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Vow of the Exiled

by Kull

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opxyh I'm fan a fan of Bal-Sagoth :)
Mens, a lot of metalheads are waiting for the continuation of the saga Bal-Sagotha ​​in your band!
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about

Third track taken from the upcoming Kull debut "Exile". Featuring members of symphonic black metal kings Bal-Sagoth and members of UK death metal band Dyscaphia.

lyrics

III.

Vow of the Exiled

The sacking of the Imperial Duchy of Lokstad was long in the planning; arduously and meticulously contrived with well-placed words whispered in trusting ear and advising hand ushering ink to parchment on writs of war. Yet to the unsuspecting denizens of the ancient and lauded principality, the assault came with no more warning than the creak of a hunter’s bow.

Darkened corridors and palisades the hunting grounds of black-swathed figures with stealthy tread and razor-sharp blade, which opened the throats of those whose heads would not be turned with a purseful of bloodstained coin. While beyond the city walls, hidden by forest and mist and whatever conjurings the Clerics - who so assiduously campaigned for the Duchy’s destruction - could muster, ballista and trebuchet made ready to send forth a volley of flaming missiles into the night.

Duke Godfrey, recent successor to the dukedom’s seat, fell quickly. His ill-fated charge in the firelight was both glorious and tragic to behold: Leading the assault, his flaxen steed was felled by an onslaught of arrow and spear and his throat opened before the hind legs of the noble beast had met the ground. Blood sprayed the pennants of his personal guard and banners fell as screams rose from deep within the castles walls.

And so it fell to Tanric, the youngest son of the noble house, to salvage what was left of his subjects. Under the guiding hand of the mercenary general Dragomir and clutching a sword drenched in gore, the young duke cut a bloody swathe through the assault and toward the ominous freedom of the hills beyond the lands he knew so well.

[The rallying cry of General Dragomir]:

Take heart and take steel
Our path is revealed!


[The fall of Lokstad as seen from the Lyrrian Hills]:

Incendiary cinders insurgent,
Bourne on an icy breeze;
Antecedent heralds of rapacious winds
Yet to come, a ravening
Scourge, (a surge,
A cleansing, bitter purge...)

Nestled in the bountiful bosom, the very heart of this verdant land,
Security’s illusion birthed the delusion that thus it would forever stand,
But for now the flames shall cleanse: Their caress
Both as welcome and as loathsome as a treacherous lover’s bequest.

[Tanric’s vow]:

I am the Dagger in the Darkness,
The Flame in the Black,
Purifier of imperspicuous horrors teeming to attack
I am the Sword bedecked in shadow,
The blood in stone encased
The axe-edge to behead the revenant-servant of the dead
The fury of the Wolf whose fur is forever stained red

[Reflections on a legacy lost and position inherited]:

The stronghold of my forebears - black towers piercing wintry skies,
Undisputed dominion brought to heel in deep crimson sanguiferous rivers where its broken stones now lie.

(The mantle never mine to bear now falls heavily
on shoulders as yet unaccustomed to its weight,
Of one lost to black reverie).

The conflagration casts unearthly aspect
Across such familiar territory,
Now a land tormented (In Sacrilegious subjugation),
Awaits the amassing of spears to be redeemed.

Shades of torment,
Thy wings enshroud the mind
Just as this mantle of leadership weighs the shoulders down.

What harbingers of fates unseen did tread
My lands and break bread
At my father’s table?
The sable gate of damnation stands now open,
To let slip plague-hound abomination
To (poison these once wealthy streets,
And) scavenge at the base of shining spires,
Dulled with the smoke of funeral pyres.

How they must have conspired!
Treacherous hearts holding noble ties,
Entwined in the ordure of black desires,
Obscuring Truth and upholding lies

[The Oracle speaks]:

(Stray not from the path and you shall foretell,
In shadowed ages what the fates refused to sell)

For bloodied blade - sacrificial knife,
Indebted soul, yet torment and strife
Shall watchwords be,
From sea to sea,
Your path shall lead,
To victory...

...elusive save for what dreadful cost?
Unknown and yet the iron boss,
Of a shield that stands against the dark,
You will be - a destiny revealed to me.
Such stories that are yet to be told,
Shall wreathe legends in minds of those who will behold!








© 2013 Tarkan J. Alp

credits

released January 7, 2017
© 2017 Kull

Music: Jonny & Chris Maudling
Lyrics: Tarkan J. Alp

Performed and recorded by Kull at Wayland's Forge Studios

" Mastered by Maor Appelbaum at Maor Appelbaum Mastering - California - U.S.A "

www.maorappelbaum.com

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about

Kull Sheffield, UK

Featuring members of Bal-Sagoth and Dyscpahia, Kull is a UK Symphonic Black Metal project building on the musical tradition already established in the Maudling's back-catalogue.

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