Luyện nghe bài hát The Splendour Of A Thousand Swords Gleaming

(Beneath The Blazon Of The Empire)

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

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

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

THE DREAM:
By the onyx of my forefathers,
the air is churning with of dethronement...
Impending dread prophesized!
In a I was bade ride
the unicorn to the Ring of Stones...
a torrent of viscid slime assailed me,
as pipes and horns the clarion of my dissolution...
And the usurpation of my azure throne.
Assassins stalk the nighted of my palace...
poisoned blades and chalices me.
I for a balm, but my thirst
was by an envenomed draught.
My shackled by tendrils of sloth...
by the chasmed gloom...
Borne upon of labyrinthine dread...
I awaken!
I seek the counsel of the sorcerer,
keeper of the ancient of wisdom,
and the of Power...

THE OF THE SORCERER:
My liege, great and king...
the mists their secrets...
you are destined to wield a great power.
Drink of the potions of the apothecary,
for upon thee now I bestow a
of the mystic of Mera...
sacred artefact of the At mages,
won in by our legions.
My liege, the Crystal of Mera unveil the truth
lurking hidden in thy most dreams...

THE VOICE OF THE
The land with spilled blood,
and torn forth from the sundered dead...
Gorge the earth with
darkened the claw and fang of war...
rent open the maws of worms...

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

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

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

And thus, by the splendour of azure banners,
a vast army marched from the great walls
of the Imperial of Hyperborea,
and at the of the mighty legions,
astride an war-stallion, rode the king,
glinting up on his splendid armour...
compelled by dreams, and guided by the of Mera...

Where? Where did the king's path take

???

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

???

Then there looms such a battle!

And so, his Black Citadel, the Chaos-liege did send
forth his Horde of Wraiths to the army of the king...

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

The outcome, master...
who the field victorious?
Did the prevail?

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