Duchess Von Doom....the mysterious woodland survival witch, dropped by with a gaggle of goodies in her bag of human skin. Let's have a gander in the holy mountain, shall we?
First, the Duchesses unveiled the most mysterious and obscure of the bands she dredged from the depths of American scene. Hail, is a dark and weird black metal band from Portland Oregon whose cassette release, Blood Revenge of Death, is so murky and so obscure, that I had to enter its existence in the hallowed Encyclopedia Metallum my goddamn self!!!!!!! It contains 4 inky black and quite lengthy song things. This is the most necro thing I have ever heard. The necro cassette deck blasted forth putrid tones of analog rape. I really could make out much of what was going on, but this is how black metal is meant to be heard, maggots. I killed myself 7 times during this album, only to rise from the dead to worship at the altar of filth. It is well and good that this album is so obscure, as the widespread propagation of this album would surely release ravaging caco-daemons upon the earth. It is quite beyond review.
Here is a track from their first album, since this one does not exist in digital format.
Chronicles of the North Part 14.1 - Island of Domination
Dawn was breaking across the Jenkabala
forest. I awoke wondering where I was, as the last place I remember
being was inside the vast sourwood tree with Fester Blackheart,
Ophelia Skullbourne and Hell Wraith. My eyes, adjusting to the gray
dawn, could make out the forms of my companions and slowly I made my
way through the labyrinth of memory. We had convinced Parth-Amon,guardian of the Garm, to allow us to start that dread spellamplifier, and it had worked. I recall there being much commotion, it
seemed as though the walls would cave in around us and there was an
unwholesome
groaning emanating from above, then nothing. We were in a
crater huge enough to make me believe the tree had been knocked over,
but by what? We had been in the root chamber of the great plant, why
had we not been pulled out of the ground with it? I stood and began
to walk around. The Garm seemed untouched as well, it's gears still
grinding away. That's when I realize we were not at the bottom of the
crater, but in the middle. Beyond the machinery, there is an abyss
that separates the edge of the floor where I stand and the wall of
the crater left by the falling tree. Walking around the perimeter, I
can see that there is no passage to the other side, we are trapped
here as if on an island. Hell Wraith lies behind me and I wake him
first. He opens his eyes and says, "Suspended in the air?"
I nod my head, he continues. "I tried to stay conscious as long
as I could but the last thing I remember is hearing that sound then
Parth-Amon was drawing a spell with his hands. Everything was shaking
violently, at first it felt like we were moving but there was no
inertia, it had no feeling..." As Hell Wraith trails off, Fester
calls out from across the floating mesa, "Hey, you guys okay? If
anybody's hungry I have some torf!" Opening a briefcase he
carries with him, Fester produces several sheets of deep fried dough
with sweet and savory fillings, a specialty of his people. "They're
delicious!" Hollers Ophelia, waving a thumbs up. Troubled as I
am by our situation, torf is a delicacy I have not sampled since
before my stay in the realms of death. The four of us munch
portentously, staring over the side of our floating prison. "Hai!
You there!" At once we whirl around to see a figure perched on
the other side of the chasm. Clad in the sacred denim and leather of
the north, her black locks hang down around the patch covered
vestments. "Explain yourselves fools!" One by one, a group
of about twenty heavily armed magic users arrive to flank her on
either side. Fester leans over to me and whispers, "Shit, it's
Duchess Von Doom and the Narset Coven. We may be in trouble."
Well,as we peeled ourselves from the floor after that motherfucker, the Duchess decided to fuck with our souls with a diabolically quiet affair from a trio of witches from Olympia, WA. Vradiazei is an acoustic band, and their cassette release, Ancient Church, is a dark folk band whose only real claim to anything metal a collection of minor chords and galloping rhythms. Featuring banjo, cello, acoustic guitar and fiddle, this calls upon the spirits of Dark Americana, of bodies found in bogs and hollers, of New England witchcraft, and whispers in forgotten graveyards. This was truly an analog delight, but it did not win the night. No, indeed.
This is an even more obscure band with no YouTube presence, so you know they're cool.
Chronicles of the North Part 14.2 - Blood Von
From across the gaping divide Duchess
Von Doom can be seen making spellsigns with her hands. At the end of
this series of complicated sigils she pushes out with her hands then
draws them quickly toward herself again. Slowly, the little piece of
ground we occupy with the Garm begins drifting toward her. When we
bump up against the side and climb up to the forest floor, a grisly
sight awaits. The titanic sourwood tree has indeed fallen, and its
aspect dwarfs us. As far as the eye can see there is carnage from the
battle. The vanquished Wyverns lie crumpled beneath the holes they
have torn in the forest canopy after falling victim to Chanthoth's
Garm-enhanced spell. Sauron and human warriors are scattered about
and large scavenger birds pluck at the remains. For the first time
today, I reflect on the whereabouts of our party. I am interrupted in
my thoughts by the voice of the Duchess, "Now, what are you
doing in my realm? I know you Demon Scourge, death follows in your
path. You presence here means that blood will flow in Jenkabala and
Samur." The others have backed away and the dark sorceress and I
stand face to face in the middle of a circle of eyes. "I see you
have been granted the sacred armor of our people, but you have no
real idea of its power or just how dangerous it might be to you and
your friends. In your race to destroy and make war you have activated
the Garm, and we now have to stop it before Headron can locate its
position and use it to destroy us." She snaps her fingers and
several of the coven follow her on to the floating disc of soil that
holds the magical engine. The remainder of the dangerous looking
Narcen surround us as Duchess Von Doom and her crew set to work
dismantling the fence around the psychic 
strains to keep
the ground together as her brethren scurry up the hill. as the last
of them claw their way on to the lip of the massive crater, she
suddenly opens her eyes and the land beneath her feet crumbles away.
With a serene look in her eyes she slaps her hand on the Vradiazei patch on the denim battle jacket she
wears and as I observe her disappearing into the pit the Duchess Von
Doom materializes beside the coven of Narset. In a commanding tone
she pronounces her judgment, "You and your brother, Bloodmace
have been deceived by the leaders of a world you do not understand.
You and your party shall accompany us to Samur where Mistress
Crowbastard shall instruct you in the ancient ways of the Chevelargo and Hiuksetl. You have gathered about you the finest group of
metalheads Centon has ever known but you will be tested in Jenkabala
and the only way you will prevail is to learn the secrets hidden in
the past by the rulers of today. Gather your party, we depart in the
morning." At once, Duchess Von Doom and her party march into the
shadowy forest. In the dissipating morning fog, I catch a flicker of
light from behind a tree as they quickly pass. Frostor, puffing on a
cigar, gives me a wide grin.
Call to the sky boat! The metal militia has emerged from the battle victorious! But what of Bloodmace? Has he perished in the wood prison along with the secrets of the T'Chah Karnac? What of Baron Lotar, Lady Deathcrush and Hellmaster? Destiny sings to the champions of Centon, calling them to plunge deep in to the heart of snow-covered Samur, land of mystery, soul of Centon! Who will follow and who will be lost on the road to glory?
Until next week, necronecks,
Horns
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