Infested With Worms - A Tale of Vecton, Goofy Death Metal and Rygar's Remembrance

We here at Metal Night feast on danger, and dine on death. Especially death. With all the trimmings and drippings. We are gourmands of gore. We also like sandwiches. Just sandwiches, with bread and meat and sauce. Special sauce. Blood sauce. With Scotch bonnet peppers. And your fucking liver. Death to all herbivores! Here are some goofy ass death metal albums.

Tales of Vecton Part 1

A star cries in the night and a temple falls to its knees. The sun is lost to another world and every written world speaks madness. In this chair I sit and recount to myself the events of the past evening (or years?) with confoundment and incredulity apparent. The clock tells that I’ve been repaired to my stead only hours since which I was hastened off, yet I have experienced ages of escapade, hazard and derring-do. I am shaken, inside, yet I hold my bearing with more certainty than I have ever felt. I have undergone a harrowing advance though alien worlds and a time that folded in and out of itself itself. Mountains climbed, warlords silenced, dimensions confounded. Now still, in this room, my mind spins like the bloodthirsty twirlblades of Sha’rrik Naarh. Were my adventures truly at an end? Did the dark heroes find respite from the ever-lapping waves of turmoil churned by the malefactors of the Time Desert? Is my return a sign that Demon Scourge and Bloodmace have finally let down their sunswords? Have those challengers of Jenkabala relayed me back to my home in light of their final championing against the Close Darkness? Or was my return a product of that bitter dimensional fissure we had thought repaired? Are the sands of the Time Desert still troubled?

Now it is my world that burns. I can see now, as I regain my bearings after the dimensional transfer. I see the Leigionairs, Horccarain, Broamsmer.

The clearer my mind grows, the more penalty pays my fear. Outside, the world cries fear from the strangeness of monster armies who clamber out of tears in the very fabric of timespace. No-one, though, grasps the true threat, the true horror that could be wrought.

Except me.

And I am really tired.

Engorged's Where Monsters Dwell started things off the right way with a blast of horror movie obsessed death grind, though more death than grind, with somewhat lengthy songs for the genre. The vocals are nice and gurgly, the guitars grindy, the pace frantic, the playing tight and satisfying, the riffs catchy and interesting. The songs are punctuated with some bad-tasteful samples, which compliment the insane horror movie lyrics perfectly. This was my pic for winner of the night. Demon Scourge and Vecton digress.

Into the Necro Lands Part 17.1 - Insane for Gore
Though this island that Rygar the Seeker had led us to on our escape from Bildorf's island could never compare width the beauty of the Jenkabala forest, I felt a peace out here among the tall palms that I had not experienced since we left our home so many weeks ago. Sunlight filtered down through the canopy above as strange, rainbow-winged birds flitted beneath the green dome. We had been walking for a bit when our guide motioned for us to follow him off the trail and into a small clearing that held some sitting rocks and a fire pit. “Here is the halfway point. Let us rest a moment and have some water.” Rygar takes a bottle from his belt and offers us some. “You knew the great Hellmaster and Lady Deathcrush,” looking back and fourth

between us, “You adventured with them you slew foes together...and you killed them.” His eyes burn into mine, and I knew it was true, for I had killed them and the rest of our party when I was possessed by Headron of Dantor. I quickly retort, “I was also there when we took our revenge in Dantor. You forget that I was also dead.” Rygar's face softens a bit as he replies, “I have not forgotten this, nor have I forgotten the other deeds you have done here on Centon. I know you both must be wondering why I went through all the trouble of coming to your aid and further, why I have brought you here to this island.” Bloodmace, between hearty swigs of smuggled necrobrandy, chimes in, “It had crossed my mind, seeker. A young whip such as yourself needs to have respect for your elders.” With a dramatic flourish, the bearded leader of Centon's weirdest army hikes his battle worn cape over one shoulder and begins his story.

Because Blood Freak were pretty amazing, too. An even goofier death grind band, their debut, Sleaze Merchants, is a fast romp through the graveyard. The songs are short, the tempos are blazing, the samples funny, the playing fast and lose. The band loses points for slight lack musical proficiency, since the riffs are rather generic, and the songs rather blend together. But it's a fun album if you are a ghoul and a death dealer and that's what we are all the fuck about. After a several death duels, we agreed to disagree.

Into the Necro Lands Part 17.2 - Werewolf Militia
“I met Hellmaster in the days after the great battle with the Wyvern in Samur. Already the Time Desert had begun to heal itself and many of us who wandered those phantom sands had begun to congregate on his estate. Hellmaster ordered that the castle grounds be opened to all who came and soon a small town grew up in the shadow of Castle Thrashstone. The master of the lands did not know me or my brothers. We had been sent to kill him many years previously by his tribe in northern Jenkabala. We were lost in the Time Desert for what seemed like a hundred lifetimes, many of our number perished. Those of us that survived did so only because of a tauriat we took from a corpse as we made our way into the churning desert. Many of the warriors who ride with me to this day are travelers of the rainbow sands who joined with us as we

searched for a way out of this ever shifting landscape. After a time, we simply accepted this nomadic lifestyle for our own. We were like ghosts of the wasteland, or perhaps monks would be more apropos, gathering our flock from the blasted dunes and inky caverns. Our mission was far from our minds when we wandered on to the first piece of solid ground any of us had seen in years. Castle Thrashstone was still standing, though it was nothing like we had heard in the legends. The massive bulk of the structure, damaged from a cataclysmic battle and neglected for years was still impressive, plants grew here, we drank water from a spring. My party set up camp when we heard that Hellmaster had invited all to stay, but there was a nervousness among those of us who still held our mission at the back of our minds. That night there was a heated discussion between the remaining members of the original party with some insisting we assassinate Hellmaster and return to Jenkabala while others wished to stay and abandon the quest we set out upon so many years ago. In the middle of our debates, Lady Deathcrush announced herself and strode into the room. Amid protests from the

rest of the party, I went with her to meet Hellmaster.” Rygar stared up into the foliage above us, lost in thought for a moment. From his belt, he takes a skin of wine. “You have tasted wine from the grapes Thrashstone, no? I think you will agree that we are, in our own humble way, bringing back the glory of Hellmaster's kingdom.” He takes a long swig and hands the drink to us. He is right, the wine is dark and mysterious, like a combination of paka dates and vorsar, but with overtones of hai bean like the temple wines at lake Chawa. When he sits down, I ask, “So what of this meeting with Hellmaster? What has become of our friend?” Rygar takes another long draught from the pouch and fastens it to his belt, “This is where it gets interesting"

Gorelust finished the night with some pretty standard death metal. We Are The Undead is a fine album, does all the death metal things, and was the most typically brutal. But it lacked that special panache that we .

were looking for. And there were no horror movie samples. So boo on Gorelust. The album cover is pretty great though

Words of the Elders

The hundred gods wait in the darkness with bated breath, all watching the actions of the mortals below. Bloodmace and Demon Scourge, traveling on the black wings of fate soar into the endless void of futurepast, unraveling the secrets of this timepiece world while the eyes of the firmament stare helplessly. Elmor, lift your eyes from the book of names and speak the word! Haslett, open your mouth, let the tongue of fire wrap around the cosmos! We beseech the pantheon in vain, for Necro Baby has gagged them, but the heroes of Centon will not relent! You are our quarry, ancient child of evil and we shall lead you to your perdition at the end of our swords! 

Until next time, molotov munchers,  

Horns