Bloodthorn Onwards into Battle The Bloodthorn Saga continued: Chapter 2 The Battle of Tower Bloodthorn Many years before the old man's tale of the tower bloodthorn was told to the people, in the second millennia after the fall of the elder race, the people of the northern lands rose against the tower's master. It was in the eight decade after the tower stood finished and the people had grown weary of the sorcerer who's dark and twisted magic had laid the land putrid and unfertile. For hundereds of leagues from the tower desolate wastes stretched as far as the eye could see. A dismal void only broken by the old forest that stretched south- and westward from the foot of mistveiled mountains, which now, as everything else, corrupted by foul magic hosted evil creatures, and i the blackened shadows beneath the trees horrors best unspoken dwelt and neurished on the and pain and agony of those wanderes who strayed into the woods. In one of the cities that now laid under the sorcerer's iron grip a young man had become the leader of the people. His beloved father, the king, had when the man was still a boy been killed by the tower's servants right before his eyes and this had made his hatred towards the sorcerer stronger than in any man. The young man was tall and fair to look at and all the people hearkened when he spoke. Now as a king himself he addressed his people and cursed the tower and it's inhabitants. It's presence had destroyed the land inw hich they had dwelt for centuries and his powerful words arose anger in the men and all agreed that the time of reckoning was at hand. The word of an upcoming war spread like a silent breeze across the land, even to the people beyond the Aeidolon Fangs, and in secrecy swords and mails were smithed and stored in hidden chambers. But the activities of the people did not pass the sorcerer unnoticed... In the dark caverns beneath the tower that stretched all into the very bowels of the earth, gruesome weapons and instruments of torture had been forget upon the very fires of hell for many years and an army of foul creatures awaited the command of their master. Finally the day of revenge came and in the twilight the gathered armies of men marched towards the tower. Colourful banners rose against the brightening morning skty and the hails of ten thousand men broke the silence as the king lead the way. Mounted on his mighty steed and clead in shining armor he forced his army through the waterland and when the sun stood at it's highest they reached the aberon fells, the last heights before mistveiled mountains and tower bloodthorn, where between laid den-gordiath, a dry and desolate plateau bearing host to no living creature or vegetation. As the kings army started the descent to den-gordiath the black, iron doors at the base of the tower opened and the hordes of darkness pored onto the plateau in an endless stream of evil, twisting horror. With a deafening shriek that pierced into the very bones of the mortal army they raised their weapons in malice and the two forces clashed together. The enemies were of countless numbers, but the king knew that when the armies of king faranthir of the land beyond aeidolon fangs soon came to their aid, the dark horde would be outmanned and victory would be imminent. Four days earlier King Faranthir and his army of seven thousand reached the pass in the Aeidolon Fangs and carefully started their journey down towards the 01d Forest. But when all his army where in the treacherous shadows of the surrounding cliffs they were waylaid by the army of the sorcerer's high-commander Morthion and were all mercilessly slain. So fast and lethal was the attack that not one single creature, nor man or beast, escaped from beneath morthions iron fist and thereby, on the day of the battle no word of the crushing defeat that had extinguished King Faranthir and all of his party never reached the gathered armies. The Battle raged on for hours, and over and over again the opposing armies charged each other only to retreat soon after with their enemies right on their heels. But as evening came and as the sun sank behind the Aberon Fells, leaving Den-Gordiath in pit black darkness, the King understood that king Faranthir's army would never come to their aid. And so, as the setting sun painted the sky and the walls of the Tower blood-red he withdrew the remnants of his army to the Aberon Fells where they took stand. The legions of Darkness poored over the hill, killing and maiming all in it's path and soon only the King and his guard stood alone against the invincible force of a thousand blackened souls. All of a sudden the Black Army stopped the attack and withdrew to the base of the hill where they lurked in the sbadows that now had all engulfed the plateu. Then a lightning split the sky in two and in the brief flash of light the King beheld the fallen that covered both the hill and the plains all up to the Tower that now seemed to glow as lit by the very fires of Hell. He then understood he had led ten thousand men into a certain death and that all hope was lost and his soul was condemned for eternity. Thunder roared across the landscape and black clouds gathered around the hill which soon was totally cut of from the rays of the setting sun. Such horrors was reveiled to the last men of the gathered armies that they all fell to the ground struck by a fear so intense that their hair turned white and the rose no more. Only the King kept on his feet and as the clouds withdrew he saw the Legions of Darkness part, clearing a path to the black doors of the Tower, into which he walked never to be seen again... To be continued... As One in Darkness In the blackened shadows beneath the mistveiled mountains Dwells an ancient evil of a long forgotten past Beneath the twisted trees it's hatred is growing stronger Restrained for an eternity, soon to be unleasehed Ravaged by a thousand storms Scarred by the anger of gods Tainted by a magic foul Mighty mistveiled mountains Reaching towards the sky like a thorn that's forged from darkness A symbol of oppression, a monument of fear In the tower bloodthorn the unspoken horror breeds Hidden by the veil of time untouched by the light Ravaged by a thousand storms Scarred by the anger of gods Tainted by a magic soul In the shadows of mistveiled mountains {{Come to me you pitiful mortal I sense your presence ...and despair Come to me you pitiful mortal I thrive upon - upon your fear Your soul for me, for me your flesh Your pain and anguish - my life Joined together, become as one As one in darkness}} {{Summoned by a chanting whisper}} {{Your soul for me, for me your flesh}} {{Lead astray from the path I follow Can it be my soul is fading Lost eternally Embraced by evil Surrounded by darkness}} {{Come to me you pitiful mortal I sense your presence ...and despair Come to me you pitiful mortal I thrive upon - upon your fear Your soul for me, for me your flesh Your pain and anguish - my life Joined together, become as one As one in darkness}} Death to a King As the dying sun sets behind the mistveiled mountains and the shadows grow deep amidst the Aeidolon Fangs The snowclad peaks almost hid by the cold evening fog gleams with hellish fire under the deep blue northern sky Hidden in the shadows thousand red eyes gleam in the fading light As the army starts it's decent the mountainsides come a live Crawling darkness bringing death through cold black shining metal Reaping lives of mortal men in a bloodcrazed madness As the hordes of evil tear apart the ranks of the mortal army A black steed brings it's master swiftly 'cross the battlefield Morthion attacks in spiteful malice his warhammer sheading blood A shape so twisted by magic and evil his mere presence bringing death The tortured screams of a thousand dying men haunt the midnight sun A black mass of destruction brought slaughter clad in fear The moon's grim face laughs in scorn upon the total death The shapeless twisted darkness spread pestilence with it's breath The Day of Reckoning They gathered in the morning twilight, ten thousand mortal men With banners held high to the sky, and eyes that gleamed with pride Their hail was carried through the air as the king adressed the crowd He spoke of the battle soon to come, and how the day would end in glory They all hearkened to his wisdom and in their souls a hope was lit And with his words still ringing in their ears they marched ...onwards into battle The morning silence was broken by ten thousand marching men Unknowing of what the day might bring their hearts all beat with strength The day of reckoning was finally here, the slavery would end with dreams of freedom they rose their heads and stared into the sun A cold pale void on the freezing sky, bearly breaking through the dust High above it's fading light lead the way ...onwards into battle Before them laid a cold grey desert, a landscape void of life The portal of the tower stared like the black eyes of the night The tower stood as a spike thrust straight in to the heart of heaven As struck down in to the mountain by giants of the past Sounds of Death Behind the shuttered door a voice from below the earth rumbled like the fiery pits of the underworld And with such ferocious strenght it spoke, the entire world trembled {{Hearken to me my legions ...walk out into the light and bring death and darkness with thee March onwards my legions ...destroy everything in thy path March onwards ...into battle ...March to war}} The night opened it's eyes and gazed upon the gathered armies of men Who greeted the coming horrors with a warrior's hail and swords prepared to kill Endless was the stream of black that float from the heart of darkness Greeting the men with a deafening shriek and weapons raised in malicious hate Onwards onto the battlefield to welcome death and embrace the sufferings of war With a thundering roar the armies clashed filling the day with the sound of death Still the voice thundered over the sounds of the battle, spreading it's poisonous words to the attacking legions, encouraging their maiming, praising their killing and honouring the slaughter they brought with them ...and pushed them further onwards: {{Hearken to me my legions ...walk further through the light and bring death and darkness with thee March onwards my legions ...bring pain and suffering on the way March onwards ...into victory March onwards ...into battle}} Beneath the Iron Sceptre Hooves of iron sounds like thunder from the blackest earth It's the day of the beast the time for darkness' rebirth Demons of war, bearer of plague and of pain Minions of chaos, make holy blood pour down like rain Flames of the earth consuming the living with sin The scent of burnt flesh poisoning the air and the wind Clouds of black ashes cover the sun and the sky When day turns to darkest night all are sentenced to die Enter a new realm of pain - So mezmerising to the beholder Slaughter of the human waste - Crushed beneath the iron sceptre With a word from the master, the high commander of hell Death to them all, like a plague, by a malevolent spell {{No sanctuary - no salvation to save you from doom}} Slow death and torture 'neath the bloodred face of the moon Enter a new realm of pain - So mezmerising to the beholder Slaughter of the human waste - Crushed beneath the iron sceptre The Brighter the Light, the Darker the Shadow In the far horizon a shapeless darkness filled the sky And slowly with a faint whispering, making the air putrid and unbreathable The nightshadow came crawling... The ground was covered by fallen men, their bodies mangled and torn Upon the Hillside the Final stand, and they knew they would come home no more A deafening thunder shook the earth and lightning split open the sky Rain fell like blood when the heavens turned black and the sun slowly withered and died Engulfing the fallen and standing alike, killing the living and waking the dead A darkness so black it would make night seem like day covered the hills and the plains The hearts of the mortals, all but the brightest, turned to stone black as the night But the brighter the light, the darker the shadow that consumes the source of all life Trapped by the evil he set out to conquer, his soul now cried out in vain His mind was twisted and lost in the kingdom where madness and suffering reign Deformed by the darkness the Nightshade brought Condemned to be killed but never to die Forever in torment, chained to the throne Where the Nightshwadow rules with death on it's side