The Words of the Forest-King on the Eve of the Nexus:
I am the immortal King of the Deep Woods,
Servitor of the Old Gods of the Forest
I hear the whispered words of the trees
Such ancient secrets they sing
Swaying serpents ring my oak-hewn throne,
Night and shadow are my hunting dogs
Ravenous, they howl to be unshackled,
That their maws may be glutted with the blood of my foes
Raven's claw tooth of the wolf
Ancient trees my brooding sentinels,
Gnarled branches clawing the nighted heavens
Spirits who dwell in shadow, unfurl thy darkling wings
Awaken, o' elder creatures of this sylvan realm,
Stalk once more this ebon-cloaked eve
I hear the whispered words of the trees,
Such ancient secrets they sing
I stand now at the anvil,
Adamantine hammer in my hand,
In thunder-song the steel I smite,
A clarion heard throughout this land
(Yawning wide beneath me) the jaws of the worm
(hearken, the spell is woven) the call of the worm
Raven's claw tooth of the wolf
Ablaze upon the Altar of Stone,
The Sigil of An-rayuth, the summoning!
Folk of the Mist, Dwellers in Shadow,
The thrice-blessed wand of the Wood-Gods is beckoning!
At the aeon-swathed Shrine of the Oak I kneel,
O' Oracle of the Great Forest, hear me this night
The Sylvan Oracle Speaks:
The gods of the earth and sky are watching, the circle is nigh on complete the nexus is
at hand But hearken for a new enemy approaches from the east an enemy who hide
their poisoned blades behind words of falsehood sweetened with the ichors of carrion, to
bind men's minds with fetters of deceit Speak now, o' Liege of the Deep Woods, Master
of Darkenhold, and the enemy shall hear you
The Forest-King:
Yes I behold now the face of the encroaching foe Hear my oath! You, clad in gleaming
robes of sparkling saffron, engorged with the mindless adoration of countless thralls who
bend the knee in flaccid obeisance 'neath thine vestments hides the rank stench of
leprous corruption! Bring not thine cursed icons into my ancient realm your words of
untruth shall not be heard here! My steel is honed and thirsting for your life-ichors aye,
and with my dying breath I'll spit defiance in your face!
Upon my great throne hewn of ancient oak I brood
My mantle, the leaves stirred by the whispering of the winds
The elder gods of the Deep Woods gaze grimly down upon me
My blood courses through the trees and the earth
And I watch in silence, ebon-eyed and raven-winged
From every bough of my kingdom
The Lament of the Trees:
Can you not remember? Have you forgotten the magic?
Sing to us your spells once more, and the ancient forest shall dance to your words
The Forest-King:
I stand now at the anvil,
Adamantine hammer in my hand,
In thunder-song the steel I smite,
A clarion heard throughout this land
Can you not see the coils of the worm all about you?
Can you not hear the writhing of the worm beneath you?
Can you not scent the breath of the worm riding the wind?
Can you not touch the skin of the worm in all that surrounds you?
Can you not taste the ichors of the worm upon your tongue?
Do dreams of the worm not haunt your slumber?
The Forest-King:
I hear the whispered words of the trees,
Such ancient secrets they sing
Lyrics: Byron
Music: Jonny and Chris Maudling