Order of the Illuminati - Jenkabala, Demon Scourge, and Battlecross

Deep within the mysterious Time Desert stands the majestic Castle Thrashstone, home of Hellmaster and Lady Deathcrush. On this night we had gathered together Baron Lotar, Fester Blackheart, Hellmaster, Lady Deathcrush and Mandar, supreme commander of Lotar's forces and an adept of the old ones. Up to the game room in the tallest spire of this strange fortress we filed, and from a case made of human flesh, Lotar produces the enchanted cards. Hellmaster opens a richly carved panel next to the door and from everywhere the sound of thrash metal explodes. 

Chronicles of the North Part 6.1 - Among the Living

Bloodmace and I werekilled, banished to the outer dimensions along with our band of adventurers. We were brought back by Vorthon, the whip of fate and his metal warriors who fought the dreaded Gatemaster to free us from our prison. Our father, Bloodhammer then transported us to the forest of northern Jenkabala where we were hoisted into the treetops and introduced to Chanthoth, last of the T'chah Karnac. Inside the catacombs of his arboreal fortress we met Fester Blackheart and now we

are warming ourselves around the hearth, having just fought a bloody battle with the weird denizens of this organic fortress. Chanthoth speaks gravely to us, as it is the night of Bloodmace's departure for the Time Desert. “Many generations ago, before the age of Wyverns, before the time of the T'chah Karnac, there were two groups of people inhabiting the area we now know as Jenkabala. They were known as the Chevelargo and the Hiuksetl. The Hiuksetl were dwellers of the south who built the first settlements in the wilderness. The Chevelargo came down from the north and settled in the cold wastes near Samur. These two groups were forever making war with one another, but due to trade and travel they also frequently mixed. One day, Lord Headron of Dantor appeared and caused a great disturbance in the middle of our Island nation. The forest became a dessert and dimensional winds tormented the land. This was his first bid for power and to repulse his weird armies, two champions came forth. The first was, of course your father, Bloodhammer. The second was your mother, Thandra. Bloodhammer was of the northern Chevelargo and Thandra was Hiuksetl but they were bound together by these magic garments, a combination of the leather armor worn by your mother's tribe and the magical denim your father's people were so well known for. With these garments your power to transport yourself through space via dimensional folding will be greatly increased. Also, you will notice that each of the patches has a different power, for example, this King Diamond one can call several demons to aid you. The Motorhead patch will call your ancestors, and Mayhem will cut a swath of insanity and destruction in the path of your conjuring hand. Explore these powers, use

the Fates Warning patch to heal the dimensional rift. Go now Bloodmace, go and join Lady Steel in the Time Desert, you shall be victorious.” At that moment Fester cranks up the Repulsion and Bloodmace implodes, taking several cassette cases with him. Not one second later the dimensional membrane that permeates Centon rushes to close the void, causing the portal to belch fourth a geyser of glitter and dried meat shreds. Bloodmace was gone. 

 

The first selection was the house band of Castle Thrashstone, Battlecross. On their menu is math oriented hardcore with great lashings of melodic thrash tossed into the pot. This was the album that captured the night, and not only because of the home field advantage. There are a staggering amount of good riffs on this album. Special mention must go out to drummer Mike Kreger. His precise, machine-like drumming marshals the rest of the band on into victory.

Our group was engaged in our strange game of world domination when Sabbat's masterful Dreamweaver burst fourth from the Thrashstone sound system. Dense, wordy and dramatic, this is one of the ultimate expressions of what great thrash metal could be. Riff after soaring riff batters the listener, punctuated by the customary acoustic interludes. Singer Martin Walkyier has a great thrash bark and serves as the perfect ringleader for a quasi-prog concept album. So many great things happen on this album that it's hard to know where to begin. Some highlights are The Clerical Conspiracy, a great opening statement on par with Metallica's Blackened. The riff machine that is How the Mighty Have Fallen showcases the exceptionally warm, almost seventies-sounding guitars and Mythistory, the epic album closer.

Chronicles of the North Part 6.2 - Whom Are You With?

“Want some meat shreds?” Fester Blackheart leans over to me with a handful of glittery protein. Chanthoth is not amused. “Enough!” he intones. “Fester will lead you to the lair of Iron Dan and Frostor, there you must go on your own journey. If you are still yourself then you will survive, if not...” He trails off shaking his head. I had a feeling that this was coming. Of course they would want to test me, I had been taken over by the very being it was our mission to stop and now I must endure the test. "So, my hosts have become my captors." I say angrily, "Very well, I am ready for any trial" Fester rises and throws some supplies into a sack. Turning toward me, he speaks calmly, "It's not far, we'll be there before night falls." Chanthoth puts his hand on my shoulder. His eyes meet mine and he nods solemnly. Fester motions me to a dim corner of this cluttered chamber where an ancient symbol of his people is carved into the wall, and he begins to sing.

"I think of things that bring people down
Out of the clouds and back to the ground
Where the fish lie belly up in black water
Where the boy next door is fucking your dog
Your living inside a plastique world
Slick and modern pseudo world
Where what you want is what you get
Package after package of plastique shit"

The wall opens up, revealing a steep stairway that leads further into the trunk of the massive tree. Down we plunged into the humid darkness. My guide looks back at me, "We gotta go as fast as we can, those bugs that attacked us this morning are thick here. They'll try to snap at ya but just keep runnin'!" We begin traveling faster and as I steady myself against the spongy wall, I can feel them moving inside the tree. Stumbling down at top speed I manage to avoid getting snapped too many times, but the pain of their sharp pincers that drip with venom slows me as I run into Fester. Unbeknownst to me, he was conjuring an egress to the forest floor. Out into the bright sunlight we tumble, falling through the air. I land with a thud on the soft ground. For a moment, I can't breathe. Dragging myself over to the base of the tree, I check for damages. Fester is already up and beckons me to follow him into a pile of detritus and giant roots. 

Hellmaster's ears pricked up when the first strains of Massacra's 1990 opus Final Holocaust began to bludgeon away at us. Musically, these French maniacs sound close to old German thrash, like Destruction or Kreator. Plenty of fretboard acrobatics and shotgun-blast drum fills fly every witch way as the death mongering horde hurdles through the album's three quarters of an hour. I have always been a fan of French metal and this is one of the prime examples of how crushingly heavy (if not particularly inventive) the Gauls could be. A little late in the game by 1990 but a solid and brutal death/thrash hybrid that sticks to your ribs with its old school style.

By the time Jag Panzer had their chance at bat, our party was engrossed by the task at hand. I was getting ready to dominate our contest, and there was no time to explain the wonders of US power metal's comeback kid. Here is a band that released one brilliant album in '84 then disappeared. Ten years later they returned with the poorly-received Dissident Alliance LP, but the winds of fate were not finished with them yet. Three years later, reunited with original lead singer Harry Conklin, they released The Fourth Judgement. Albums like this just did not exist in 1997. Soaring vocals, old-fashioned harmony riffs, this album pulled no punches when it came to giving hungry power metal fans what they craved. There being so many strong contenders this night, Hellmaster was obliged to defend his position with a sharp blade. The game room of Castle Thrashstone became a bloody battleground of might and magic until at last we were obliged to let Hellmaster have what he wanted and laid the laurels of victory upon the head of Battlecross.

Words of the Elders

Bloodmace has left the cool, shady jungle for the barren wastes of the Time Desert. There he will join Lady Steel and Hydra the Sexwitch in a quest to repair the broken dimensional membrane that separates the temporal world from the spiritual dimensions. Now Demon Scourge must go, alone to the marsh of dreams and confront the enemy that lies hidden within himself. Times of woe and disillusionment! Times of wonder and discovery! O great old ones, dreaming in your basalt spires beneath the raging tides, hear our cry! Put on your armor and into the streets!

Until next week major ragers, 

Horns