**4. “The Hunt Begins”**
v4
@Gábor Kap
**4. “The Hunt Begins”**
v4
@Gábor Kap
Dalszöveg
[Verse I – Into the Snowdrift]
Through the veil of pine and frost,
Where no sun dares to tread,
Steel and oath lead me forward,
To find the ranks of the dead.
Blood on ice, the wind bears witness,
Whispers buried in the trees,
A garrison torn asunder —
By claw, by fang, by unseen deeds.
[Pre-Chorus]
Footprints fade in the driven snow,
But their screams still echo low…
[Chorus]
The Hunt begins beneath the Moon,
Barrows break and the old gods croon.
In bone-strewn halls and tombs defiled,
The dead awaken, fierce and wild.
To find the truth, I must descend,
Through blood and ash, to journey’s end.
[Verse II – The Barrows Open]
Kolbjorn’s stones are cracked and crying,
Ravens feast where soldiers fell.
In Greathall shadows, Skaal speak trembling —
Of curses woke by foreign spell.
Skaalara’s barrow groans with hunger,
Old Draugr stir, unliving thrall.
Bound by words lost to time,
And sealed behind ancestral walls.
[Bridge – Vision and Dream]
I dreamt of a wolf with crimson eyes,
Who howled my name in a tongue not mine.
It led me to a cairn of blackened stone,
Where truth and terror lie entwined.
[Chorus]
The Hunt begins — not mine alone,
For something stalks from ice and bone.
Old gods stir in frost-clad graves,
And call the bold to be the brave.
The drums of Hircine beat below,
The prey runs blind through drifts of snow.
[Chorus]
Sergeant Gaurd’s eyes were wild with fright,
He fled into the midnight white.
Torn journals speak of howls and rites,
Of gleaming fangs and moon-blessed nights.
The men are gone, the fort decays,
Command is madness in mortal guise.
The island stirs — a hunted land,
With secrets breathing in disguise.
[Chorus]
The Hunt begins, and now I see —
It’s not the lost who wait for me.
The blood upon the snow is mine,
Drawn by fate, and Daedric sign.
From northmost pines to barrow deep,
I chase the dark, it does not sleep.
Solstheim calls, with breath like ice —
The hunter pays the ancient price.
[Outro – Whispered]
“Watch the moons… watch the tide…
When the third moon waxes, the Hunt shall ride…”
Through the veil of pine and frost,
Where no sun dares to tread,
Steel and oath lead me forward,
To find the ranks of the dead.
Blood on ice, the wind bears witness,
Whispers buried in the trees,
A garrison torn asunder —
By claw, by fang, by unseen deeds.
[Pre-Chorus]
Footprints fade in the driven snow,
But their screams still echo low…
[Chorus]
The Hunt begins beneath the Moon,
Barrows break and the old gods croon.
In bone-strewn halls and tombs defiled,
The dead awaken, fierce and wild.
To find the truth, I must descend,
Through blood and ash, to journey’s end.
[Verse II – The Barrows Open]
Kolbjorn’s stones are cracked and crying,
Ravens feast where soldiers fell.
In Greathall shadows, Skaal speak trembling —
Of curses woke by foreign spell.
Skaalara’s barrow groans with hunger,
Old Draugr stir, unliving thrall.
Bound by words lost to time,
And sealed behind ancestral walls.
[Bridge – Vision and Dream]
I dreamt of a wolf with crimson eyes,
Who howled my name in a tongue not mine.
It led me to a cairn of blackened stone,
Where truth and terror lie entwined.
[Chorus]
The Hunt begins — not mine alone,
For something stalks from ice and bone.
Old gods stir in frost-clad graves,
And call the bold to be the brave.
The drums of Hircine beat below,
The prey runs blind through drifts of snow.
[Chorus]
Sergeant Gaurd’s eyes were wild with fright,
He fled into the midnight white.
Torn journals speak of howls and rites,
Of gleaming fangs and moon-blessed nights.
The men are gone, the fort decays,
Command is madness in mortal guise.
The island stirs — a hunted land,
With secrets breathing in disguise.
[Chorus]
The Hunt begins, and now I see —
It’s not the lost who wait for me.
The blood upon the snow is mine,
Drawn by fate, and Daedric sign.
From northmost pines to barrow deep,
I chase the dark, it does not sleep.
Solstheim calls, with breath like ice —
The hunter pays the ancient price.
[Outro – Whispered]
“Watch the moons… watch the tide…
When the third moon waxes, the Hunt shall ride…”
A zene stílusa
dark electronic metal with synth, rich but lower screamy male vocal, for [Chorus] Group vocals like church chore
