcome, master...
who left the victorious?
Did the king

The begin to disperse... for now, the images fade.
That shall have to wait 'til another day...