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Mountain God (альбом Planeshift)
Behold the vast dismal hall beneath the black moutain and the great ebony throne in the middle of it. See the ancient god sitting upon this throne and holding in his hand a golden chalice full of human suffering and fear. Once god of joy he became god of pain... By the will of Young Gods. The sword on the altar before the throne... The sword of blue magical steel... The Great Sword of Power... My disciple, it must be yours! Tortured victims fill all the hall before the throne Losing the rest of mind and soul with the parting groan Eyes gushing blood, mouth torn with a scream and no one hears Before this face, bloodlustful and grim, life disappears Winged creatures under the ceiling - down they stare Harvest pain, fear and suffering bouncing there Mixed with gore it makes the drink for the ancient god Raising powers of Mountain King - dreadful lord Hagen, disciple of Darkness... Step forth and take what now is yours... The sword... And I will help you with my force I gather the power for flaming spell Around myself turning the world Gaining true fire from the heart of Muspell Floods of the time I distort Fire shines into their eyes, hear their cries Dusk dies, uncovers disguise, see their demise Trampling down mountain guards you break to the throne Crushing their swords, slashing apart with the strength grown Fire shines, blind are their eyes, your powers rise Dusk dies, uncovers disguise, now take your prize Before the throne you grab the sword - finally yours You pierce the chest of mountain lord with no remorse With their lord disincarnated the servants of the mountain disappear And the souls of the tortured finally obtain their long waited freedom Rejoicing in their afterlife Banished is the god - the body's dead and spirit roams But no return for blood that's shed and for painful groans Victims death turned into power that never dies Now it's waiting for its hour to arise

The Insurgent One(альбом Jabberworks)
One Thou, the Risen One, Insurgent Mage Who shook the power of gods All that you've done, eternal rage It justifies unholy thoughts You fight alone - Young Gods are foes Defending their Hallowed Land You feel so strong, Darkness is yours Feel there's no need to defend You do everything If they ask you for help you help everyone You pity their grief, you will not deny Whether beggar or king Liken mortal to god, there's no thing that can't be done But see their belief - they worship the Lie Raise your sword of black in raging flames You challenge gods in Hallowed Land No turning back, it's not a game The reign of lies must come to end Your armies vast devour the worlds And conquer lands on their way So strong and fast infinite hordes It's time for Young Gods to pay And the battle's begun At the gate of the Land that is Hallowed for all Their armies are great, much stronger than yours "Outnumbered you're gone So prepare for the end, now you'll suffer your fall Sealed is your fate - you're out of your force" "How dare you, worthless one encroach on holy things Rakoth now you'll be gone or slave to Seven Kings" "No way, I'll die but free or crush the tyrants down My armies cannot flee - they're led by Darkness Crown" The Hallowed is trembling, igneous gales Summoned from Chaos, incinerate the worlds Lost... The battle's lost, you're chained and bound Down to the Bottom of Worlds Ruined is your host, no fame you found Disincarnated by the Lords And all returned - no truth, just lies And Young Gods rule the worlds again But people learnt on your demise And your defeat was not in vain Free spirit lives on And no power for gods to erase it from mind The riot after riot, they know no more rest Now you're not alone Not the slaves but free men can no longer be blind The times won't be quiet - your spirit will last

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Идет голосование по литературной премии "Русская фантастика".
Награждение состоится на Интерпресскон-2002 в начале мая.
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©2001 Дизайн В.Савватеев, Дм.Ватолин
© 2001 Материалы и музыка Rakoth
© 2001 Верстка, подготовка: Сергей Черняев
© 2001 Русская фантастика.
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